Anglistica & Americana

A Series of Reprints Selected by Bernhard Fabian, Edgar Mertner, KarlSchneider and Marvin Spevack

1968

GEORG OLMS VERLAGSBUCHHANDLUNG HILDESHEIM

Theophilus Cibber

The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland (1753)

Vol. I

1968

The present facsimile is reproduced from a copy in the possession ofthe Library of the University of Gottingen. Shelfmark: H. Lit. Biogr. I 8464. 

Although the title-page of Volume I announces four volumes, the workis continued in a fifth volume of the same date. Like Volumes II, III, and IV, it is by "Mr. CIBBER, and other Hands" and is "Printed for R. GRIFFITHS". 

M. S. 

THE

LIVES

OF THE

POETS

OF

GREAT BRITAIN and IRELAND, To the TIME of

DEAN _SWIFT_. 

Compiled from ample Materials scattered in a Variety of Books, andespecially from the MS. Notes of the late ingenious Mr. COXETER andothers, collected for this Design, By Mr. CIBBER. 

In FOUR VOLUMES. 

VOL. I. 

MDCCLIII. 

VOLUME I. 

Contains the

LIVES

O F

ChaucerLanglandGowerLydgateHardingSkeltonBarclayMoreSurry EarlWyatSackvilleChurchyardHeywoodFerrarsSidneyMarloeGreenSpenserHeywoodLillyOverburyMarstenShakespearSylvesterDanielHarringtonDeckerBeaumont and FletcherLodgeDaviesGoffGreville L. BrookeDayRaleighDonneDraytonCorbetFairfaxRandolphChapmanJohnsonCarewWottonMarkhamT. HeywoodCartwrightSandysFalklandSucklingHaustedDrummondStirling EarlHallCrashawRowleyNashFordMiddleton

THE LIVES OF THE POETS. 

 * * * *

GEOFFRY CHAUCER. 

It has been observed that men of eminence in all ages, anddistinguished for the same excellence, have generally had something intheir lives similar to each other. The place of Homer's nativity, hasnot been more variously conjectured, or his parents more differentlyassigned than our author's. Leland, who lived nearest to Chaucer'stime of all those who have wrote his life, was commissioned by kingHenry VIII, to search all the libraries, and religious houses inEngland, when those archives were preserved, before their destructionwas produced by the reformation, or Polydore Virgil had consumed suchcurious pieces as would have contradicted his framed and fabuloushistory. He for some reasons believed Oxford or Berkshire to havegiven birth to this great man, but has not informed us what thosereasons were that induced him to believe so, and at present thereappears no other, but that the seats of his family were in thosecountries. Pitts positively asserts, without producing any authorityto support it, that Woodstock was the place; which opinion Mr. Camdenseems to hint at, where he mentions that town; but it may be suspectedthat Pitts had no other ground for the assertion, than Chaucer'smentioning Woodstock park in his works, and having a house there. Butafter all these different pretensions, he himself, in the Testament ofLove, seems to point out the place of his nativity to be the city ofLondon, and tho' Mr. Camden mentions the claim of Woodstock, hedoes not give much credit to it; for speaking of Spencer (who wasuncontrovertedly born in London) he calls him fellow citizen toChaucer. 

The descent of Chaucer is as uncertain, and unfixed by the critics, as the place of his birth. Mr. Speight is of opinion that one RichardChaucer was his father, and that one Elizabeth Chaucer, a nun of St. Helen's, in the second year of Richard II. Might have been his sister, or of his kindred. But this conjecture, says Urry, [1] seems veryimprobable; for this Richard was a vintner, living at the corner ofKirton-lane, and at his death left his house, tavern, and stock to thechurch of St. Mary Aldermary, which in all probability he would nothave done if he had had any sons to possess his fortune; nor is itvery likely he could enjoy the family estates mentioned by Leland inOxfordshire, and at the same time follow such an occupation. Pittsasserts, that his father was a knight; but tho' there is no authorityto support this assertion, yet it is reasonable to suppose that hewas something superior to a common employ. We find one John Chaucerattending upon Edward III. And Queen Philippa, in their expedition toFlanders and Cologn, who had the King's protection to go over seain the twelfth year of his reign. It is highly probable thatthis gentleman was father to our Geoffry, and the supposition isstrengthened by Chaucer's first application, after leaving theuniversity and inns of law, being to the Court; nor is it unlikelythat the service of the father should recommend the son. 

It is universally agreed, that he was born in the second year of thereign of King Edward III. A. D. 1328. His first studies were in theuniversity of Cambridge, and when about eighteen years of age he wrotehis Court of Love, but of what college he was is uncertain, therebeing no account of him in the records of the University. FromCambridge he was removed to Oxford in order to compleat his studies, and after a considerable stay there, and a strict application to thepublic lectures of the university, he became (says Leland) "a readylogician, a smooth rhetorician, a pleasant poet, a great philosopher, an ingenious mathematician, and a holy divine. That he was a greatmaster in astronomy, is plain by his discourses of the Astrolabe. Thathe was versed in hermetic philosophy (which prevailed much at thattime), appears by his Tale of the Chanons Yeoman: His knowledge indivinity is evident from his Parson's Tale, and his philosophy fromthe Testament of Love. " Thus qualified to make a figure in the world, he left his learned retirement, and travelled into France, Holland, and other countries, where he spent some of his younger days. Upon hisreturn he entered himself in the Inner Temple, where he studied themunicipal laws of the land. But he had not long prosecuted that drystudy, till his superior abilities were taken notice of by somepersons of distinction, by whole patronage he then approached thesplendor of the court. The reign of Edward III. Was glorious andsuccessful, he was a discerning as well as a fortunate Monarch; he hada taste as well for erudition as for arms; he was an encourager of menof wit and parts, and permitted them to approach him, without reserve. At Edward's court nothing but gallantry and a round of pleasureprevailed, and how well qualified our poet was to shine in the softcircles, whoever has read his works, will be at no loss to determine;but besides the advantages of his wit and learning, he possessed thoseof person in a very considerable degree. He was then about the age ofthirty, of a fair beautiful complexion, his lips red and full, hissize of a just medium, and his air polished and graceful, so that heunited whatever could claim the approbation of the Great, and charmthe eyes of the Fair. He had abilities to record the valour of theone, and celebrate the beauty of the other, and being qualified by hisgenteel behaviour to entertain both, he became a finished courtier. The first dignity to which we find him preferred, was that of pageto the king, a place of so much honour and esteem at that time, thatRichard II. Leaves particular legacies to his pages, when few othersof his servants are taken notice of. In the forty-first year of EdwardIII. He received as a reward of his services, an annuity of twentymarks per ann. Payable out of the Exchequer, which in those days wasno inconsiderable pension; in a year after he was advanced to be ofhis Majesty's privy chamber, and a very few months to be his shieldbearer, a title, at that time, (tho' now extinct) of very greathonour, being always next the king's person, and generally upon signalvictories rewarded with military honours. Our poet being thus eminentby his places, contracted friendships, and procured the esteem ofpersons of the first quality. Queen Philippa, the Duke of Lancaster, and his Duchess Blanch, shewed particular honour to him, and ladyMargaret the king's daughter, and the countess of Pembroke gave himtheir warmest patronage as a poet. In his poems called the Romaunt, and the Rose, and Troilus and Creseide, he gave offence to some courtladies by the looseness of his description, which the lady Margaretresented, and obliged him to atone for it, by his Legend of goodWomen, a piece as chaste as the others were luxuriously amorous, and, under the name of the Daisy, he veils lady Margaret, whom of all hispatrons he most esteemed. 

Thus loved and honoured, his younger years were dedicated to pleasureand the court. By the recommendation of the Dutchess Blanch, hemarried one Philippa Rouet, sister to the guardianess of her grace'schildren, who was a native of Hainault: He was then about thirty yearsof age, and being fixed by marriage, the king began to employ him inmore public and advantageous posts. In the forty-sixth year of hismajesty's reign, Chaucer was sent to Venice in commission with others, to treat with the Doge and Senate of Genoa, about affairs of greatimportance to our state. The duke of Lancaster, whose favouritepassion was ambition, which demanded the assistance of learnedmen, engaged warmly in our poet's interest; besides, the duke wasremarkably fond of Lady Catherine Swynford, his wife's sister, whowas then guardianess to his children, and whom he afterwards made hiswife; thus was he doubly attached to Chaucer, and with the varyingfortune of the duke of Lancaster we find him rise or fall. Much aboutthis time, for his successful negociations at Genoa, the king grantedto him by letters patent, by the title of Armiger Noster, onepitcher of wine daily in the port of London, and soon after made himcomptroller of the customs, with this particular proviso, that heshould personally execute the office, and write the accounts relatingto it with his own hand. But as he was advanced to higher placesof trust, so he became more entangled in the affairs of state, theconsequence of which proved very prejudicial to him. The duke ofLancaster having been the chief instrument of raising him to dignity, expected the fruits of those favours in a ready compliance with himin all his designs. That prince was certainly one of the proudest andmost ambitious men of his time, nor could he patiently bear the nameof a subject even to his father; nothing but absolute power, and thetitle of king could satisfy him; upon the death of his elder brother, Edward the black prince, he fixed an eye upon the English crown, andseemed to stretch out an impatient hand to reach it. In this view hesought, by all means possible, to secure his interest against thedecease of the old king; and being afraid of the opposition of theclergy, who are always strenuous against an irregular succession, heembraced the opinions and espoused the interests of Wickliff, who nowappeared at Oxford, and being a man of very great abilities, and muchesteemed at court, drew over to his party great numbers, as wellfashionable as low people. In this confusion, the duke of Lancasterendeavoured all he could to shake the power of the clergy, and toprocure votaries amongst the leading popular men. Chaucer had no smallhand in promoting these proceedings, both by his public interest andwritings. Towards the close of Edward's reign, he was very active inthe intrigues of the court party, and so recommended himself to thePrince successor, that upon his ascending the throne, he confirmed tohim by the title of Dilectus Armiger Noster, the grant made by thelate king of twenty marks per annum, and at the same time confirmedthe other grant of the late King for a pitcher of wine to be deliveredhim daily in the port of London. In less than two years after this, wefind our poet so reduced in his cirumstances, (but by what means isunknown) that the King in order to screen him from his creditors, tookhim under his protection, and allowed him still to enjoy his formergrants. The duke of Lancaster, whose restless ambition ever excitedhim to disturb the state, engaged now with, all the interest ofwhich he was master to promote himself to the crown; the opinions ofWickliff gained ground, and so great a commotion now prevailed amongstthe clergy, that the king perceiving the state in danger, and beingwilling to support the clerical interest, suffered the archbishop ofCanterbury to summon Wickliff to appear before him, whose interestafter this arraignment very much decayed. [2] The king who was devotedto his pleasures, resigned himself, to some young courtiers who hatedthe duke of Lancaster, and caused a fryar to accuse him of an attemptto kill the king; but before he had an opportunity of making out thecharge against him, the fryar was murdered in a cruel and barbarousmanner by lord John Holland, to whose care he had been committed. Thislord John Holland, called lord Huntingdon, and duke of Exeter, washalf brother to the King, and had married Elizabeth, daughter ofthe duke of Lancaster. He was a great patron of Chaucer, and muchrespected by him. With the duke of Lancaster's interest Chaucer'salso sunk. His patron being unable to support him, he could no longerstruggle against opposite parties, or maintain his posts of honour. The duke passing over sea, his friends felt all the malice of anenraged court; which induced them to call in a number of the populaceto assist them, of which our poet was a zealous promoter. One Johnof Northampton, a late lord mayor of London was at the head of thesedisturbances; which did not long continue; for upon beheading one ofthe rioters, and Northampton's being taken into custody, the commotionsubsided. Strict search was made after Chaucer, who escaped intoHainault; afterwards he went to France, and finding the king resoluteto get him into his hands, he fled from thence to Zealand. Severalaccomplices in this affair were with him, whom he supported in theirexile, while the chief ringleaders, (except Northampton who wascondemned at Reading upon the evidence of his clerk) had restoredthemselves to court favour by acknowledging their crime, and nowforgot the integrity and resolution of Chaucer, who suffered exile tosecure their secrets; and so monstrously ungrateful were they, thatthey wished his death, and by keeping supplies of money from him, endeavoured to effect it;--While he expended his fortune in removingfrom place to place, and in supporting his fellow exiles, so far fromreceiving any assistance from England, his apartments were let, andthe money received for rent was never acccounted for to him; nor couldhe recover any from those who owed it him, they being of opinionit was impossible for him ever to return to his own country. Thegovernment still pursuing their resentment against him and hisfriends, they were obliged to leave Zealand, and Chaucer being unableto bear longer the calamities of poverty and exile, and finding nosecurity wherever he fled, chose rather to throw himself upon the lawsof his country, than perish abroad by hunger and oppression. He hadnot long returned till he was arrested by order of the king, andconfined in the tower of London. The court sometimes flatteredhim with the return of the royal favour if he would impeach hisaccomplices, and sometimes threatened him with immediate destruction;their threats and promises he along while disregarded, butrecollecting the ingratitude of his old friends, and the miseries hehad already suffered, he at last made a confession, and according tothe custom of trials at that time, offered to prove the truth of it bycombat. What the consequence of this discovery was to his accomplices, is uncertain, it no doubt exposed him to their resentment, andprocured him the name of a traytor; but the king, who regarded him asone beloved by his grandfather, was pleased to pardon him. Thus fallenfrom a heighth of greatness, our poet retired to bemoan the ficklenessof fortune, and then wrote his Testament of Love, in which are manypathetic exclamations concerning the vicissitude of human things, which he then bitterly experienced. But as he had formerly been thefavourite of fortune, when dignities were multiplied thick upon him, so his miseries now succeeded with an equal swiftness; he was not onlydiscarded by his majesty, unpensioned, and abandoned, but he lost thefavour of the duke of Lancaster, as the influence of his wife's sisterwith that prince was now much lessened. The duke being dejected withthe troubles in which he was involved, began to reflect on hisvicious course of life, and particularly his keeping that lady ashis concubine; which produced a resolution of putting her out of hishouse, and he made a vow to that purpose. Chaucer, thus reduced, andweary of the perpetual turmoils at court, retired to Woodstock, toenjoy a studious quiet; where he wrote his excellent treatise of theAstrolabe; but notwithstanding the severe treatment of the government, he still retained his loyalty, and strictly enjoined his son to prayfor the king. As the pious resolutions of some people are often theconsequence of a present evil, so at the return of prosperity they aresoon dissipated. This proved the case with the duke of Lancaster: hisparty again gathered strength, his interest began to rise; upon whichhe took again his mistress to his bosom, and not content with heapingfavours, honours, and titles upon her, he made her his wife, procuredan act of parliament to legitimate her children, which gave greatoffence to the duchess of Gloucester, the countess of Derby, andArundel, as she then was entitled to take place of them. With herinterest, Chaucer's also returned, and after a long and bitter storm, the sun began to shine upon him with an evening ray; for at thesixty-fifth year of his age, the king granted to him, by the title ofDelectus Armiger Noster, an annuity of twenty marks per annumduring his life, as a compensation for the former pension his needycircumstances obliged him to part with; but however sufficient thatmight be for present support, yet as he was encumbered with debts, he durst not appear publickly till his majesty again granted him hisroyal protection to screen him from the persecution of his creditors;he also restored to him his grant of a pitcher of wine daily, and apipe annually, to be delivered to him by his son Thomas, who that yearpossessed the office of chief butler to the king. 

Now that I have mentioned his son, it will not be improper, to takea view of our author's domestical affairs, at least as far as we areenabled, by materials that have descended to our times. 

Thomas his eldest son, was married to one of the greatest fortunes inEngland, Maud, daughter and heir of Sir John Burgheershe, knight ofthe garter, and Dr. Henry Burghurshe bishop of Lincoln, chancellorand treasurer of England. Mr. Speight says this lady was given him inmarriage by Edward III. In return of his services performed in hisembassies in France. His second son Lewis was born in 1381, for whenhis father wrote the treatise of the Astrolabe, he was ten yearsold; he was then a student in Merton college in Oxford, and pupil toNicholas Strade, but there is no further account of him. Thomas whonow enjoyed the office of chief butler to his majesty, had the sameplace confirmed to him for life, by letters patent to king Henry IV, and continued by Henry VI. In the 2d year of Henry IV, we find himSpeaker of the House of Commons, Sheriff of Oxfordshire and Berkshire, and Constable of Wallingford castle and Knaresborough castle duringlife. In the 6th year of the same prince, he was sent ambassador toFrance. In the 9th of the same reign the Commons presented him theirSpeaker; as they did likewise in the 11th year. Soon after this QueenJane, granted to him for his good service, the manor of Woodstock, Hannerborough and Wotten during life; and in the 13th year, he wasagain presented Speaker as he was in the 2d of Henry V, and muchabout that time he was sent by the king, to treat of a marriagewith Catherine daughter to the duke of Burgundy; he was sent againambassador to France, and passed thro' a great many public stations. Mr. Stebbing says that he was knighted, but we find no such titlegiven him in any record. He died at Ewelm, the chief place of hisresidence, in the year 1434. By his wife Maud he had one daughternamed Alice, who was thrice married, first to Sir John Philips, andafterwards to Thomas Montacute earl of Salisbury: her third husbandwas the famous William de la Pole, duke of Suffolk, who lost his headby the fury of the Yorkists, who dreaded his influence in the oppositeparty, tho' he stood proscribed by the parliament of Henry VI. Formisguiding that easy prince. Their son John had three sons, the secondof whom, Edmund, forfeited his life to the crown for treason againstHenry VII, by which means the estates which Chaucer's family possessedcame to the crown. But to return to our poet: By means of the dukeof Lancaster's marriage with his sister in law, he again grew to aconsiderable share of wealth; but being now about seventy years ofage, and fatigued with a tedious view of hurried greatness, he quittedthe stage of grandeur where he had acted so considerable a part withvaried success, and retired to Dunnigton castle[3] near Newbury, toreflect at leisure upon past transactions in the still retreats ofcontemplation. In this retirement did he spend his few remainingyears, universally loved and honoured; he was familiar with all men oflearning in his time, and contracted friendship with persons of thegreatest eminence as well in literature as politics; Gower, Occleve, Lidgate, Wickliffe were great admirers, and particular friendsof Chaucer; besides he was well acquainted with foreign poets, particularly Francis Petrarch the famous Italian poet, and refiner ofthe language. A Revolution in England soon after this happened, in which we find Chaucer but little concerned; he made no meancompliments to Henry IV, but Gower his cotemporary, though then veryold, flattered the reigning prince, and insulted the memory of hismurdered Sovereign. All acts of parliament and grants in the lastreign being annulled, Chaucer again repaired to Court to get freshgrants, but bending with age and weakness, tho' he was successful inhis request, the fatigue of attendance so overcame him, that deathprevented his enjoying his new possessions. He died the 25th ofOctober in the year 1400, in the second of Henry IV, in the 72d ofhis age, and bore the shock of death with the same fortitude andresignation with which he had undergone a variety of pressures, andvicissitudes of fortune. 

Dryden says, he was poet laureat to three kings, but Urry is ofopinion that Dryden must be mistaken, as among all his works not onecourt poem is to be found, and Selden observes, that he could find nopoet honoured with that title in England before the reign of EdwardIV, to whom one John Kaye dedicated the Siege of Rhodes in prose bythe title of his Humble Poet Laureat. 

I cannot better display the character of this great man than in thefollowing words of Urry. "As to his temper, says he, he had a mixtureof the gay, the modest and the grave. His reading was deep andextensive, his judgment sound and discerning; he was communicative ofhis knowledge, and ready to correct or pass over the faults of hiscotemporary writers. He knew how to judge of and excuse the slips ofweaker capacities, and pitied rather than exposed the ignorance ofthat age. In one word, he was a great scholar, a pleasant wit, acandid critic, a sociable companion, a stedfast friend, a greatphilosopher, a temperate oeconomist, and a pious christian. " As tohis genius as a poet, Dryden (than whom a higher authority cannot beproduced) speaking of Homer and Virgil, positively asserts, that ourauthor exceeded the latter, and stands in competition with the former. 

His language, how unintelligible soever it may seem, is almost asmodern as any of his cotemporaries, or of those who followed him atthe distance of 50 or 60 years, as Harding, Skelton and others, andin some places it is so smooth and beautiful, that Dryden would notattempt to alter it; I shall now give some account of his works inthe order in which they were written, so far as can be collected fromthem, and subjoin a specimen of his poetry, of which profession as hemay justly be called the Morning Star, so as we descend into latertimes; we may see the progress of poetry in England from its greatoriginal, Chaucer, to its full blaze, and perfect consummation inDryden. 

Mr. Philips supposes a greater part of his works to be lost, than whatwe have extant of him; of that number may be many a song, and many alecherous lay, which perhaps might have been written by him while hewas a student at Cambridge. 

The Court of Love, as has been before observed, was written while heresided at Cambridge in the 18th year of his age. 

The Craft Lovers was written in the year of our Lord, 1348, andprobably the Remedy of Love was written about that time, or not longafter. 

The Lamentation of Mary Magdalen taken from Origen, was written by himin his early years, and perhaps Boethius de Consolatione Philosophiæwas translated by him about the same time. 

The Romaunt of the Rose, is a translation from the French: this poemwas begun by William de Lerris, and continued by John de Meun, bothfamous French poets; it seems to have been translated about thetime of the rise of Wickliffe's Opinions, it consisting of violentinvectives against religious orders. 

The Complaint of the Black Knight, during John of Gaunt's courtshipwith Blanch is supposed to be written on account of the duke ofLancaster's marriage. 

The poem of Troilus and Creseide was written in the early part ofhis life, translated (as he says) from Lollius an historiographer inUrbane in Italy; he has added several things of his own, and borrowedfrom others what he thought proper for the embellishment of this work, and in this respect was much indebted to his friend Petrarch theItalian poet. 

The House of Fame; from this poem Mr. Pope acknowledges he took thehint of his Temple of Fame. 

The book of Blaunch the Duchess, commonly called the Dreme of Chaucer, was written upon the death of that lady. 

The Assembly of Fowls (or Parlement of Briddis, as he calls it in hisRetraction) was written before the death of queen Philippa. 

The Life of St. Cecilia seems to have been first a single poem, afterwards made one of his Canterbury Tales which is told by thesecond Nonne: and so perhaps was that of the Wife of Bath, which headvises John of Gaunt to read, and was afterwards inserted in hisCanterbury Tales. 

The Canterbury Tales were written about the year 1383. It is certainthe Tale of the Nonnes Priest was written after the Insurrection ofJack Straw and Wat Tyler. 

The Flower and the Leaf was written by him in the Prologue to theLegend of Gode Women. 

Chaucer's ABC, called la Priere de nostre Damê, was written for theuse of the duchess Blaunch. 

The book of the Lion is mentioned in his Retraction, and by Lidgate inthe prologue to the Fall of Princes, but is now lost, as is that. 

De Vulcani vene, i. E. Of the Brocke of Vulcan, which is likewisementioned by Lidgate. 

La belle Dame sans Mercy, was translated from the French of AlainChartier, secretary to Lewis XI, king of France. 

The Complaint of Mars and Venus was translated from the French of SirOtes de Grantson, a French poet. 

The Complaint of Annilida to false Arcite. 

The Legend of Gode Women (called the Assembly of Ladies, and by somethe Nineteen Ladies) was written to oblige the queen, at the requestof the countess of Pembroke. 

The treatise of the Conclusion of the Astrolabie was written in theyear 1391. 

Of the Cuckow and Nightingale, this seems by the description to havebeen written at Woodstock. 

The Ballade beginning In Feverre, &c. Was a compliment to the countessof Pembroke. 

Several other ballads are ascribed to him, some of which are justlysuspected not to have been his. The comedies imputed to him are noother than his Canterbury Tales, and the tragedies were those themonks tell in his Tales. 

The Testament of Love was written in his trouble the latter part ofhis life. 

The Song beginning Fly fro the Prese, &c. Was written in hisdeath-bed. 

Leland says, that by the content of the learned in his time, thePlowman's Tale was attributed to Chaucer, but was suppressed in theedition then extant, because the vices of the clergy were exposed init. Mr. Speight in his life of Chaucer, printed in 1602, mentions atale in William Thynne's first printed book of Chaucer's works moreodious to the clergy than the Plowman's Tale. One thing must not beomitted concerning the works of Chaucer. In the year 1526 the bishopof London prohibited a great number of books which he thought had atendency to destroy religion and virtue, as did also the king in 1529, but in so great esteem were his works then, and so highly valued bythe people of taste, that they were excepted out of the prohibition ofthat act. 

The PARDONERS PROLOGUE. 

 Lordings! quoth he, in chirch when I preche, I paine mee to have an have an hauteine speche; And ring it out, as round as doth a bell; For I can all by rote that I tell. My teme is always one, and ever was, (Radix omnium malorum est cupiditas) First, I pronounce fro whence I come, And then my bills, I shew all and some: Our liege--lords seal on my patent! That shew I first, my body to warrent; That no man be so bold, priest ne clerk, Me to disturb of Christ's holy werke; And after that I tell forth my tales, Of bulls, of popes, and of cardinales, Of patriarkes, and of bishops I shew; And in Latin I speake wordes a few, To faver with my predication, And for to stere men to devotion, Then shew I forth my long, christall stones, Ycrammed full of clouts and of bones; Relickes they been, as were they, echone! Then have I, in Latin a shoder-bone, Which that was of an holy Jewes shepe. Good men, fay, take of my words kepe! If this bone be washen in any well, If cow, or calfe, shepe, or oxe swell That any worm hath eaten, or hem strong, Take water of this well, and wash his tong. And it is hole a-non: And furthermore, Of pockes, and scabs, and every sore Shall shepe be hole, that of this well Drinketh a draught: Take keep of that I tell! If that the good man, that beasts oweth, Woll every day, ere the cocke croweth, Fasting drink of this well, a draught, (As thilk holy Jew our elders taught) His beasts and his store shall multiplie: And sirs, also it healeth jealousie, For, though a man be fall in jealous rage, Let make with this Water his potage, And never shall he more his wife mistrist, Thughe, in sooth, the defaut by her wist: All had she taken priests two or three! Here is a mittaine eke, that ye may see. He that has his hand well put in this mittaine; He shall have multiplying of his graine, When he hath sowen, be it wheat or otes; So that he offer good pens or grotes!

Those who would prefer the thoughts of this father of English poetry, in a modern dress, are referred to the elegant versions of him, by Dryden, Pope, and others, who have done ample justice to theirillustrious predecessor. 

[Footnote 1: Life of Chaucer prefixed to Ogle's edition of that authormodernized. ]

[Footnote 2: Some biographers of Chaucer say, that pope Gregory IX. Gave orders to the archbishop of Canterbury to summon him, and thatwhen a synod was convened at St. Paul's, a quarrel happened betweenthe bishop of London and the duke of Lancaster, concerning Wickliff'ssitting down in their presence. ]

[Footnote 3: Mr. Camden gives a particular description of thiscastle. ]

 * * * * *

LANGLAND. 

It has been disputed amongst the critics whether this poet precededor followed Chaucer. Mrs. Cooper, author of the Muses Library, is ofopinion that he preceded Chaucer, and observes that in more placesthan one that great poet seems to copy Langland; but I am ratherinclined to believe that he was cotemporary with him, which accountsfor her observation, and my conjecture is strengthened by theconsideration of his stile, which is equally unmusical and obsoletewith Chaucer's; and tho' Dryden has told us that Chaucer exceededthose who followed him at 50 or 60 years distance, in point ofsmoothness, yet with great submission to his judgment, I think thereis some alteration even in Skelton and Harding, which will appear tothe reader to the best advantage by a quotation. Of Langland's familywe have no account. Selden in his notes on Draiton's Poly Olbion, quotes him with honour; but he is entirely neglected by Philips andWinstanly, tho' he seems to have been a man of great genius: BesidesChaucer, few poets in that or the subsequent age had more realinspiration or poetical enthusiasm in their compositions. One cannotread the works of this author, or Chaucer, without lamenting theunhappiness of a fluctuating language, that buries in its ruins evengenius itself; for like edifices of sand, every breath of time defacesit, and if the form remain, the beauty is lost. The piece from which Ishall quote a few lines, is a work of great length and labour, ofthe allegoric kind; it is animated with a lively and luxuriousimagination; pointed with a variety of pungent satire; and dignifiedwith many excellent lessons of morality; but as to the conduct ofthe whole, it does not appear to be of a piece; every vision seems adistinct rhapsody, and does not carry on either one single action ora series of many; but we ought rather to wonder at its beauties thancavil at its defects; and if the poetical design is broken, themoral is entire, which, is uniformly the advancement of piety, andreformation of the Roman clergy. The piece before us is entitled theVision of Piers the Plowman, and I shall quote that particular partwhich seems to have furnished a hint to Milton in his Paradise Lost, b. 2. 1. 475. 

 Kinde Conscience tho' heard, and came out of the planets, And sent forth his sorrioues, fevers, and fluxes, Coughes, and cardicales, crampes and toothaches, Reums, and ragondes, and raynous scalles, Byles, and blothes, and burning agues, Freneses, and foul euyl, foragers of kinde! * * * * * There was harrow! and help! here cometh Kinde With death that's dreadful, to undone us all Age the hoore, he was in vaw-ward And bare the baner before death, by right he it claymed! Kinde came after, with many kene foxes, As pockes, and pestilences, and much purple shent; So Kinde, through corruptions killed full many: Death came driving after, and all to dust pashed Kyngs and bagaars, knights and popes. 

 * * * * *MILTON. 

 ----------Immediately a place Before his eyes appear'd, sad, noisom, dark, A lazar-house it seem'd; wherein were laid

 Numbers of all diseased: all maladies Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms Of heartsick agony, all fev'rous kinds, Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, Intestine stone and ulcer, cholic-pangs Demoniac phrenzy, moping melancholy And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence, Dropsies and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums; Dire was the tossing! deep the groans! despair Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch: And over them, triumphant death his dart Shook. P. L. B. Xi. 1. 477. 

 * * * * *

Sir JOHN GOWER

Flourished in the reign of Edward III, and Richard II. He wascotemporary with Chaucer and much esteemed and honoured by him, asappears by his submitting his Troilus and Cressida to his censure. Stow in his Survey of London seems to be of opinion that he was noknight, but only an esquire; however, it is certain he was descendedof a knightly family, at Sittenham in Yorkshire. He received hiseducation in London, and studied the law, but being possessed of agreat fortune, he dedicated himself more to pleasure and poetry thanthe bar; tho' he seems not to have made any proficiency in poetry, forhis works are rather cool translations, than originals, and are quitedestitute of poetical fire. Bale makes him Equitem Auratum & PoetamLaureatum, but Winstanly says that he was neither laureated norbederated, but only rosated, having a chaplet of four roses about hishead in his monumental stone erected in St. Mary Overy's, Southwark:He was held in great esteem by King Richard II, to whom he dedicates abook called Confessio Amantis. That he was a man of no honour appearsby his behaviour when the revolution under Henry IV happened inEngland. He was under the highest obligations to Richard II; he hadbeen preferred, patronized and honoured by him, yet no sooner did thatunhappy prince (who owed his misfortunes in a great measure to hisgenerosity and easiness of nature) fall a sacrifice to the policy ofHenry and the rage of rebellion, but he worshiped the Rising Sun, he joined his interest with the new king, and tho' he was thenstone-blind, and, as might naturally be imagined, too old to desireeither riches or power, yet he was capable of the grossest flatteryto the reigning prince, and like an ungrateful monster insulted thememory of his murdered sovereign and generous patron. He survivedChaucer two years; Winstanly says, that in his old age he was made ajudge, possibly in consequence of his adulation to Henry IV. His deathhappened in the year 1402, and as he is said to have been born someyears before Chaucer, so he must have been near fourscore years ofage: He was buried in St. Mary Overy's in Southwark, in the chapel ofSt. John, where he founded a chauntry, and left money for a mass to bedaily sung for him, as also an obit within the church to be kept onFriday after the feast of St. Gregory. He lies under a tomb of stone, with his image also of stone over him, the hair of his head auburn, long to his shoulders, but curling up, and a small forked beard;on his head a chaplet like a coronet of roses; an habit of purple, damasked down to his feet, and a collar of gold about his neck. Underhis feet the likeness of three books which he compiled; the firstnamed Speculum Meditantis, written in French; the second VoxClamantis, in latin; the third Confessio Amantis, in English; thislast piece was printed by one Thomas Berthalette, and by him dedicatedto King Henry VIII. His Vox clamantis, with his Chronica Tripartita, and other works, both in Latin and French, Stow says he had in hispossession, but his Speculum Meditantis he never saw. Besides on thewall where he lies, there were painted three virgins crowned, one ofwhich was named Charity, holding this device, En toy quies fitz de Dieu le pere, Sauve soit, qui gist fours cest pierre. 

The second writing MERCY, with this device;

 O bene Jesu fait ta mercy, A'lame, dont la corps gisticy. 

The third writing PITY, with this decree;

 Pour ta pitie Jesu regarde, Et met cest a me, en sauve garde. 

His arms were in a Field Argent, on a Chevron Azure, three Leopardsheads or, their tongues Gules, two Angels supporters, and the crest aTalbot. 

His EPITAPH. 

 Armigeri soltum nihil a modo fert sibi tutum, Reddidit immolutum morti generale tributum, Spiritus exutum se gaudeat esse solutum Est ubi virtutum regnum sine labe est statum. 

I shall take a quotation from a small piece of his called the EnviousMan and the Miser; by which it will appear, that he was not, asWinstanley says, a refiner of our language, but on the other hand, that poetry owes him few or no obligations. 

Of the Envious MAN and the MISER. 

 Of Jupiter thus I find ywrite, How, whilom, that he woulde wite, Upon the plaintes, which he herde Among the men, how that it farde, As of her wronge condition To do justificacion. And, for that cause, downe he sent An angel, which aboute went, That he the sooth knowe maie. 

Besides the works already mentioned our poet wrote the following:

De Compunctione Cordi, in one book. 

Chronicon Ricardi secundi. 

Ad Henricum Quartum, in one book. 

Ad eundem de Laude Pacis, in one book. 

De Rege Henrico, quarto, in one book. 

De Peste Vitiorum, in one book. 

Scrutinium Lucis, in one book. 

De Regimine Principum. 

De Conjugii Dignitate. 

De Amoris Varietate. 

 * * * * *

JOHN LYDGATE, Commonly called the monk of Bury, because a native of that place. Hewas another disciple and admirer of Chaucer, and it must be owned farexcelled his master, in the article of versification. After sometimespent in our English universities, he travelled thro' France andItaly, improving his time to the accomplishment of learning thelanguages and arts. Pitseus says, he was not only an elegant poet, andan eloquent rhetorician, but also an expert mathematician, an acutephilosopher, and no mean divine. His verses were so very smooth, andindeed to a modern ear they appear so, that it was said of him by hiscontemporaries, that his wit was framed and fashioned by the Musesthemselves. After his return from France and Italy, he became tutorto many noblemen's sons, and for his excellent endowments was muchesteemed and reverenced by them. He writ a poem called the Lifeand Death of Hector, from which I shall give a specimen of hisversification. 

 I am a monk by my profession In Bury, called John Lydgate by my name, And wear a habit of perfection; (Although my life agree not with the same) That meddle should with things spiritual, As I must needs confess unto you all. 

 But seeing that I did herein proceed At[1] his commands whom I could not refuse, I humbly do beseech all those that read, Or leisure have this story to peruse, If any fault therein they find to be, Or error that committed is by me, That they will of their gentleness take pain, The rather to correct and mend the same, Than rashly to condemn it with disdain, For well I wot it is not without blame, Because I know the verse therein is wrong As being some too short, and some too long. 

His prologue to the story of Thebes, a tale (as he says) he wasconstrained to tell, at the command of his host of the Tabard inSouthwark, whom he found in Canterbury with the rest of the pilgrimswho went to visit St. Thomas's shrine, is remarkably smooth forthe age in which he writ. This story was first written in Latin byChaucer, and translated by Lydgate into English verse, Pitseus sayshe writ, partly in prose and partly in verse, many exquisite learnedbooks, amongst which are eclogues, odes, and satires. He flourished inthe reign of Henry VI. And died in the sixtieth year of his age, ann. 1440. And was buried in his own convent at Bury, with this epitaph, Mortuus sæclo, superis superstes, Hic jacet Lydgate tumulatus urna: Qui suit quondam celebris Britannæ, Fama poesis. 

Which is thus rendered into English by Winstanly;

 Dead in this world, living above the sky, Intomb'd within this urn doth Lydgate lie; In former times fam'd for his poetry, All over England. 

[Footnote 1: K. Henry V. ]

 * * * * *

JOHN HARDING. 

John Harding, the famous English Chronologer, was born (says Bale) inthe Northern parts, and probably Yorkshire, being an Esquire of aneminent parentage. He was a man addicted both to arms and arts, in theformer of which he seems to have been the greatest proficient:His first military exploit was under Robert Umsreuil, governor ofRoxborough Castle, where he distinguished himself against the Scots, before which the King of Scotland was then encamped, and unfortunatelylost his life. He afterwards followed the standard of Edward IV. Towhose interest both in prosperity and distress he honourably adhered. But what endeared him most to the favour of that Prince, and wasindeed the masterpiece of his service, was his adventuring intoScotland, and by his courteous insinuating behaviour, so faringratiating himself into the favour of their leading men, that heprocured the privilege of looking into their records and originalletters, a copy of which he brought to England and presented to theKing. This successful achievement established him in his Prince'saffections, as he was solicitous to know how often the Kings ofScotland had taken oaths of fealty and subjected themselves to theEnglish Monarchs in order to secure their crown. These submissionsare warmly disputed by the Scotch historians, who in honour of theircountry contend that they were only yielded for Cumberland and someparcels of land possessed by them in England south of Tweed; andindeed when the warlike temper and invincible spirit of that nation isconsidered, it is more than probable, that the Scotch historians inthis particular contend only for truth. Our author wrote a chroniclein verse of all our English Kings from Brute to King Edward IV. Forwhich Dr. Fuller and Winstanly bestow great encomiums upon him; buthe seems to me to be totally destitute of poetry, both from thewretchedness of his lines, and the unhappiness of his subject, achronicle being of all others the driest, and the least susceptible ofpoetical ornament; but let the reader judge by the specimen subjoined. He died about the year 1461, being then very aged. From Gower toBarclay it must be observed, that Kings and Princes were constantlythe patrons of poets. 

On the magnificent houshold of King Richard II, Truly I herd Robert Irelese say, Clark of the Green Cloth, and that to the houshold, Came every day, forth most part alway, Ten thousand folk by his messes told; That followed the house, aye as they wold, And in the kitchen, three hundred scruitours, And in eche office many occupiours, And ladies faire, with their gentlewomen Chamberers also, and launderers, Three hundred of them were occupied then; There was great pride among the officers, And of all men far passing their compeers, Of rich arraye, and much more costous, Then was before, or sith, and more precious. 

 * * * * *

JOHN SKELTON

Was born of an ancient family in Cumberland, he received his educationat Oxford, and entering into holy orders was made rector of Dysso inNorfolk in the reign of Henry VIII. Tho' more probably he appearedfirst in that of Henry VII. And may be said to be the growth of thattime. That he was a learned man Erasmus has confirmed, who in hisletter to King Henry VIII. Stileth him, Britanicarum Literarum Lumen& Decus: Tho' his stile is rambling and loose, yet he was not withoutinvention, and his satire is strongly pointed. He lived near fourscoreyears after Chaucer, but seems to have made but little improvement inversification. He wrote some bitter satires against the clergy, andparticularly, his keen reflections on Cardinal Wolsey drew on himsuch severe prosecutions, that he was obliged to fly for sanctuary toWestminster, under the protection of Islip the Abbot, where he died inthe year 1529. It appears by his poem entitled, The Crown of Laurel, that his performances were numerous, and such as remain are chieflythese, Philip Sparrow, Speak Parrot, the Death of King Edward IV, aTreatise of the Scots, Ware the Hawk, the Tunning of Elianer Rumpkin. In these pieces there is a very rich vein of wit and humour, tho' muchdebased by the rust of the age he lived in. His satires are remarkablybroad, open and ill-bred; the verse cramped by a very short measure, and encumbered with such a profusion of rhimes, as makes the poetappear almost as ridiculous as those he endeavours to expose. In hismore serious pieces he is not guilty of this absurdity; and confineshimself to a regular stanza, according to the then reigning mode. His Bouge of Court is a poem of some merit: it abounds with wit andimagination, and shews him well versed in human nature, and theinsinuating manners of a court. The allegorical characters are finelydescribed, and well sustained; the fabric of the whole I believeentirely his own, and not improbably may have the honour of furnishinga hint even to the inimitable Spencer. How or by whose interest he wasmade Laureat, or whether it was a title he assumed to himself, cannotbe determined, neither is his principal patron any where named; but ifhis poem of the Crown Lawrel before mentioned has any covert meaning, he had the happiness of having the Ladies for his friends, and thecountess of Surry, the lady Elizabeth Howard, and many others unitedtheir services in his favour. When on his death-bed he was chargedwith having children by a mistress he kept, he protected that in hisconscience he kept her in the notion of a wife: And such was hiscowardice, that he chose rather to confess adultery than own marriage, a crime at that time more subjected to punishment than the other. 

The PROLOGUE to the BOUGE COURTS. 

 In autumne, whan the sunne in vyrgyne, By radyante hete, enryped hath our corne, When Luna, full of mucabylyte, As Emperes the dyademe hath worne Of our Pole artyke, smylynge half in scorne, At our foly, and our unstedfastnesse, The tyme when Mars to warre hym did dres

 I, callynge to mynde the great auctoryte Of poetes olde, whiche full craftely, Under as couerte termes as coulde be, Can touche a trouthe, and cloke subtylly With fresh Utterance; full sentcyously, Dyverse in style: some spared not vyce to wryte, Some of mortalitie nobly dyd endyte. 

His other works, as many as could be collected are chiefly these:

Meditations on St. Ann. 

--------on the Virgin of Kent. 

Sonnets on Dame Anne, Elyner Rummin, the famous alewife of England, often printed, the lastedition 1624. 

The Peregrinations of human Life. 

Solitary Sonnets. 

The Art of dying well. 

--------Speaking eloquently. 

Manners of the Court. 

Invective against William Lyle the Grammarian. 

Epitaphs on Kings, Princes, and Nobles, Collin Clout. 

Poetical Fancies and Satires. 

Verses on the Death of Arthur Prince of Wales. 

 * * * * *

ALEXANDER BARCLAY. 

He was an author of some eminence and merit, tho' there are few thingspreserved concerning him, and he has been neglected by almost all thebiographers of the poets. That excellent writer Mrs. Cooper seems tohave a pretty high opinion of his abilities; it is certain that hevery considerably refined the language, and his verses are muchsmoother than those of Harding, who wrote but a few years before him. He stiles himself Priest, and Chaplain in the College of St. Mary, Otory, in the county of Devon, and afterwards Monk of Ely. Hisprincipal work is a translation of a satirical piece, writtenoriginally in high Dutch, and entitled the Ship of Fools: It exposesthe characters, vices, and follies of all degrees of men, and tho'much inferior in its execution to the Canterbury Tales, has yetconsiderable merit, especially when it is considered how barren andunpolite the age was in which he flourished. In the prologue to thishe makes an apology for his youth, and it appears that the whole wasfinished Anno Dom. -1508, which was about the close of the reign ofHenry VII. In elegancy of manners he has the advantage of all hispredecessors, as is particularly remarkable in his address to SirGiles Alington, his patron. The poet was now grown old, and the knightdesiring him to abridge and improve Gower's Confessio Amantis, hedeclines it in the politest manner, on account of his age, profession, and infirmities; 'but tho' love is an improper subject, 'says he, Iam still an admirer of the sex, and shall 'introduce to the honour ofyour acquaintance, 'four of the finest ladies that nature ever framed, 'Prudence, Temperance, Justice, and Magnanimity;' the whole of theaddress is exceeding courtly, and from this I shall quote a few lines, which will both illustrate his politeness and versification

 To you these accorde; these unto you are due, Of you late proceeding as of their head fountayne; Your life as example in writing I ensue, For, more then my writing within it can contayne: Your manners performeth and doth there attayne: So touching these vertues, ye have in your living More than this my meter conteyneth in writing. My dities indited may counsell many one, But not you, your maners surmounteth my doctrine Wherefore, I regard you, and your maners all one, After whose living my processes, I combine: So other men instrusting, I must to you encline Conforming my process, as much as I am able, To your sad behaviour and maners commendable. 

He was author of the following pieces. 

Lives of several of the Saints. 

Salust's History of the Jugurthiam war translatcd into English. 

The Castle of Labour, translated from the French into English. 

Bale gives this author but an indifferent character as to his morals;he is said to have intrigued with women, notwithstanding his clericalprofession: It is certain he was a gay courtly man, and perhaps, tho'he espoused the Church in his profession, he held their celebacy andpretended chastity in contempt, and being a man of wit, indulgedhimself in those pleasures, which seem to be hereditary to the poets. 

 * * * * *

Sir THOMAS MORE. 

Tho' poetry is none of the excellencies in which this great man wasdistinguished, yet as he wrote some verses with tolerable spirit, andwas in almost every other respect one of the foremost geniusses ournation ever produced, I imagine a short account of his life here willnot be disagreable to the readers, especially as all Biographers ofthe Poets before me have taken notice of him, and ranked him amongstthe number of Bards. Sir Thomas More was born in Milk-street, London, A. D. 1480. He was son to Sir John More, Knight, and one of theJustices of the King's-Bench, a man held in the highest esteem atthat time for his knowledge in the law and his integrity in theadministration of justice. It was objected by the enemies of SirThomas, that his birth was obscure, and his family mean; but farotherwise was the real case. Judge More bore arms from his birth, having his coat of arms quartered, which proves his having come to hisinheritance by descent. His mother was likewise a woman of family, andof an extraordinary virtue. 

Doctor Clement relates from the authority of our author himself, avision which his mother had, the next night after her marriage. Shethought she saw in her sleep, as it were engraven in her wedding ring, the number and countenances of all the children she was to have, ofwhom the face of one was so dark and obscure, that she could not welldiscern it, and indeed she afterwards suffered an untimely delivery ofone of them: the face of the other she beheld shining most gloriously, by which the future fame of Sir Thomas was pre-signified. She alsobore two daughters. But tho' this story is told with warmth by hisgreat grandson, who writes his life, yet, as he was a Roman Catholic, and and disposed to a superstitious belief in miracles and visions, there is no great stress to be laid upon it. Lady More might perhapscommunicate this vision to her son, and he have embraced the beliefof it; but it seems to have too little authority, to deserve creditfrom posterity. 

Another miracle is related by Stapleton, which is said to havehappened in the infancy of More. His nurse one day crossing a river, and her horse stepping into a deep place, exposed both her and thechild to great danger. She being more anxious for the safety of thechild than her own, threw him over a hedge into a field adjoining, andescaping likewise from the imminent danger, when she came to take himup, she found him quite unhurt and smiling sweetly upon her. 

He was put to the free-school in London called St. Anthony's, underthe care of the famous Nicholas Holt, and when he had with greatrapidity acquired a knowledge of his grammar rules, he was placed byhis father's interest under the great Cardinal Merton, archbishop ofCanterbury, and Lord High Chancellor, whose gravity and learning, generosity and tenderness, allured all men to love and honour him. To him More dedicated his Utopia, which of all his works isunexceptionably the most masterly and finished. The Cardinal findinghimself too much incumbered with business, and hurried with stateaffairs to superintend his education, placed him in CanterburyCollege in Oxford, whereby his assiduous application to books, hisextraordinary temperance and vivacity of wit, he acquired the firstcharacter among the students, and then gave proofs of a genius thatwould one day make a great blaze in the world. When he was buteighteen years old such was the force of his understanding, he wrotemany epigrams which were highly esteemed by men of eminence, aswell abroad as at home. Beatus Rhenanus in his epistle to BilibalusPitchemerus, passes great encomiums upon them, as also Leodgarius àQuercu, public reader of humanity at Paris. One Brixius a German, whoenvied the reputation of this young epigramatist, wrote a book againstthese epigrams, under the title of Antimorus, which had no othereffect than drawing Erasmus into the field, who celebrated andhonoured More; whose high patronage was the greatest compliment themost ambitious writer could expect, so that the friendship of Erasmuswas cheaply purchased by the malevolence of a thousand such critics asBrixius. About the same time of life he translated for his exerciseone of Lucian's orations out of Greek into Latin, which he calls hisFirst Fruits of the Greek Tongue; and adds another oration of his ownto answer that of Lucian; for as he had defended him who had slain atyrant, he opposed against it another with such forcible arguments, that it seems not to be inferior to Lucian's, either in invention oreloquence: When he was about twenty years old, finding his appetitesand passions very predominant. He struggled with all the heroism of achristian against their influence, and inflicted severe whippings andaustere mortifications upon himself every friday and on high fastingdays, left his sensuality would grow too insolent, and at last subduehis reason. But notwithstanding all his efforts, finding his lustsready to endanger his soul, he wisely determined to marry, a remedymuch more natural than personal inflictions; and as a pattern of life, he proposed the example of a singular lay-man, John Picas Earl ofMirandula, who was a man famous for chastity, virtue, and learning. Hetranslated this nobleman's life, as also many of his letters, and histwelve receipts of good life, which are extant in the beginning of hisEnglish works. For this end he also wrote a treatise of the four lastthings, which he did not quite finish, being called to other studies. 

At his meals he was very abstemious, nor ever eat but of one dish, which was most commonly powdered beef, or some such saltmeat. In hisyouth he abstained wholly from wine; and as he was temperate in hisdiet, so was he heedless and negligent in his apparel. Being once toldby his secretary Mr. Harris, that his shoes were all torn, he bad himtell his man to buy him new ones, whose business it was to take careof his cloaths, whom for this cause he called his tutor. His firstwife's name was Jane Cole, descended of a genteel family, who bore himfour children, and upon her decease, which in not many years happened, he married a second time a widow, one Mrs. Alice Middleton, by whom hehad no children. This he says he did not to indulge his passions (forhe observes that it it harder to keep chastity in wedlock than in asingle life, ) but to take care of his children and houshold affairs. Upon what principle this observation is founded, I cannot wellconceive, and wish Sir Thomas had given his reasons why it is harderto be chaste in a married than single life. This wife was a worldlyminded woman, had a very indifferent person, was advanced in years, and possessed no very agreeable temper. Much about this time he becameobnoxious to Henry VII for opposing his exactions upon the people. Henry was a covetous mean prince, and entirely devoted to thecouncil of Emson and Dudley, who then were very justly reckoned thecaterpillars of the state. The King demanded a large subsidy to bestowon his eldest daughter, who was then about to be married to James IV. Of Scotland. Sir Thomas being one of the burgesses, so influenced thelower house by the force of his arguments, (who were cowardly enoughbefore not to oppose the King) that they refused the demands, uponwhich Mr. Tiler of the King's Privy-Chambers went presently tohis Majesty, and told him that More had disappointed all theirexpectations, which circumstance not a little enraged him againstMore. Upon this Henry was base enough to pick a quarrel without acause against Sir John More, his venerable father, and in revenge tothe son, clapt him in the Tower, keeping him there prisoner till hehad forced him to pay one hundred pounds of a fine, for no offence. King Henry soon after dying, his son who began his reign with somepopular acts, tho' afterwards he degenerated into a monstrous tyrant, caused Dudley and Emson to be impeached of high treason for giving badadvice to his father; and however illegal such an arraignment mightbe, yet they met the just fate of oppressors and traitors to theircountry. 

About the year 1516, he composed his famous book called the Utopia, and gained by it great reputation. Soon after it was published, itwas translated both into French and Italian, Dutch and English. Dr. Stapleton enumerates the opinions of a great many learned men in itsfavour. This work tho' not writ in verse, yet in regard of the fancyand invention employed in composing it, may well enough pass for anallegorical poem. It contains the idea of a compleat Commonwealth inan imaginary island, (pretended to be lately discovered in America)and that so well counterfeited, that many upon reading it, mistook itfor a real truth, in so much (says Winstanly) that some learned men, as Budeus, Johannes Plaudanus, out of a principle of fervent zeal, wished that some excellent divines might be sent hither to preachChrist's Gospel. 

Much about the same time he wrote the history of Richard III. Whichwas likewise held in esteem; these works were undertaken when he wasdischarged from the business of the state. 

Roper, in his life of our author, relates that upon an occasion inwhich King Henry VIII. And the Pope were parties in a cause tryed inthe Star Chamber, Sir Thomas most remarkably distinguished himself, and became so great a favourite with that discerning monarch, that hecould no longer forbear calling him into his service. 

A ship of the Pope's, by the violence of a storm was driven intoSouthampton, which the King claimed as a forfeiture; when the day ofhearing came on before the Lord High Chancellor, and other Judges, More argued so forcibly in favour of the Pope, that tho' the Judgeshad resolved to give it for the King, yet they altered their opinion, and confirmed the Pope's right. In a short time after this, he wascreated a Knight, and after the death of Mr. Weston, he was madeTreasurer of the Exchequer, and one of the Privy Council. He was nowSpeaker of the House of Commons, and thus exalted in dignity, theeyes of the nation were fixed upon him. Wolsey, who then governed therealm, found himself much grieved by the Burgesses, because all theirtransactions were so soon made public, and wanting a fresh subsidy, came to the house in person to complain of this usage. When theburgesses heard of his coming, it was long debated whether they shouldadmit him or no, and Sir Thomas strongly urged that he should beadmitted, for this reason, that if he shall find fault with thespreading of our secrets, (says he) we may lay the blame upon thosehis Grace brought with him. The proud Churchman having entered theHouse, made a long speech for granting the subsidy, and asked severalof the Members opinion concerning it; they were all so confounded asnot to be able to answer, and the House at last resolved that theirSpeaker should reply for them. Upon this Sir Thomas shewed that thecardinal's coming into the House was unprecedented, illegal, and adaring insult on the liberty of the burgesses, and that the subsidydemanded was unnecessary; upon which Wolsey suddenly departed ina rage, and ever after entertained suspicions of More, and becamejealous of his great abilities. Our author's fame was not confinedto England only; all the scholars and statesmen in every country inEurope had heard of, and corresponded with him, but of all strangershe had a peculiar esteem for Erasmus, who took a journey into Englandin order to converse with him, and enter more minutely into the meritof one whose learning he had so high an opinion of. They agreed tomeet first at my Lord Mayor's table, and as they were personallyunknown, to make the experiment whether they could discover oneanother by conversation. They met accordingly, and remained some hoursundiscovered; at last an argument was started in which both engagedwith great keenness, Erasmus designedly defended the unpopular side, but finding himself so strongly pressed, that he could hold it nolonger, he broke out in an extasy, aut tu es Morus, aut Nullus. Uponwhich More replied, aut tu es Erasmus, aut Diabolus, as at that timeErasmus was striving to defend very impious propositions, in order toput his antagonist's strength to the proof. 

When he lived in the city of London as a justice of peace, he usedto attend the sessions at Newgate. There was then upon the bench avenerable old judge, who was very severe against those who had theirpurses cut; (as the phrase then was) and told them that it was bytheir negligence that so many purse-cutters came before him. SirThomas, who was a great lover of a joke, contrived to have thisjudge's purse cut from him in the sessions house by a felon. When thefelon was arraigned, he told the court, that if he were permitted tospeak to one of the judges in private, he could clear his innocence tothem; they indulged him in his request, and he made choice of this oldjudge, and while he whispered something in his ear, he slily cut awayhis purse; the judge returned to the bench, and the felon made a signto Sir Thomas of his having accomplished the scheme. Sir Thomas movedthe court, that each of them should bestow some alms on a needy personwho then stood falsly accused, and was a real object of compassion. The motion was agreed to, and when the old man came to put his hand inhis purse, he was astonished to find it gone, and told the court, that he was sure he had it when he came there. What, says More ina pleasant manner, do you charge any of us with felony? the judgebeginning to be angry, our facetious author desired the felon, toreturn his purse, and advised the old man never to be so bitteragainst innocent men's negligence, when he himself could not keep hispurse safe in that open assembly. 

Although he lived a courtier, and was much concerned in business, yethe never neglected his family at home, but instructed his daughtersin all useful learning, and conversed familiarly with them; he wasremarkably fond of his eldest daughter Margaret, as she had a greatercapacity, and sprightlier genius than the rest. His children oftenused to translate out of Latin, into English, and out of English intoLatin, and Dr. Stapleton observes, that he hath seen an apology of SirThomas More's to the university of Oxford, in defence of learning, turned into Latin by one of his daughters, and translated again intoEnglish by another. Margaret, whose wit was superior to the rest, writa treatise on the four last things, which Sir Thomas declared wasfiner than his; she composed several Orations, especially one inanswer to Quintilian, defending a rich man, which he accused forhaving poisoned a poor man's bees with certain venomous flowers in hisgarden, so eloquent and forcible that it may justly rival Quintilianhimself. She also translated Eusebius out of Greek. 

Tho' Sir Thomas was thus involved in public affairs and domesticconcerns, yet he found leisure to write many books, either againstHeretics, or of a devotional cast; for at that time, what he reckonedHeresy began to diffuse itself over all Germany and Flanders. He builta chapel in his parish church at Chelsea, which he constantly attendedin the morning; so steady was he in his devotion. He hired a housealso for many aged people in the parish, which he turned into anhospital, and supported at his own expence. He at last rose to thedignity of Lord High Chancellor upon the fall of Wolsey, and while hesat as the Chief Judge of the nation in one court, his father, aged upwards of 90, sat as Chief Justice in the King's Bench; acircumstance which never before, nor ever since happened, of a fatherbeing a Judge, and his son a Chancellor at the same time. Every day, as the Chancellor went to the Bench, he kneeled before his father, andasked his blessing. The people soon found the difference between theintolerable pride of Wolsey, and the gentleness and humility of More;he permitted every one to approach him without reserve; he dispatchedbusiness with great assiduity, and so cleared the court of tedioussuits, that he more than once came to the Bench, and calling for acause, there was none to try. As no dignity could inspire him withpride, so no application to the most important affairs could diverthim from sallies of humour, and a pleasantry of behaviour. It oncehappened, that a beggar's little dog which she had lost, was presentedto lady More, of which me was very fond; but at last the beggargetting notice where the dog was, she came to complain to Sir Thomasas he was sitting in his hall, that his lady withheld her dog fromher; presently my lady was sent for, and the dog brought with her, which he taking in his hand, caused his wife to stand at the upper endof the hall, and the beggar at the other; he then bad each of themcall the dog, which when they did, the dog went presently to thebeggar, forsaking my lady. When he saw this, he bad my lady becontented for it was none of hers. My Lord Chancellor then gave thewoman a piece of gold, which would have bought ten such dogs, and bidher be careful of it for the future. 

A friend of his had spent much time in composing a book, and went toSir Thomas to have his opinion of it; he desired him to turn itinto rhime; which at the expence of many years labour he at lastaccomplished, and came again to have his opinion: Yea marry, says he, now it is somewhat; now it is rhime, but before it was neither rhimenor reason. 

But fortune, which had been long propitious to our author, began nowto change sides, and try him as well with affliction as prosperity, in both which characters, his behaviour, integrity and courage wereirreproachable. The amorous monarch King Henry VIII, at last obtainedfrom his Parliament and Council a divorce from his lawful wife, andbeing passionately fond of Anna Bullen, he married her, and declaredher Queen of England: This marriage Sir Thomas had always opposed, andheld it unlawful for his Sovereign to have another wife during hisfirst wife's life. The Queen who was of a petulant disposition, andelated with her new dignity could not withhold her resentment againsthim, but animated all her relations, and the parties inclined to theprotestant interest, to persecute him with rigour. Not long after thedivorce, the Council gave authority for the publication of a book, in which the reasons why this divorce was granted were laid down; ananswer was soon published, with which Sir Thomas More was charged asthe author, of which report however he sufficiently cleared himself ina letter to Mr. Cromwel, then secretary, and a great favourite withKing Henry. In the parliament held in the year 1534, there was anoath, framed, called the Oath of Supremacy, in which all Englishsubjects should renounce the pope's authority, and swear also to thesuccession of Queen Ann's children, and lady Mary illegitimate. Thisoath was given to all the clergy as well bishops as priests, but nolay-man except Sir Thomas More was desired to take it; he was summonedto appear at Lambeth before archbishop Cranmer, the Lord ChancellorAudley, Mr. Secretary Cromwel, and the abbot of Westminster, appointedcommissioners by the King to tender this oath. More absolutelyrefused to take it, from a principle of conscience: and after variousexpostulations he was ordered into the custody of the abbot ofWestminster; and soon after he was sent to the tower, and thelieutenant had strict charge to prevent his writing, or holdingconversation with any persons but those sent by the secretary. TheLord Chancellor, duke of Norfolk, and Mr. Cromwel paid him frequentvisits, and pressed: him to take the oath, which he still refused. About a year after his commitment to the tower, by the importunity ofQueen Ann, he was arraign'd at the King's Bench Bar, for obstinatelyrefusing, the oath of supremacy, and wilfully and obstinately opposingthe King's second marriage. He went to the court leaning on his staff, because he had been much weakened by his imprisonment; his judgeswere, Audley, Lord Chancellor; Fitz James, Chief Justice; Sir JohnBaldwin, Sir Richard Leister, Sir John Port, Sir John Spelman, SirWalter Luke, Sir Anthony Fitzherbert: The King's attorney openedagainst him with a very opprobrious libel; the chief evidence wereMr. Secretary Cromwell, to whom he had uttered some disrespectfulexpressions of the King's authority, the duke of Suffolk and earlof Wiltshire: He replied to the accusation with great composure andstrength of argument; and when one Mr. Rich swore against him, heboldly asserted that Rich was perjured, and wished he might never seeGod's Countenance in mercy, if what he asserted was not true; besidesthat, Rich added to perjury, the baseness of betraying privateconversation. But notwithstanding his defence, the jury, who werecomposed of creatures of the court, brought in their verdict, guilty;and he had sentence of death pronounced against him, which heheard without emotion. He then made a long speech addressed to theChancellor, and observed to Mr. Rich, that he was more sorry for hisperjury, than for the sentence that had just been pronounced againsthim: Rich had been sent by the secretary to take away all Sir Thomas'sbooks and papers, during which time some conversation passed, whichRich misrepresented in order to advance himself in the King's favour. He was ordered again to the Tower till the King's pleasure should beknown. When he landed at Tower Wharf, his favourite daughter Margaret, who had not seen him since his confinement, came there to take herlast adieu, and forgetting the bashfulness and delicacy of her sex, press'd thro' the multitude, threw her arms about her father's neckand often embraced him; they had but little conversation, and theirparting was so moving, that all the spectators dissolved in tears, andapplauded the affection and tenderness of the lady which could enableher to take her farewel under so many disadvantages. 

Some time after his condemnation Mr. Secretary Cromwel waited on SirThomas, and entreated him to accept his Majesty's pardon, upon thecondition of taking the oath, and expressed great tenderness towardshim. This visit and seeming friendship of Cromwel not a littleaffected him, he revolved in his mind the proposal which he made, and as his fate was approaching, perhaps his resolution staggereda little, but calling to mind his former vows, his conscience, hishonour, he recovered himself again, and stood firmly prepared for hisfall. Upon this occasion it was that he wrote the following verses, mentioned both by Mr. Roper and Mr. Hoddeson, which I shall hereinsert as a specimen of his poetry. 

 Ey flattering fortune, loke thou never so fayre, Or never so pleasantly begin to smile, As tho' thou would'st my ruine all repayre, During my life thou shalt not me begile, Trust shall I God to entre in a while His haven of heaven sure and uniforme, Ever after thy calme loke I for a storme. 

On the 6th of July, 1534, in the 54th year of his age, the sentence ofcondemnation was executed upon him on Tower Hill, by severing his headfrom his body. As he was carried to the scaffold, some low peoplehired by his enemies cruelly insulted him, to whom he gave cool andeffectual answers. Being now under the scaffold, he looked at it withgreat calmness, and observing it too slenderly built, he said merrilyto Mr. Lieutenant, "I pray you, Sir, see me safe up, and for mycoming down let me shift for myself. " When he mounted on thescaffold, he threw his eyes round the multitude, desired them to prayfor him, and to bear him witness that he died for the holy catholicchurch, a faithful servant both to God and the King. His gaiety andpropension to jesting did not forsake him in his last moments; when helaid his head upon the block, he bad the executioner stay till hehad removed aside his beard, saying, "that that had never committedtreason. " When the executioner asked his forgiveness, he kissed himand said, "thou wilt do me this day a greater benefit than any mortalman can be able to give me; pluck up thy spirit man, and be not afraidto do thy office, my neck is very short, take heed therefore that thoustrike not awry for saving thy honesty. "

Thus by an honest but mistaken zeal fell Sir Thomas More; a man of witand parts superior to all his contemporaries of integrity unshaken;of a generous and noble disposition; of a courage intrepid; agreat scholar and a devout christian. Wood says that he was but anindifferent divine, and that he was very ignorant of antiquity and thelearning of the fathers, but he allows him to be a man of a pleasantand fruitful imagination, and a statesman beyond any that succeededhim. 

His works besides those we have already mentioned are chiefly these, A Merry Jest, How a Serjeant will learn to play a Friar, written inverse. 

Verses on the hanging of a Painted Cloth in his Father's House. 

Lamentations on Elizabeth Queen of Henry VII, 1503. 

Verses on the Book of Fortune. 

Dialogue concerning Heresies. 

Supplication of Souls, writ in answer to a book called theSupplication of Beggars. 

A Confutation of Tindal's Answer to More's Dialogues, printed 1533. 

The Debellation of Salem and Bizance, 1533. 

In answer to another book of Tindal's. 

Treatise on the Passion of Chrift. 

----Godly Meditation. 

------Devout Prayer. 

Letters while in the Tower, all printed 1557. 

Progymnasmata. 

Responsio ad Convitia Martini Lutheri, 1523. 

Quod pro Fide Mors fugienda non est, written in the Tower 1534. 

Precationes ex Psalmis. 

 * * * * *

HENRY HOWARD, Earl of SURRY

Was son of Thomas, duke of Norfolk, and Elizabeth, daughter of Edward, duke of Buckingham. The father of our author held the highest placesunder King Henry VIII, and had so faithfully and bravely served him, that the nobility grew jealous of his influence, and by their unitedefforts produced his ruin. After many excellent services in France, hewas constituted Lord Treasurer, and made General of the King's wholearmy design'd to march against the Scots: At the battle of Flodden, in which the Scots were routed and their Sovereign slain, the earl ofSurry remarkably distinguished himself; he commanded under his father, and as soon as the jealousy of the Peers had fastened upon the one, they took care that the other should not escape. He was the firstnobleman (says Camden) that illustrated his high birth with the beautyof learning; he was acknowledged by all, to be the gallantest man, the politest lover, and the most compleat gentleman of his time. Hereceived his education at Windsor with a natural son of Henry VIII, and became first eminent for his devotion to the beautiful Geraldine, Maid of Honour to Queen Catherine; the first inspired him with poetry, and that poetry has conferred immortality on her: So transported washe with his passion, that he made a tour to the most elegant courtsin Europe, to maintain her peerless beauty against all opposers, and every where made good his challenge with honour. In his wayto Florence, he touched at the emperor's court, where he becameacquainted with the learned Cornelius Agrippa, so famous for magic, who shewed him the image of his Geraldine in a glass, sick, weeping onher bed, and melting into devotion for the absence of her lord; uponsight of this he wrote the following passionate sonnet, which forthe smoothness of the verse, the tenderness of expression, and theheartfelt sentiments might do honour to the politest, easiest, mostpassionate poet in our own times. 

 All soul, no earthly flesh, why dost thou fade? All gold; no earthly dross, why look'st thou pale? Sickness how darest thou one so fair invade? Too base infirmity to work her bale. Heaven be distempered since she grieved pines, Never be dry, these my sad plaintive lines. 

 Pearch thou my spirit on her silver breasts, And with their pains redoubled musick beatings, Let them toss thee to world where all toil rests, Where bliss is subject to no fears defeatings, Her praise I tune, whose tongue doth tune the spheres, And gets new muses in her hearers ears. 

 Stars fall to fetch fresh light from the rich eyes, Her bright brow drives the fun to clouds beneath. Her hair reflex with red strakes paints the skyes, Sweet morn and evening dew flows from her breath: Phoebe rules tides, she my tears tides forth draws. In her sick bed love fits, and maketh laws. 

 Her dainty lips tinsel her silk-soft sheets, Her rose-crown'd cheeks eclipse my dazled sight. O glass with too much joy, my thoughts thou greets, And yet thou shewest me day but by twilight. I'll kiss thee for the kindness I have felt. Her lips one kiss would into nectar melt. 

From the emperor's court he went to the city of Florence, the prideand glory of Italy, in which city his beauteous Geraldine was born, and he had no rest till he found out the house of her nativity, and being shewn the room where his charmer first drew air, he wastransported with extasy of joy, his tongue overflowed with herpraises, and Winstanly says he eclipsed the sun and moon withcomparisons of his Geraldine, and wrote another sonnet in praiseof the chamber that was honoured (as he says) with her radiantconception; this sonnet is equally amorous and spirited with thatalready inserted. In the duke of Florence's court he published a proudchallenge against all comers, whether Christians, Turks, Canibals, Jews, or Saracens, in defence of his mistress's beauty; this challengewas the better received there, as she whom he defended was born inthat city: The duke of Florence however sent for him, and enquired ofhis fortune, and the intent of his coming to his court; of which whenthe earl informed him, he granted to all countries whatever, as wellenemies and outlaws, as friends and allies, free access into hisdominions unmolested till the trial were ended. 

In the course of his combats for his mistress, his valour and skillin arms so engaged the Duke to his interest, that he offered him thehighest preferments if he would remain at his court. This proposalhe rejected, as he intended to proceed thro' all the chief cities inItaly; but his design was frustrated by letters sent by King HenryVIII. Which commanded his speedy return into England. 

In the year 1544, upon the expedition to Boulogne in France, he wasmade field marshal of the English army, and after taking that town, being then knight of the garter, he was in the beginning of September1545 constituted the King's lieutenant, and captain-general of all hisarmy within the town and county of Boulogne[1]. During his commandthere in 1546, hearing that a convoy of provisions of the enemy wascoming to the fort at Oultreaw, he resolved to intercept it; butthe Rhinegrave, with four thousand Lanskinets, together with aconsiderable number of French under the de Bieg, making an obstinatedefence, the English were routed, Sir Edward Poynings with diversother gentlemen killed, and the Earl himself obliged to fly, tho' itappears, by a letter to the King dated January 8, 1548, that thisadvantage cost the enemy a great number of men. But the King wasso highly displeased with this ill success, that from that time hecontracted a prejudice against the Earl, and soon after removed himfrom his command, and appointed the Earl of Hertford to succeed him. Upon which Sir William Page wrote to the Earl of Surry to advise himto procure some eminent post under the Earl of Hertford, that he mightnot be unprovided in the town and field. The Earl being desirous inthe mean time to regain his former favour with the King, skirmishedwith the French and routed them, but soon after writing over to theKing's council that as the enemy had cast much larger cannon than hadbeen yet seen, with which they imagined they should soon demolishBoulogne, it deserved consideration whether the lower town shouldstand, as not being defensible; the council ordered him to return toEngland in order to represent his sentiments more fully upon thosepoints, and the Earl of Hertford was immediately sent over in hisroom. This exasperating the Earl of Surry, occasioned him to let fallsome expressions which favoured of revenge and dislike to the King, and a hatred of his Councellors, and was probably one cause of hisruin, which soon after ensued. The Duke of Norfolk, who discovered thegrowing power of the Seymours, and the influence they were likelyto bear in the next reign, was for making an alliance with them; hetherefore pressed his son to marry the Earl of Hertford's daughter, and the Dutchess of Richmond, his own daughter, to marry Sir ThomasSeymour; but neither of these matches were effected, and the Seymoursand Howards then became open enemies. The Seymours failed not toinspire the King with an aversion to the Norfolk-family, whose powerthey dreaded, and represented the ambitious views of the Earl ofSurry; but to return to him as a poet. 

That celebrated antiquary, John Leland, speaking of Sir Thomas Wyatthe Elder, calls the Earl, 'The conscript enrolled heir of the saidSir Thomas, in his learning and other excellent qualities. ' The authorof a treatise, entitled, 'The Art of English Poetry, alledges, thatSir Thomas Wyat the Elder, and Henry Earl of Surry were the twochieftains, who having travelled into Italy, and there tasted thesweet and stately measures and stile of the Italian poetry, greatlypolished our rude and homely manner of vulgar poetry, from what it hadbeen before, and therefore may be justly called, The Reformers of ourEnglish Poetry and Stile. ' Our noble author added to learning, wisdom, fortitude, munificence, and affability. Yet all these excellencies ofcharacter, could not prevent his falling a sacrifice to the jealousyof the Peers, or as some say to the resentment of the King for hisattempting to wed the Princess Mary; and by these means to raisehimself to the Crown. History is silent as to the reasons why thegallantries he performed for Geraldine did not issue in a marriage. Perhaps the reputation he acquired by arms, might have enflamedhis soul with a love of glory; and this conjecture seems the moreprobable, as we find his ambition prompting him to make love tothe Princess from no other views but those of dominion. He marriedFrances, daughter to John Earl of Oxford, after whose death headdressed Princess Mary, and his first marriage, perhaps, might beowing to a desire of strengthening his interest, and advancing hispower in the realm. The adding some part of the royal arms to his own, was also made a pretence against him, but in this he was justified bythe heralds, as he proved that a power of doing so was granted by somepreceeding Monarchs to his forefathers. Upon the strength of thesesuspicions and surmises, he and his father were committed to the Towerof London, the one by water, the other by land, so that they knewnot of each other's apprehension. The fifteenth day of January nextfollowing he was arraigned at Guildhall, where he was found guilty bytwelve common jurymen, and received judgment. About nine days beforethe death of the King he lost his head on Tower-Hill; and had not thatMonarch's decease so soon ensued, the fate of his father was likewisedetermined to have been the same with his sons. 

It is said, when a courtier asked King Henry why he was so zealous intaking off Surry; "I observed him, says he, an enterprizing youth; hisspirit was too great to brook subjection, and 'tho' I can manage him, yet no successor of mine will ever be able to do so; for which reasonI have dispatched him in my own time. "

He was first interred in the chapel of the Tower, and afterwards inthe reign of King James, his remains were removed to Farmingam inSuffolk, by his second son Henry Earl of Northampton, with thisepitaph. 

Henrico Howardo, Thomæ secundi Ducis Norfolciæ filio primogenito. Thomæ tertii Patri, Comiti Surriæ, & Georgiani Ordinis Equiti Aurato, immature Anno Salutis 1546 abrepto. Et Franciscæ Uxoris ejus, filiæJohannis Comitis Oxoniæ. Henricus Howardus Comes Northamptoniæ filiussecundo genitus, hoc supremum pietatis in parentes monumentum posuit, A. D. 1614. 

Upon the accession of Queen Mary the attainder was taken off hisfather, which circumstance has furnished some people with anopportunity to say, that the princess was fond of, and would havemarried, the Earl of Surry. I shall transcribe the act of repeal as Ifind it in Collins's Peerage of England, which has something singularenough in it. 

'That there was no special matter in the Act of Attainder, but onlygeneral words of treason and conspiracy: and that out of their carefor the preservation of the King and the Prince they passed it, andthis Act of Repeal further sets forth, that the only thing of which hestood charged, was for bearing of arms, which he and his ancestors hadborn within and without the kingdom in the King's presence, and sightof his progenitors, as they might lawfully bear and give, as by goodand substantial matter of record it did appear. It also added, thatthe King died after the date of the commission; likewise that he onlyempowered them to give his consent; but did not give it himself; andthat it did not appear by any record that they gave it. Moreover, thatthe King did not sign the commission with his own hand, his stampbeing only set to it, and that not to the upper part, but to thenether part of it, contrary to the King's custom. '

Besides the amorous and other poetical pieces of this noble author, hetranslated Virgil's Æneid, and rendered (says Wood) the first, second, and third book almost word for word:--All the Biographers of thepoets have been lavish, and very justly, in his praise; he merits thehighest encomiums as the refiner of our language, and challenges thegratitude and esteem of every man of literature, for the generousassistance he afforded it in its infancy, and his ready and liberalpatronage to all men of merit in his time. 

[Footnote 1: Dugdale's Baronage. ]

 * * * * *

Sir THOMAS WYAT. 

Was distinguished by the appellation of the Elder, as there was one ofthe same name who raised a rebellion in the time of Queen Mary. Hewas son to Henry Wyat of Alington-castle in Kent. He received therudiments of his education at Cambridge, and was afterwards placed atOxford to finish it. He was in great esteem with King Henry VIII. Onaccount of his wit and Love Elegies, pieces of poetry in which heremarkably succeeded. The affair of Anne Bullen came on, when he madesome opposition to the King's passion for her, that was likely toprove fatal to him; but by his prudent behaviour, and retractingwhat he had formerly advanced, he was restored again to his royalpatronage. He was cotemporary with the Earl of Surry, who held him inhigh esteem. He travelled into foreign parts, and as we have observedin the Earl of Surry's life, he added something towards refining theEnglish stile, and polishing our numbers, tho' he seems not to havedone so much in that way as his lordship. Pitts and Bale have entirelyneglected him, yet for his translation of David's Psalms into Englishmetre and other poetical works, Leland scruples not to compare himwith Dante and Petrarch, by giving him this ample commendation. 

 Let Florence fair her Dantes justly boast, And royal Rome, her Petrarchs numbered feet, In English Wyat both of them doth coast: In whom all graceful eloquence doth meet. 

Leland published all his works under the title of Nænia. Some of hisBiographers (Mrs. Cooper and Winstanley) say that he died of theplague as he was going on an embassy to the Emperor Charles V. ButWood asserts, that he was only sent to Falmo by the King to meet theSpanish ambassador on the road, and conduct him to the court, which itseems demanded very great expedition; that by over-fatiguing himself, he was thrown into a fever, and in the thirty-eighth year of his agedied in a little country-town in England, greatly lamented by alllovers of learning and politeness. In his poetical capacity, he doesnot appear to have much imagination, neither are his verses so musicaland well polished as lord Surry's. Those of gallantry in particularseem to be too artificial and laboured for a lover, without thatartless simplicity which is the genuine mark of feeling; and toostiff, and negligent of harmony for a His letters to John Poynes andSir Francis Bryan deserve more notice, they argue him a man of greatsense and honour, a critical observer of manners and well-qualifiedfor an elegant and genteel satirist. These letters containobservations on the Courtier's Life, and I shall quote a few lines asa specimen, by which it will be seen how much he falls short ofhis noble cotemporary, lord Surry, and is above those writers thatpreceded him in versification. 

 The COURTIERS LIFE. 

 In court to serve decked with fresh araye, Of sugared meats seling the sweet repast, The life in blankets, and sundry kinds of playe, Amidst the press the worldly looks to waste, Hath with it joyned oft such bitter taste, That whoso joys such kind of life to holde, In prison joys, fetter'd with chains of golde. 

 * * * * *

THOMAS SACKVILLE, Earl DORSET

Was son of Richard Sackville and Winifrede, daughter of Sir JohnBruges, Lord of London. [1] He was born at Buckhurst in the parish ofWithiam in Suffex, and from his childhood was distinguished for witand manly behaviour: He was first of the University of Oxford, buttaking no degree there, he went to Cambridge, and commenced master ofarts; he afterwards studied the law in the Inner-Temple, and became abarrister; but his genius being too lively to be confined to a dullplodding study, he chose rather to dedicate his hours to poetry andpleasure; he was the first that wrote scenes in verse, the Tragedy ofFerrex and Perrex, sons to Gorboduc King of Britain, being performedin the presence of Queen Elizabeth, long before Shakespear appeared[2]on the stage, by the Gentlemen of the Inner-Temple, at Whitehall the18th of January, 1561, which Sir Philip Sidney thus characterises: "Itis full of stately speeches, and well founding phrases, climbing tothe height of Seneca's stile, and as full of notable morality, whichit doth most delightfully teach, and so obtain the very end ofpoetry. " In the course of his studies, he was most delighted with thehistory of his own country, and being likewise well acquainted withantient history, he formed a design of writing the lives of severalgreat personages in verse, of which we have a specimen in a bookpublished 1610, called the Mirror of Magistrates, being a trueChronicle History of the untimely falls of such unfortunate princesand men of note, as have happened since the first entrance of Bruteinto this Island until his own time. It appears by a preface ofRichard Nicolls, that the original plan of the Mirror of Magistrateswas principally owing to him, a work of great labour, use and beauty. The induction, from which I shall quote a few lines, is indeed amaster-piece, and if the-whole could have been compleated in the samemanner, it would have been an honour to the nation to this day, norcould have sunk under the ruins of time; but the courtier put an endto the poet; and one cannot help wishing for the sake of our nationalreputation, that his rise at court had been a little longer delayed:It may easily be seen that allegory was brought to great perfectionbefore the appearance of Spencer, and if Mr. Sackville did notsurpass him, it was because he had the disadvantage of writing first. Agreeable to what Tasso exclaimed on seeing Guarini's Pastor Fido; 'Ifhe had not seen my Aminta, he had not excelled it. '

Our author's great abilities being distinguished at court, he wascalled to public affairs: In the 4th and 5th years of Queen Mary wefind him in parliament; in the 5th year of Elizabeth, when hisfather was chosen for Sussex, he was returned one of the Knights ofBuckinghamshire to the parliament then held. He afterwards travelledinto foreign parts, and was detained for some time prisoner at Rome. His return into England being procured, in order to take possession ofthe vast inheritance his father left him, he was knighted by the dukeof Norfolk in her Majesty's presence[3] 1567, and at the same dayadvanced to the degree and dignity of a baron of this realm, by thetitle of lord Buckhurst: He was of so profuse a temper, that though hethen enjoyed a great estate, yet by his magnificent way of living hespent more than the income of it, and[4] a story is told of him, 'Thatcalling on an alderman of London, who had got very considerably by theloan of his money to him, he was obliged to wait his coming downso long, as made such an impression on his generous humour, thatthereupon he turned a thrifty improver of his estate. ' But othersmake him the convert of Queen Elizabeth, (to whom he was allied, hisgrandfather having married a lady related to Ann Bullen) who by herfrequent admonitions diverted the torrent of his profusion, and thenreceived him into her particular favour. Camden says, that in the 14thof that Princess, he was sent ambassador to Charles IX King of France, to congratulate his marriage with the Emperor Maximilian's daughter, and on other important affairs where he was honourably received, according to his Queen's merit and his own; and having in companyGuido Cavalcanti, a Gentleman of Florence, a person of greatexperience, and the Queen-mother being a Florentine, a treaty ofmarriage was publickly transacted between Queen Elizabeth and herson the duke of Anjou. In the 15th of her Majesty he was one of thepeers[5] that sat on the trial of Thomas Howard duke of Norfolk, [6]and on the 29th of Elizabeth, was nominated one of the commissionersfor the trial of Mary Queen of Scots, and at that time was of theprivy council, but his lordship is not mentioned amongst the peerswho met at Fotheringay Castle and condemned the Queen; yet when theparliament had confirmed the sentence, he was made choice of to conveythe news to her Majesty, and see their determination put in executionagainst that beauteous Princess; possibly because he was a man of fineaccomplishments, and tenderness of disposition, and could manage sodelicate a point with more address than any other courtier. In thesucceeding year he was sent ambassador to the States of the UnitedProvinces, upon their dislike of the earl of Leicester's proceedingsin a great many respects, there to examine the business, and composethe difference: He faithfully discharged this invidious office, butthereby incurred the earl of Leicester's displeasure; who prevailedwith the Queen, as he was her favourite, to call the lord Buckhursthome, and confine him to his house for nine months; but survivingthat earl, the Queen's favour returned, and he was elected the Aprilfollowing, without his knowledge, one of the Knights of the most nobleOrder of the Garter. He was one of the peers that sat on the trial ofPhilip Howard, earl of Arundel. In the 4th year of the Queen's reignhe was joined with the Lord Treasurer Burleigh, in promoting a peacewith Spain; in which trust he was so successful, that the High Admiralof Holland was sent over by the States, of the United Provinces, torenew their treaty with the crown of England, being afraid of itsunion with Spain. Lord Buckhurst had the sole management of thatnegotiation (as Burleigh then lay sick) and Concluded a treaty withhim, by which his mistress was eased of no less than 120, 000 l. Perannum, besides other advantages. 

His lordship succeeded Sir Christopher Hatton, in the Chancellorshipof the university of Oxford, in opposition to Robert Devereux, earlof Essex, Master of the Horse to the Queen, who a little before wasincorporated master of arts in the said university, to capacitate himfor that office; but on receipt of letters from her Majesty in favourof lord Buckhurst, the Academicians elected him Chancellor on the17th of December following. On the death of lord Burleigh, the Queenconsidering the great services he had done his country, which had costhim immense expences, was pleased to constitute him in the 41st yearof her reign, Lord High Treasurer of England: In the succeeding year1599, he was in commission with Sir Thomas Egerton, Lord Chancellor, and the earl of Essex, Earl-Marshal, for negotiating affairs with theSenate of Denmark, as also in a special commission for suppressingschism, and afterwards when libels were dispersed by the earl of Essexand his faction against the Queen, intimating that her Majesty tooklittle care of the government, and altogether neglected the state ofIreland, [7] his lordship engaged in a vindication of her Majesty, and made answers to these libels, representing how brave and wellregulated an army had been sent into Ireland, compleatly furnishedwith all manner of provisions, and like wise that her Majesty hadexpended on that war in six months time, the sum of 600, 000 l. Whichlord Essex must own to be true. He suspected that earl's mutinousdesigns, by a greater concourse of people resorting to his house thanordinary, and sent his son to pay him a visit, [8] and to desire himto be careful of the company he kept. Essex being sensible thathis scheme was already discovered by the penetrating eye of lordBuckhurst, he and his friends entered upon new measures, and breakingout into an open rebellion, were obliged to surrender themselvesprisoners. When that unfortunate favourite, together with the earl ofSouthampton, was brought to trial, lord Buckhurst was constituted onthat occasion Lord High Steward of England, and passing sentence onthe earl of Essex, his Lordship in a very eloquent speech desired himto implore the Queen's mercy. After this, it being thought necessaryfor the safety of the nation, that some of the leading conspiratorsshould suffer death, his Lordship advised her Majesty to pardon therest. Upon this he had a special commission granted him, together withsecretary Cecil, and the earl of Nottingham, Lord High Admiral, tocall before them all such as were concerned in the conspiracy with theearls of Essex and Southampton, and to treat and compound with suchoffenders for the redemption and composition of their lands. After thedeath of Queen Elizabeth, his lordship was concerned in taking thenecessary measures for the security of the kingdom, the administrationbeing devolved on him and other counsellors, who unanimouslyproclaimed King James, and signed a letter March 28, 1603 to the lordEure, and the rest of the commissioners, for the treaty of Breme, notifying her majesty's decease, and the recognition and proclamationof King James of Scotland: who had such a sense of lord Buckhurst'sservices, and superior abilities, that before his arrival in England, he ordered the renewal of his patent, as Lord High Treasurer for life. On the 13th of March next ensuing, he was created earl of Dorset, and constituted one of the commissioners for executing the officeof Earl-Marshal of England, and for reforming sundry abuses in theCollege of Arms. 

In the year 1608, this great man died suddenly at the Council-Table, Whitehall, after a bustling life devoted to the public weal; and the26th of May following, his remains were deposited with great solemnityin Westminster Abbey, his funeral sermon being preached by Dr. Abbot, his chaplain, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury. Besides thiscelebrated sermon of the primate's, in which he is very lavish inhis praise, Lord Chancellor Bacon, and Sir Robert Naunton, bestowparticular encomiums upon him; and Sir Richard Paker observes, "Thathe had excellent parts, and in his place was exceeding industrious, and that he had heard many exchequer men say, there never was a betterTreasurer, both for the King's profit, and the good of the subject. "

By his dying suddenly at the Council-Table, his death was interpretedby some people in a mysterious manner;[9] but his head being opened, there were found in it certain little bags of water, which, whether bystraining in his study the night before, in which he sat up till 11o'clock, or otherwise by their own maturity, suddenly breaking, andfalling upon his brain, produced his death, to the universal griefof the nation, for which he had spent his strength, and for whoseinterest, in a very immediate manner, he may be justly said to havefallen a sacrifice. Of all our court poets he seems to have united thegreatest industry and variety of genius: It is seldom found, that thesons of Parnassus can devote themselves to public business, or executeit with success. I have already observed, that the world has lost manyexcellent works, which no doubt this cultivated genius would haveaccomplished, had he been less involved in court-affairs: but ashe acted in so public a sphere, and discharged every office withinviolable honour, and consummate prudence, it is perhaps somewhatselfish in the lovers of poetry, to wish he had wrote more, and actedless. From him is descended the present noble family of the Dorsets;and it is remarkable, that all the descendants of this great man haveinherited his taste for liberal arts and sciences, as well as hiscapacity for public business. An heir of his was the friend and patronof Dryden, and is stiled by Congreve the monarch of wit in his time, and the present age is happy in his illustrious posterity, rivallingfor deeds of honour and renown the most famous of their ancestors. 

 * * * * *

INDUCTION to the MIRROR Of MAGISTRATES. 

 The wrathful winter hast'ning on apace, With blustring blasts had all ybard the treene, And old Saturnus with his frosty face With chilling cold had pearst the tender greene: The mantles rent, wherein enwrapped been, The gladsome groves, that now lay overthrown, The tapets torn, and every tree down blown. 

 The soil that erst so seemly was to seen, Was all despoiled of her beauteous hew, And soote fresh flowers wherewith the summers queen, Had clad the earth, new Boreas blasts down blew And small fowls flocking in their songs did rew The winter's wrath, wherewith each thing defaste, In woeful wise bewailed the summer past. 

[Footnote 1: Fuller's Worthies, p. 105]

[Footnote 2: Wood Ath. Qx. Præd. ]

[Footnote 3: Collins's peerage, 519. ]

[Footnote 4: Ib. 519. ]

[Footnote 5: Rapin's History of England, p. 437. ]

[Footnote 6: This nobleman suffered death for a plot to recover theliberty of the Queen of Scots. ]

[Footnote 7: Rapin's History of England, vol ii. P. 617. ]

[Footnote 8: Rapin'a History of England, vol. Ii. P. 630. ]

[Footnote 9: Chron. 2d edit. P. 596. ]

 * * * * *

THOMAS CHURCHYARD, One of the assistants in the Mirror of Magistrates. He was born in thetown of Shrewsbury[1] as himself affirms in his book made in verse ofthe Worthiness of Wales. He was equally addicted to arts and arms;he had a liberal education, and inherited some fortune, real andpersonal; but he soon exhausted it, in a tedious and unfruitfulattendance at court, for he gained no other equivalent for thatmortifying dependance, but the honour of being retained a domesticin the family of lord Surry: during which time by his lordship'sencouragement he commenced poet. Upon his master's death he betookhimself to arms; was in many engagements, and was frequently wounded;he was twice a prisoner, and redeemed by the charity of two nobleladies, yet still languishing in distress, and bitterly complaining offortune. Neither of his employments afforded him a patron, who woulddo justice to his obscure merit; and unluckily he was as unhappy inhis amours as in his circumstances, some of his mistresses treatinghis addresses with contempt, perhaps, on account of his poverty;for tho' it generally happens that Poets have the greatest power incourtship, as they can celebrate their mistresses with more elegancethan people of any other profession; yet it very seldom falls out thatthey marry successfully, as their needy circumstances naturally deterthem from making advances to Ladies of such fashion as their geniusand manners give them a right to address. This proved our author'scase exactly; he made love to a widow named Browning, who possessed avery good jointure; but this lady being more in love with money thanlaurels, with wealth than merit, rejected his suit; which not a littlediscouraged him, as he had spent his money in hopes of effecting thismatch, which, to his great mortification, all his rhimes and sonnetscould not do. He dedicated his vorks to Sir Christopher Hatton; butaddresses of that nature don't always imply a provision for theirauthor. It is conjectured that he died about the eleventh year ofQueen Elizabeth, and according to Mr. Wood was buried near Skeltonin the Chancel of St. Margaret's, Westminster. By his writings, heappears a man of sense, and sometimes a poet, tho' he does not seem topossess any degree of invention. His language is generally pure, andhis numbers not wholly inharmonious. The Legend of Jane Shore is themost finished of all his works, from which I have taken a quotation. His death, according to the most probable conjecture, happened in1570. Thus like a stone (says Winstanley) did he trundle about, butnever gathered any moss, dying but poor, as may be seen by his epitaphin Mr. Camden's Remains, which runs thus:

 Come Alecto, lend me thy torch To find a Church-yard in a Church-porch; Poverty and poetry his tomb doth enclose, Wherefore good neighbours, be merry in prose. 

His works according to Winstanley are as follow:

The Siege of Leith. 

A Farewell to the world. 

A feigned Fancy of the Spider and the Gaul. 

A doleful Discourse of a Lady and a Knight. 

The Road into Scotland, by Sir William Drury. 

Sir Simon Burley's Tragedy. 

A lamentable Description of the Wars in Flanders in prose, anddedicated to Walsingham secretary of state. 

A light Bundle of lively Discourses, called Churchyard's Charge 1580, dedicated to his noble patron the Earl of Surry. 

A Spark of Friendship, a treatise on that writer, address'd to SirWalter Raleigh. 

A Description and Discourse on the use of paper, in which he praises apaper-mill built near Darthsend, by a German called Spillman. 

The Honour of the Law 1596. 

Jane Shore, mistress to King Edward IV. 

A Tragical Discourse of the unhappy Man's Life. 

A Discourse of Virtue. 

Churchyard's Dream. 

A Tale of a Fryar and a Shoemaker's Wife, The Siege of Edinburgh Castle. 

Queen Elizabeth's reception into Bristol. 

These twelve several pieces he bound together, calling themChurchyard's Chips, which he dedicated to Sir Christopher Hatton. Hewrote beside, The Tragedy of Thomas Moubray Duke of Norfolk. Among the rest by fortune overthrowne, I am not least, that most may waile her fate: My fame and brute, abroad the world is blowne, Who can forget a thing thus done so late? My great mischance, my fall, and heavy state, Is such a marke whereat each tongue doth shoot That my good name, is pluckt up by the root, [Footnote 1: Winst. 61. ]

 * * * * *

JOHN HEYWOOD

One of the first who wrote English plays, was a noted jester, of somereputation in poetry in his time. Wood says, that notwithstanding hewas stiled Civis Londinensis, yet he laid a foundation of learning atOxford, but the severity of an academical life not suitng with hisairy genius, he retired to his native place, and had the honour tohave a great intimacy with Sir Thomas More. It is said, that he hadadmirable skill both in instrumental and vocal music, but it is notcertain whether he left any compositions of that sort behind him. Hefound means to become a favourite with King Henry VIII on accountof the quickness of his conceits, and was well rewarded by thatMonarch. [1] After the accession of Queen Mary to the throne, hewas equally valued by her, and was admitted into the most intimateconversation with her, in diverting her by his merry stories, which hedid, even when she lay languishing on her death-bed. After the deceaseof that princess, he being a bigotted Roman Catholic, and finding theprotestant interest was like to prevail under the patronage of therenowned Queen Elizabeth, he sacrificed the enjoyment of living in hisown country, to that of his religion: For he entered into a voluntaryexile, and settled at Mechlin in Brabant. 

The Play called the Four P's being a new and and merry interlude ofa Palmer, Pardoner, Poticary, and Pedler--printed in an old Englishcharacter in quarto, has in the title page the pictures of four men inold-fashioned habits, wrought off, from a wooden cut. He has likewisewrit the following interludes. 

 Between John the Husband and Tib the Wife. Between the Pardoner and the Fryer, the Curate and neighbouring Pratt. Play of Gentleness and Nobility, in two parts. The Pindar of Wakefield, a comedy. Philotas Scotch, a comedy. 

This author also wrote a dialogue, containing the number in effect ofall the proverbs in the English tongue, compact in a matter concerningtwo manner of marriages. London 1547, and 1598, in two parts inquarto, all writ in old English verse, and printed in an Englishcharacter. 

Three hundred epigrams upon three hundred proverbs, in old Englishcharacter. 

A fourth hundred of epigrams, printed in quarto, London 1598. 

A fifth hundred of epigrams, printed in quarto, London 1598. 

The Spider and Fly. A Parable of the Spider and Fly, London 1556, in apretty thick quarto, all in old English verse. Before the title is thepicture of John Heywood at full length, printed from a wooden cut, with a fur gown on, almost representing the fashion of that, belongingto a master of arts, but the bottom of the sleeve reach no lower thanhis knees; on his head is a round cap, his chin and lips are closeshaved, and hath a dagger hanging to his girdle. [2]

Dr. Fuller mentions a book writ by our author, [3] entitled MonumentaLiteraria, which are said to Non tam labore, condita, quam Leporecondita: The author of English poetry, speaking of several of our oldEnglish bards, says thus of our poet. "John Heywood for the mirth andquickness of conceit, more than any good learning that was in him, came to be well rewarded by the king. "

That the reader may judge of his epigrams, to which certainly thewriter just mentioned alludes, I shall present him with one writ byhim on himself. 

 Art thou Heywood, with thy mad merry wit? Yea for sooth master, that name is even hit. Art thou Heywood, that apply's mirth more than thrift? Yes sir, I take merry mirth, a golden gift. Art thou Heywood, that hast made many mad plays? Yea many plays, few good works in my days. Art thou Heywood, that hath made men merry long? Yea, and will, if I be made merry among. Art thou Heywood, that would'st be made merry now? Yes, Sir, help me to it now, I beseech you. 

He died at Mechlin, in the year 1565, and was buried there, leavingbehind him several children, to whom he had given liberal education, one of whom is Jasper, who afterwards made a considerable figure, andbecame a noted Jesuit. 

[Footnote 1: Wood Athen, Oxon. ]

[Footnote 2: Wood ubi supra. ]

[Footnote 3: Worthies of London, p. 221. ]

 * * * * *

GEORGE FERRARS, Descended of an ancient family seated in Hertfordshire, was born therein a village not far from St. Alban's about the year 1510[1]. He wasa lawyer, a historian, and a poet; he received his education at theuniversity of Oxford, but of what college he was Wood himself has notbeen able to discover; he removed from thence to Lincolns'-Inn, where, by a diligent application to the law, he made considerable progress inhis profession, and by the patronage of that great minister CromwellEarl of Essex, who was himself a man of astonishing abilities, he soonmade a figure at the bar. He was the menial servant of King HenryVIII. [2] and discharged his trust both in time of war and peace withgreat honour and gallantry, and shared that monarch's favour in a veryconsiderable degree, who made him a grant in his own country, as anevidence of his affection for him. This grant of the King's happenedin the year 1535; and yet in seven years afterwards, either thro' wantof economy, or by a boundless confidence in his friends, he reducedhis affairs to a very indifferent situation, which, perhaps, mightbe the reason, why he procured himself to be chosen Member for theBorough of Plymouth in the county of Devon, [3] in the Parliamentsummoned the thirty-third year of that King's reign. During theSessions he had the misfortune to be arrested by an officer belongingto the Sheriffs of London, and carried to the counter, then inBread-street. No sooner had the House of Commons got notice of thisinsult offered to one of their Members, than they immediately enacteda settled rule, which from that accident took place, with respect toprivilege, and ever since that time the Members of the House havebeen exempt from arrests for debt. His Majesty likewise resentedthe affront offered to his servant, and with the concurrence of theParliament proceeded very severely against the Sheriffs. 

Hollinshed in his chronicle, vol 2, p. 955, gives a very full accountof it. Sir Thomas Moils, knight, then Speaker of the House, gave aspecial order to the Serjeant of the Parliament to repair tothe Compter, and there demand the delivery of the prisoner. Butnotwithstanding this high authority, the officers in the city refusedto obey the command, and after many altercations, they absolutelyresisted the Serjeant, upon which a fray ensued within theCompter-gates, between Ferrars and the officers, not without mutualhurt, so that the Serjeant was driven to defend himself with his maceof arms, and had the crown of it broken with warding off a stroke; theSheriffs of London so far from appeasing, fomented the quarrel, andwith insolent language refused to deliver their prisoner: Upon whichthe Serjeant, thus abused, returned to the House and related what hadhappened. This circumstance so exasperated the Burgesses, that theyall rose and went into the Upper House, and declared they wouldtransact no more business till their Member was restored to them. Theythen commanded their Serjeant again to go to the Compter with hismace, and make a second demand by their authority. --The Sheriffshearing that the Upper House hid concerned themselves in it, and beingafraid of their resentment, restored the prisoner before the Serjeanthad time to return to the Compter; but this did not satisfy theBurgesses, they summoned the Sheriffs before them, together with oneWhite, who in contempt of their dignity had taken out a writ againstFerrars, and as a punishment for their insolence, they were sent tothe Tower; and ever since that period, the power and privilege of theCommons have been on the increase. 

Ferrars continued in high favour with Henry during the remainder ofhis reign, and seems to have stood upon good terms with Somerset LordProtector in the beginning of Edward VI. Since it appears that heattended the Protector in quality of one of the Commissioners of theArmy, in his expedition into Scotland in 1548, [4] which, perhaps, might be owing to his being about the person of Prince Edward in hisfather's life-time. Another instance of this happened about four yearsafterwards, at a very critical juncture, for when the unfortunate Dukeof Somerset lay under sentence of death, and it was observed that thepeople murmured and often gave testimonies of discontent, and that theKing himself was very uneasy, those about him studied every methodto quiet and amuse the one, to entertain and divert the other[5]. Inorder to this, at the entrance of Christmas holidays, Mr. Ferrarswas proclaimed Lord Misrule, that is a kind of Prince of sports andpastimes, which office he discharged for twelve days together atGreenwich with great magnificence and address, and entirely to theKing's satisfaction. 

In this character, attended by the politest part of the Court, he madean excursion to London, where he was splendidly entertained by theLord Mayor, and when he took his leave he had presents given him intoken of respect. But notwithstanding he made so great figure inthe diversions at court, yet he was no idle spectator of politicalaffairs, and maintained his reputation with the learned world. Hewrote the reign of Queen Mary, which tho' published in the name ofRichard Grafton, in his chronicles; yet was certainly the performanceof Ferrars, according to the annals of Stow, p. 632, whose authorityin this case is very high. Our author was an historian, a lawyer, anda politician even in his poetry, as appears from these pieces of hiswhich are inserted in the Mirror of Magistrates, and which are notinferior to any others that have found a place there[6]. In the earlypart of his life he wrote some tracts on his own profession, whichgained him great reputation, and which discover that he was a loverof liberty, and not disposed to sacrifice to the crown the rights andproperties of the subject. It seldom happens that when a man oftenchanges his situation, or is forced to do so, that he continuesto preserve the good opinion of different parties, but this was ahappiness which Ferrars enjoyed. He was consulted by the learned as acandid critic, admired and loved by all who conversed with him. 

With respect to the time of our author's death, we cannot beabsolutely certain; all we know is, that he died in the year 1579, athis house in Flamstead in Hertfordshire, and was buried in the parishchurch; for as Wood informs us, on the eighteenth of May the sameyear a commission was granted from the prerogative, to administer thegoods, debts, chattles, etc. Of George Ferrars lately deceased[7]. None of our authors deliver any thing as to Mr. Ferrars's religion, but it is highly probable that he was a zealous Protestant: not fromhis accepting grants of Abbey-lands, for that is but a precariousproof, but from his coming into the world under the protection ofThomas Lord Cromwell, who was certainly persuaded of the truth of theprotestant religion. 

Having this occasion to mention Thomas Lord Cromwell, the famous Earlof Essex, who was our author's warmest patron, I am persuaded myreaders will forgive me a digression which will open to them thenoblest instance of gratitude and honour in that worthy nobleman, thatever adorned the page of an historian, and which has been told withrapture by all who have writ of the times, particularly by Dr. Burnetin his history of the Reformation, and Fox in his Martyrology. --ThomasLord Cromwell was the son of a Blacksmith at Putney, and was a soldierunder the duke of Bourbon at the sacking of Rome in the year 1527. While he was abroad in a military character, in a very low station, hefell sick, and was unable to follow the army; he was observed oneday by an Italian merchant to walk very pensive, and had all theappearance of penury and wretchedness: The merchant enquired ofhim the place of his birth, and fortune, and upon conversing withCromwell, was so well pleased with the account he gave of himself, that he supplied him with money and credit to carry him to England. Cromwell afterwards made the most rapid progress in state-prefermentsever known. Honours were multiplied thick upon him, and he came tohave the dispensing of his sovereign's bounty. It happened, that thisItalian merchant's circumstances decayed, and he came to England tosollicit the payment of some debts due to him by his correspondents;who finding him necessitous, were disposed to put him off, and takethe advantage of his want, to avoid payment. This not a littleembarrassed the foreigner, who was now in a situation forlorn enough. As providence would have it, lord Cromwell, then Earl of Essex, ridingto court, saw this merchant walking with a dejected countenance, whichput him in mind of his former situation. He immediately ordered oneof his attendants to desire the merchant to come to his house. Hislordship asked the merchant whether he knew him? he answered no:Cromwell then related the circumstance of the merchant's relievinga certain Englishman; and asked if he remembered it? The merchantanswered, that he had always made it his business to do good, but didnot remember that circumstance. --His lordship then enquired the reasonof his coming to England, and upon the merchant's telling him hisstory, he so interested himself, as soon to procure the payment of allhis debts. --Cromwell then informed the merchant, that he was himselfthe person he had thus relieved; and for every Ducat which themerchant had given him, he returned to the value of a hundred, tellinghim, that this was the payment of his debt. He then made him amunificent present, and asked him whether he chose to settle inEngland, or return to his own country. The foreigner chose the latter, and returned to spend the remainder of his days in competence andquiet, after having experienced in lord Essex as high an instance ofgenerosity and gratitude as perhaps ever was known. This noble act ofhis lordship, employed, says Burnet, the pens of the belt writers atthat time in panegyrics on so great a behaviour; the finest poetspraised him; his most violent enemies could not help admiring him, andlatest posterity shall hold the name of him in veneration, who wascapable of so generous an act of honour. But to return to Ferrars. 

In our author's history of the reign of Queen Mary, tho' he shewshimself a great admirer of the personal virtues of that Princess, anda very discerning and able historian, yet it is every where evidentthat he was attached to the protestant interest; but more especiallyin the learned account he gives of Archbishop Cranmer's death, andSir Thomas Wyat's insurrection[8]. The works of this author which areprinted in the Mirror of Magistrates, are as follow;

 The Fall of Robert Tresilian, Chief Justice of England, for misconstruing the laws, and expounding them to serve the prince's affections. 

 The Tragedy, or unlawful murther of Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester. 

 The Tragedy of Richard II. 

 The Story of Dame Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester. 

 The Story of Humphry Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester, Protector of England. 

 The Tragedy of Edmund Duke of Somerset. 

Among these the Complaints of Eleanor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester, who was banished for consulting Conjurers and Fortune-tellers aboutthe Life of King Henry VI. And whose exile quickly made way for themurder of her husband, has of all his compositions been most admired;and from this I shall quote a few lines which that Lady speaks. 

 The Isle of Man was the appointed place, To penance me for ever in exile;

 Thither in haste, they posted me apace, And doubting 'scape, they pined me in a pyle, Close by myself; in care alas the while. There felt I first poor prisoner's hungry fare, Much want, things skant, and stone walls, hard and bare. 

 The chaunge was straunge from silke and cloth of gold To rugged fryze, my carcass for to cloath; From prince's fare, and dainties hot and cold, To rotten fish, and meats that one would loath: The diet and dressing were much alike boath: Bedding and lodging were all alike fine, Such down it was as served well for swyne. 

[Footnote 1: From manuscript note on the art of poetry. ]

[Footnote 2: Biog. Brit. P. 1922. ]

[Footnote 3: Willis notitia Parliam. Vol 2. P. 295. ]

[Footnote 4: Patten's Journal of the Scotch expedition, p. 13. ]

[Footnote 5: Stow's Annal. P. 608. ]

[Footnote 6: Lond. 40. ]

[Footnote 7: Athen. Oxon. Vol. I. Col. 146. ]

[Footnote 8: Grafton's Chron. P. 1350, 1351. ]

 * * * * *

Sir PHILIP SIDNEY. 

This great ornament to human nature, to literature, and to Britain, was the son of Sir Henry Sidney, knight of the Garter, and three timesLord Deputy of Ireland, and of lady Mary Dudley, daughter to the dukeof Northumberland, and nephew to that great favourite, Robert, earl ofLeicester. 

Oxford had the honour of his education, under the tuition of Dr. Thomas Thornton, canon of Christ Church. At the university he remainedtill he was 17 years of age, and in June 1572 set out on his travels. On the 24th of August following, when the massacre fell out at Paris, he was then there, [1] and with other Englishmen took shelter in SirFrancis Walsingham's house, her Majesty's ambassador at that court. When this storm subsided, he departed from Paris, went throughLorrain, and by Strasburgh and Heydelburgh, to Francfort, in Septemberor October following; where he settled for some time, and wasentertained, agent for the duke of Saxony. At his return, her Majestywas one of the first who distinguished his great abilities, and, asproud of so rich a treasure, she sent him ambassador to Rodolph theemperor, to condole him on the death of Maximilian, and also to otherprinces of Germany. The next year, 1577, he went to the court of thatgallant prince Don John de Austria, Viceroy in the low countries forthe king of Spain. Don John was the proudest man in his time;haughty and imperious in his behaviour, and always used the foreignambassadors, who came to his court, with unsufferable insolence andsuperiority: At first he paid but little respect to Sidney on accountof his youth, and seeming inexperience; but having had occasion tohear him talk, and give some account of the manners of every courtwhere he had been, he was so struck with his vivacity, the proprietyof his observations, and the lustre of his parts, that he everafterwards used him with familiarity, and paid him more respect in hisprivate character, than he did to any ambassador from whatever court. Some years after this, Wood observes, that in a book called Cabala, heset forth his reasons why the marriage of the queen with the duke ofAnjou was disadvantageous to the nation. This address was written atthe desire of the earl of Leicester, his uncle; upon which, a quarrelhappened between him and the earl of Oxford, which perhaps occasionedhis retirement from court for two years, when he wrote that renownedromance called Arcadia. We find him again in high favour, when thetreaty of marriage was renewed; he was engaged with Sir Fulk Grevillein tilting, for the diversion of the court; and at the departure ofthe duke of Anjou from England, he attended him to Antwerp [2]. 

On the 8th of January, 1582, he received the honour of knighthoodfrom the queen; and in the beginning of the year 1585, he designed anexpedition with Sir Francis Drake into America; but being hindered bythe Queen, who thought the court would be deficient without him, hewas made Governor of Flushing, (about that time delivered to the Queenfor one of the cautionary-towns) and General of the Horse. In boththese places of important trust, his behaviour in point of prudenceand valour was irreproachable, and gained additional honour to hiscountry, especially when in July 1586 he surprized Axil, and preservedthe lives and reputation of the English army, at the enterprise ofGravelin. About that time he was in election for the crown of Poland, but the queen refused to promote this his glorious advancement, notfrom jealousy, but from the fear of losing the jewel of her times. Heunited the statesman, the scholar and the soldier; and as by the one, he purchased fame and honour in his life, so by the other, he hasacquired immortality after death. 

In the year 1586, when that unfortunate stand was made against theSpaniards before Zutphen, the 22d of September, when he was gettingupon the third horse, having had two slain under him before, he waswounded with a musket-shot out of the trenches, which broke the boneof his thigh. The horse he rode upon was rather furiously choleric, than bravely proud, so forced him to forsake the field, but not hisback, as the noblest and fittest bier (says lord Brook) to carry amartial commander to his grave. In this progress, passing along by therest of the army where his uncle the [3] General was, and being faintwith excess of bleeding, he called for drink, which was presentlybrought him; but as he was putting the bottle to his mouth, he saw apoor soldier carried along, who had been wounded at the same time, wishfully cast up his eyes at the bottle; whereupon Sir Philip took itfrom his own mouth before he drank, and delivered it to the poor man, with these words, "thy necessity is yet greater than mine;" and whenhe had assisted this poor soldier and fellow sufferer, as he calledhim, he was presently carried to Arnheim, where the principal surgeonsof the camp attended him. 

This generous behaviour of our gallant knight, ought not to passwithout a panegyric. All his deeds of bravery, his politeness, hislearning, and courtly accomplishments, do not reflect so muchhonour upon him, as this one disinterested, truly heroic action: Itdiscovered so tender and benevolent a nature; a mind so fortifiedagainst pain; a heart so overflowing with generous sentiments, torelieve, in opposition to the violent call of his own necessities, apoor man languishing in the same distress, before himself, that asnone can read it without the highest admiration of the wounded hero, so none I hope will think me extravagant in thus endeavouring to extolit. Bravery is often constitutional; fame may be the motive to featsof arms, a statesman and a courtier may act from interest; but asacrifice so generous as this, can be made by none but those whoare good as well as great, who are noble-minded, and gloriouslycompassionate, like Sidney. 

When the surgeons began to dress his wound, he told them, that whilehis strength was yet entire, his body free from a fever, and his mindable to endure, they might freely use their art; cut and search to thebottom; but if they should neglect their art, and renew torments inthe declination of nature, their ignorance, or over-tenderness wouldprove a kind of tyranny to their friend, and reflect no honour uponthemselves. 

For some time they had great hopes of his recovery; and so zealouswere they to promote it, and overjoyed at its seeming approach, thatthey spread the report of it, which soon reached London, and diffusedthe most general joy at Court that ever was known. 

At the same time count Hollock was under the care of a most excellentsurgeon, for a wound in his throat by a musket shot; yet he neglectedhis own extremity to save his friend, and for that purpose sent him toSir Philip. This surgeon notwithstanding, out of love to his master, returning one day to dress his wound, the count cheerfully asked himhow Sir Philip did? he answered with a dejected look, that he was notwell: At these words the count, as having more sense of his friend'swound than his own, cried out, "Away villain, never see my face againtill you bring better news of that gentleman's recovery, for whoseredemption, many such as I were happily lost. "

Finding all the efforts of the surgeons in vain, he began to put nomore confidence in their skill, and resigned himself with heroicpatience to his fate. He called the ministers to him, who were allexcellent men of different nations, and before them made such aconfession of Christian faith, as no book, but the heart, can trulyand feelingly deliver. Then calling for his will, and settling histemporal affairs, the last scene of this tragedy, was the partingbetween the two brothers. Sir Philip exerted all his soul inendeavouring to suppress his sorrow, in which affection and naturewere too powerful for him, while the other demonstrated his tendernessby immoderate transports of grief, a weakness which every tenderbreast will easily forgive, who have ever felt the pangs of partingfrom a brother; and a brother of Sir Philip Sidney's worth, demandedstill additional sorrow. He took his leave with these admonishingwords, "My dear, much loved, honoured brother, love my memory; cherishmy friends; their faith to me may assure you they are honest. Butabove all, govern your will and affections, by the will and word ofyour Creator. In me, beholding the end of this world with all hervanities. " And with this farewel he desired the company to lead himaway. 

After his death, which happened on the 16th of October, the States ofZealand became suitors to his Majesty, and his noble friends, thatthey might have the honour of burying his body at the public expenceof their government, [4] but in this they were denied; for soon after, his body was brought to Flushing, and being embarked with greatsolemnity on the 1st of November, landed at Tower Wharf on the 6th ofthe same month; and the 16th of February following, after having lainin state, it was magnificently deposited in St. Paul's Cathedral. 

As the funeral of many princes has not exceeded it in solemnity, sofew have equalled it in the undissembled sorrow for his loss[5] KingJames writ an epitaph upon him, and the Muses of Oxford lamenting him, composed elegies to his memory. It may be justly said of this greatman, what a celebrated poet now living has applied to Archbishop Laud, Around his tomb did art and genius weep, Beauty, wit, piety, and bravery, were undissembled mourners. 

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

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

EPITAPH. 

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

The Arcadia was printed first in 1613 in 4to; it has been translatedinto almost every language. As the ancient Ægyptians presented secretsunder their mystical hyeroglyphics, so that an easy figure wasexhibited to the eye, and a higher notion couched under it to thejudgment, so all the Arcadia is a continual grove of morality, shadowing moral and political truths under the plain and strikingemblems of lovers, so that the reader may be deceived, but not hurt, and happily surprized to more knowledge than he expected. 

Besides the celebrated Arcadia, Sir Philip wrote, A dissuasive letter addressed to Queen Elizabeth; against her marriagewith the duke of Anjou, printed in a book called Serinia Ceciliana, 4to. 1663. 

Astrophel & Stella, written at the desire of Lady Rich, whom heperfectly loved, and is thought to be celebrated in the Arcadia by thename of Philoclea. 

--------------- Ourania, a poem, 1606. 

An Essay on Valour: Some impute this to Sir Thomas Overbury. 

Almanzor and Almanzaida, a novel printed in 1678, which is likewisedisputed; and Wood says that he believes Sir Philip's name was onlyprefixed to it by the bookseller, to secure a demand for it. 

--------England's Helicon, a collection of songs. 

--------The Psalms of David turned into English. 

 The true PICTURE of LOVE. 

 Poore painters oft with silly poets joyne, To fill the world with vain and strange conceits, One brings the stuff, the other stamps the coyne Which breeds nought else but glosses of deceits. Thus painters Cupid paint, thus poets doe A naked god, blind, young, with arrows two. 

 Is he a god, that ever flyes the light? Or naked he, disguis'd in all untruth? If he be blind, how hitteth he so right? How is he young, that tamed old Phoebus youth? But arrowes two, and tipt with gold or lead, Some hurt, accuse a third with horney head. 

 No nothing so; an old, false knave he is, By Argus got on Io, then a cow: What time for her, Juno her Jove did miss, And charge of her to Argus did allow. Mercury killed his false sire for this act, His damme a beast was pardoned, beastly fact. 

 With father's death, and mother's guilty shame, With Jove's disdain at such a rival's feed: The wretch compel'd, a runegate became, And learn'd what ill, a miser-state did breed, To lye, to steal, to prie, and to accuse, Nought in himself, each other to abuse. 

[Footnote 1: Athen, Oxon, folio, p. 226. ]

[Footnote 2: Wood, p. 227. ]

[Footnote 3: Earl of Leicester. ]

[Footnote 4: Lord Brook's life. ]

[Footnote 5: For a great many months after his death, it was reckonedindecent in any gentleman to appear splendidly dress'd; the publicmourned him, not with exterior formality, but with the genuine sorrowof the heart. Of all our poets he seems to be the most courtly, thebravest, the most active, and in the moral sense, the best. ]

[Footnote 6: Camden Brit. In Kent. ]

 * * * * *

CHISTOPHER MARLOE

Was bred a student in Cambridge, but there is no account extant of hisfamily. He soon quitted the University, and became a player on thesame stage with the incomparable Shakespear. He was accounted, saysLangbaine, a very fine poet in his time, even by Ben Johnson himself, and Heywood his fellow-actor stiles him the best of poets. In a copyof verses called the Censure of the Poets, he was thus characterized. 

 Next Marloe bathed in Thespian springs, Had in him those brave sublunary things, That your first poets had; his raptures were All air and fire, which made his verses clear; For that fine madness still he did retain, Which rightly should possess a poet's brain. 

His genius inclined him wholly to tragedy, and he obliged the worldwith six plays, besides one he joined for with Nash, called Dido Queenof Carthage; but before I give an account of them, I shall present hischaracter to the reader upon the authority of Anthony Wood, which istoo singular to be passed over. This Marloe, we are told, presumingupon his own little wit, thought proper to practise the most epicureanindulgence, and openly profess'd atheism; he denied God, Our Saviour;he blasphemed the adorable Trinity, and, as it was reported, wroteseveral discourses against it, affirming Our Saviour to be a deceiver, the sacred scriptures to contain nothing but idle stories, and allreligion to be a device of policy and priestcraft; but Marloe came toa very untimely end, as some remarked, in consequence of his execrableblasphemies. It happened that he fell deeply in love with a low girl, and had for his rival a fellow in livery, who looked more like a pimpthan a lover. Marloe, fired with jealousy, and having some reason tobelieve that his mistress granted the fellow favours, he rushed uponhim to stab him with his dagger; but the footman being quick, avoidedthe stroke, and catching hold of Marloe's wrist stabbed him with hisown weapon, and notwithstanding all the assistance of surgery, he soonafter died of the wound, in the year 1593. Some time before his death, he had begun and made a considerable progress in an excellent poemcalled Hero and Leander, which was afterwards finished by GeorgeChapman, who fell short, as it is said, of the spirit and invention ofMarloe in the execution of it. 

What credit may be due to Mr. Wood's severe representation of thispoet's character, the reader must judge for himself. For my part, I amwilling to suspend my judgment till I meet with some other testimonyof his having thus heinously offended against his God, and against thebest and most amiable system of Religion that ever was, or ever canbe: Marloe might possibly be inclined to free-thinking, withoutrunning the unhappy lengths that Mr. Wood tells us, it was reported hehad done. We have many instances of characters being too lightly takenup on report, and mistakenly represented thro' a too easy credulity;especially against a man who may happen to differ from us in somespeculative points, wherein each party however, may think himselfOrthodox: The good Dr. Clarke himself, has been as ill spoken of asWood speaks of Marloe. 

His other works are

1. Dr. Faustus, his tragical history printed in 4to. London, 1661. 

2. Edward the Second, a Tragedy, printed in 4to. London--when thisplay was acted is not known. 

3. Jew of Malta, a Tragedy played before the King and Queen atWhitehall, 1633. This play was in much esteem in those days; the Jew'spart being performed by Mr. Edward Alleyn, the greatest player of histime, and a man of real piety and goodness; he founded and endowedDulwich hospital in Surry; he was so great an actor, that Betterton, the Roscius of the British nation, used to acknowledge that he owed tohim those great attainments of which he was master. 

4. Lust's Dominion; or the Lascivious Queen, published by Mr. Kirkman, 8vo. London, 1661. This play was altered by Mrs. Behn, and actedunder, the title of the Moor's Revenge. 

5. Massacre of Paris, with the death of the Duke of Guise, a Tragedy, played by the Right Honourable the Lord Admiral's servants. This playis divided into acts; it begins with the fatal marriage between theKing of Navarre, and Margurete de Valois, sister to King Charles IX;the occasion of the massacre, and ends with the death of Henry III ofFrance. 

6. Tamerlain the Great; or the Scythian Shepherd, a Tragedy in twoparts, printed in an old black letter, 8vo. 1593. This is said to bethe worst of his productions. 

 * * * * *

ROBERT GREEN

Received his education at the university of Cambridge, and was, asWinstanley says, a great friend to the printers by the many books hewrit. He was a merry droll in those times, and a man so addicted topleasure, that as Winstanley observes, he drank much deeper draughtsof sack, than of the Heliconian stream; he was amongst the first ofour poets who writ for bread, and in order the better to supporthimself, tho' he lived in an age far from being dissolute, viz. Inthat of the renowned Queen Elizabeth; yet he had recourse to the meanexpedient of writing obscenity, and favouring the cause of vice, bywhich he no doubt recommended himself to the rakes about town, who, asthey are generally no true judges of wit, to estimate the merit ofa piece, as it happens to suit their appetite, or encourage them inevery irregular indulgence. No man of honour who sees a poet endowedwith a large share of natural understanding, prostituting his pen tothe vilest purpose of debauchery and lewdness, can think of him butwith contempt; and his wit, however brilliant, ought not to screen himfrom the just indignation of the sober part of mankind. When wit isprostituted to vice, 'tis wit no more; that is, it ceases to be truewit; and I have often thought there should be some public mark ofinfamy fixed on those who hurt society by loose writings. But Mr. Green must be freed from the imputation of hypocrisy, for we find himpracticing the very doctrines he taught. Winstanley relates that hewas married to a very fine and deserving lady, whom he basely forsook, with a child she had by him, for the company of some harlots, to whomhe applied the wages of iniquity, while his wife starved. After someyears indulgence of this sort, when his wit began to grow stale, wefind him fallen into abject poverty, and lamenting the life he had ledwhich brought him to it; for it always happens, that a mistress is amore expensive piece of furniniture than a wife; and if the modernadulterers would speak the truth, I am certain they would acknowledge, that half the money which, in the true sense of the word, is misspentupon those daughters of destruction, would keep a family with decency, and maintain a wife with honour. When our author was in this forlornmiserable state, he writ a letter to his wife, which Mr. Winstanly haspreferred, and which, as it has somewhat tender in it I shall insert. It has often been observed, that half the unhappy marriages in theworld, are more owing to the men than the women; That women are ingeneral much better beings, in the moral sense, than the men; who, as they bustle less in life, are generally unacquainted with thoseartifices and tricks, which are acquired by a knowledge of the world;and that then their yoke-fellows need only be tender and indulgent, towin them. But I believe it may be generally allowed, that women arethe best or worst part of the human creation: none excel them invirtue; but when they depart from it, none exceed them in vice. In thecase of Green, we shall see by the letter he sent his wife how muchshe was injured. 

 "The remembrance of many wrongs offered thee, and thy unreproved virtues, add greater sorrow to my miserable state than I can utter, or thou conceive; neither is it lessened by consideration of thy absence, (tho' shame would let me hardly behold thy face) but exceedingly aggravated, for that I cannot as I ought to thy ownself reconcile myself, that thou might'st witness my inward woe at this instant, that hath made thee a woful wife for so long a time. But equal heaven has denied that comfort, giving at my last need, like succour as I have sought all my life, being in this extremity as void of help, as thou hast been of hope. Reason would that after so long waste, I should not send thee a child to bring thee charge; but consider he is the fruit of thy womb, in whose face regard not the father, so much as thy own perfections: He is yet green, and may grow strait, if he be carefully tended, otherwise apt enough to follow his father's folly. That I have offended thee highly, I know; that thou canst forget my injuries, I hardly believe; yet I perswade myself, that if thou sawest my wretched estate, thou couldst not but lament it, nay certainly I know, thou wouldst. All thy wrongs muster themselves about me, and every evil at once plagues me; for my contempt of God, I am contemned of men; for my swearing and forswearing, no man will believe me; for my gluttony, I suffer hunger; for my drunkenness, thirst; for my adultery, ulcerous sores. Thus God hath cast me down that I might be humbled, and punished for example of others; and though he suffers me in this world to perish without succour, yet I trust in the world to come, to find mercy by the merits of my Saviour, to whom I commend thee, and commit my soul. "

 Thy repentant husband, for his disloyalty, ROBERT GREEN. 

This author's works are chiefly these, The Honourable History of Fryar Bacon, and Fryar Bungy; play'd by thePrince of Palatine's servants. I know not whence our author borrowedhis plot, but this famous fryar Minor lived in the reign of Henry III. And died in the reign of Edward I. In the year 1284. He joined withDr. Lodge in one play, called a Looking Glass for London; he writ alsothe Comedies of Fryar Bacon and Fair Enome. His other pieces are, Quipfor an upstart Courtier, and Dorastus and Fawnia. Winstanley imputeslikewise to him the following pieces. Tully's Loves; Philomela, theLady Fitzwater's Nightingale; Green's News too Late, first and secondpart; Green's Arcadia; Green's Farewel to Folly; Green's Groatsworthof Wit. 

It is said by Wood in his Fasti, p. 137, vol. I. That our author diedin the year 1592, of a surfeit taken by eating pickled herrings, anddrinking with them rhenish wine. At this fatal banquet, Thomas Nash, his cotemporary at Cambridge was with him, who rallies him in hisApology of Pierce Pennyless. Thus died Robert Green, whose end maybe looked upon as a kind of punishment for a life spent in riot andinfamy. 

 * * * * *

EDMUND SPENSER

was born in London, and educated at Pembroke Hall in Cambridge. Theaccounts of the birth and family of this great man are but obscure andimperfect, and at his first setting out into life, his fortune andinterest seem to have been very inconsiderable. 

After he had for some time continued at the college, and laid thatfoundation of learning, which, joined to his natural genius, qualifiedhim to rise to so great an excellency, he stood for a fellowship, in competition with Mr. Andrews, a gentleman in holy orders, andafterwards lord bishop of Winchester, in which he was unsuccessful. This disappointment, joined with the narrowness of his circumstances, forced him to quit the university [1]; and we find him next residingat the house of a friend in the North, where he fell in love with hisRosalind, whom he finely celebrates in his pastoral poems, and ofwhose cruelty he has written such pathetical complaints. 

It is probable that about this time Spenser's genius began first todistinguish itself; for the Shepherd's Calendar, which is so full ofhis unprosperous passion for Rosalind, was amongst the first ofhis works of note, and the supposition is strengthened, by theconsideration of Poetry's being frequently the offspring of loveand retirement. This work he addressed by a short dedication to theMæcenas of his age, the immortal Sir Philip Sidney. This gentleman wasnow in the highest reputation, both for wit and gallantry, and themost popular of all the courtiers of his age, and as he was himself awriter, and especially excelled in the fabulous or inventive part ofpoetry; it is no wonder he was struck with our author's genius, andbecame sensible of his merit. A story is told of him by Mr. Hughes, which I shall present the reader, as it serves to illustrate the greatworth and penetration of Sidney, as well as the excellent genius ofSpenser. It is said that our poet was a stranger to this gentleman, when he began to write his Fairy Queen, and that he took occasion togo to Leicester-house, and introduce himself by sending in to Mr. Sidney a copy of the ninth Canto of the first book of that poem. Sidney was much surprized with the description of despair in thatCanto, and is said to have shewn an unusual kind of transport on thediscovery of so new and uncommon a genius. After he had read somestanza's, he turned to his steward, and bid him give the person thatbrought those verses fifty pounds; but upon reading the next stanza, he ordered the sum to be doubled. The steward was no less surprizedthan his master, and thought it his duty to make some delay inexecuting so sudden and lavish a bounty; but upon reading one stanzastanza more, Mr. Sidney raised the gratuity to two hundred pounds, andcommanded the steward to give it immediately, lest as he read furtherhe might be tempted to give away his whole estate. From this time headmitted the author to his acquaintance and conversation, and preparedthe way for his being known and received at court. 

Tho' this seemed a promising omen, to be thus introduced to court, yethe did not instantly reap any advantage from it. He was indeed createdpoet laureat to Queen Elizabeth, but he for some time wore a barrenlaurel, and possessed only the place without the pension [2]. Lordtreasurer Burleigh, under whose displeasure Spenser laboured, tookcare to intercept the Queen's favours to this unhappy great man. Asmisfortunes have the most influence on elegant and polished minds, soit was no wonder that Spenser was much depressed by the cold receptionhe met with from the great; a circumstance which not a little detractsfrom the merit of the ministers then in power: for I know not ifall the political transactions of Burleigh, are sufficient tocounterballance the infamy affixed on his name, by prosecutingresentment against distressed merit, and keeping him who was theornament of the times, as much distant as possible from the approachof competence. These discouragements greatly sunk our author's spirit, and accordingly we find him pouring out his heart, in complaints of soinjurious and undeserved a treatment; which probably, would have beenless unfortunate to him, if his noble patron Sir Philip Sidney had notbeen so much absent from court, as by his employments abroad, and theshare he had in the Low-Country wars, he was obliged to be. In a poemcalled, The Ruins of Time, which was written some time after Sidney'sdeath, the author seems to allude to the discouragement I havementioned in the following stanza. 

 O grief of griefs, O gall of all good hearts! To see that virtue should despised be, Of such as first were raised for virtue's parts, And now broad-spreading like an aged tree, Let none shoot up that nigh them planted be; O let not these, of whom the muse is scorned, Alive or dead be by the muse adorned. 

These lines are certainly meant to reflect on Burleigh for neglectinghim, and the Lord Treasurer afterwards conceived a hatred towards himfor the satire he apprehended was levelled at him in Mother Hubbard'sTale. In this poem, the author has in the most lively manner, paintedout the misfortune of depending on court favours. The lines whichfollow are among others very remarkable. 

 Full little knowest thou, that hast not try'd, What Hell it is in suing long to bide, To dole good days, that nights be better spent, To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to day, to be put back to-morrow, To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers, To have thy asking, yet wait many years. To fret thy soul with crosses, and with care. To eat thy heart, thro' comfortless despair; To fawn, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to run To spend, to give, to want, to be undone. 

As this was very much the author's case, it probably was theparticular passage in that poem which gave offence; for as Hughes veryelegantly observes, even the sighs of a miserable man, are sometimesresented as an affront, by him who is the occasion of them. There is alittle story, which seems founded on the grievance just now mentioned, and is related by some as a matter of fact [3] commonly reported atthat time. It is said, that upon his presenting some poems to theQueen, she ordered him a gratuity of one hundred pounds, but the LordTreasurer Burleigh objecting to it, said with some scorn of the poet, of whose merit he was totally ignorant, "What, all this for a song?"The queen replied, "Then give him what is reason. " Spenser for sometime waited, but had the mortification to find himself disappointedof her Majesty's bounty. Upon this he took a proper opportunity topresent a paper to Queen Elizabeth in the manner of a petition, inwhich he reminded her of the order she had given, in the followinglines. 

 I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhime, From that time, unto this season I received nor rhime, nor reason. 

This paper produced the intended effect, and the Queen, after sharplyreproving the treasurer, immediately directed the payment of thehundred pounds the had first ordered. In the year 1579 he was sentabroad by the Earl of Leicester, as appears by a copy of Latin versesdated from Leicester-house, and addressed to his friend Mr. Harvey;but Mr. Hughes has not been able to determine in what service we wasemployed. When the Lord Grey of Wilton was chosen Deputy of Ireland, Spenser was recommended to him as secretary. This drew him over toanother kingdom, and settled him in a scene of life very differentfrom what he had formerly known; but, that he understood, anddischarged his employment with skill and capacity, appearssufficiently by his discourse on the state of Ireland, in which thereare many solid and judicious remarks, that shew him no less qualifiedfor the business of the state, than for the entertainment of themuses. His life was now freed from the difficulties under which it hadhitherto struggled, and his services to the Crown received a reward ofa grant from Queen Elizabeth of 3000 Acres of land in the county ofCork. His house was in Kilcolman, and the river Mulla, which he hasmore than once so finely introduced in his poems, ran through hisgrounds. Much about this time, he contracted an intimate friendshipwith the great and learned Sir Walter Raleigh, who was then a captainunder the lord Grey. The poem of Spenser's, called Colin Clouts comehome again, in which Sir Walter Raleigh is described under the name ofthe Shepherd of the Ocean, is a beautiful memorial of this friendship, which took its rise from a similarity of taste in the polite arts, andwhich he agreeably describes with a softness and delicacy peculiar tohim. Sir Walter afterwards promoted him in Queen Elizabeth's esteem, thro' whose recommendation she read his writings. He now fell in lovea second time with a merchant's daughter, in which, says Mrs. Cooper, author of the muses library, he was more successful than in his firstamour. He wrote upon this occasion a beautiful epithalamium, withwhich he presented the lady on the bridal-day, and has consigned thatday, and her, to immortality. In this pleasant easy situation ourexcellent poet finished the celebrated poem of The Fairy Queen, whichwas begun and continued at different intervals of time, and of whichhe at first published only the three first books; to these were addedthree more in a following edition, but the six last books (exceptingthe two canto's of mutability) were unfortunately lost by his servantwhom he had in haste sent before him into England; for tho' he passedhis life for some time very serenely here, yet a train of misfortunesstill pursued him, and in the rebellion of the Earl of Desmond he wasplundered and deprived of his estate. This distress forced him toreturn to England, where for want of his noble patron Sir PhilipSidney, he was plunged into new calamities, as that gallant Hero diedof the wounds he received at Zutphen. It is said by Mr. Hughes, thatSpenser survived his patron about twelve years, and died the same yearwith his powerful enemy the Lord Burleigh, 1598. He was buried, sayshe, in Westminster-Abbey, near the famous Geoffery Chaucer, as he haddesired; his obsequies were attended by the poets of that time, andothers, who paid the last honours to his memory. Several copies ofverses were thrown after him into his grave, and his monument waserected at the charge of the famous Robert Devereux, the unfortunateEarl of Essex. This is the account given by his editor, of the deathof Spenser, but there is some reason to believe that he spoke onlyupon imagination, as he has produced no authority to support hisopinion, especially as I find in a book of great reputation, anotheropinion, delivered upon probable grounds. The ingenious Mr. Drummond of Hawthronden, a noble wit of Scotland, had an intimatecorrespondence with all the genius's of his time who resided atLondon, particularly the famous Ben Johnson, who had so high anopinion of Mr. Drummond's abilities, that he took a journey intoScotland in order to converse with him, and stayed some time at hishouse at Hawthronden. After Ben Johnson departed, Mr. Drummond, careful to retain what past betwixt them, wrote down the heads oftheir conversation; which is published amongst his poems and historyof the five James's Kings of Scotland. Amongst other particulars thereis this. "Ben Johnson told me that Spenser's goods were robbed by theIrish in Desmond's rebellion, his house and a little child of hisburnt, and he and his wife nearly escaped; that he afterwards died inKing-street [4] by absolute want of bread; and that he refused twentypieces sent him by the Earl of Essex [5], and gave this answer to theperson who brought them, that he was sure he had no time to spendthem. "

Mr. Drummond's works, from whence I have extracted the above, areprinted in a thin quarto, and may be seen at Mr. Wilson's at Plato'sHead in the Strand. I have been thus particular in the quotation, thatno one may suspect such extraordinary circumstances to be advancedupon imagination. In the inscription on his tomb in Westminster Abbey, it is said he was born in the year 1510, and died 1596; Cambden says1598, but in regard to his birth they must both be mistaken, for it isby no means probable he was born so early as 1510, if we judge bythe remarkable circumstance of his standing for a fellowship incompetition with Mr. Andrews, who was not born according to Hughestill 1555. Besides, if this account of his birth be true, he must havebeen sixty years old when he first published his Shepherd's Calendar, an age not very proper for love; and in this case it is no wonder, that the beautiful Rosalind slighted his addresses; and he must havebeen seventy years old when he entered into business under lord Grey, who was created deputy in Ireland 1580: for which reasons we mayfairly conclude, that the inscription is false, either by the error ofthe carver, or perhaps it was put on when the monument was repaired. 

There are very few particulars of this great poet, and it must be amortification to all lovers of the Muses, that no more can be foundconcerning the life of one who was the greatest ornament of hisprofession. No writer ever found a nearer way to the heart than he, and his verses have a peculiar happiness of recommending the author toour friendship as well as raising our admiration; one cannot readhim without fancying oneself transported into Fairy Land, and thereconversing with the Graces, in that enchanted region: In elegance ofthinking and fertility of imagination, few of our English authors haveapproached him, and no writers have such power as he to awake thespirit of poetry in others. Cowley owns that he derived inspirationfrom him; and I have heard the celebrated Mr. James Thomson, theauthor of the Seasons, and justly esteemed one of our best descriptivepoets, say, that he formed himself upon Spenser; and how closely hepursued the model, and how nobly he has imitated him, whoever readshis Castle of Indolence with taste, will readily confess. 

Mr. Addison, in his characters of the English Poets, addressed to Mr. Sacheverel, thus speaks of Spenser:

 Old Spenser next, warm'd with poetic rage, In ancient tales amus'd a barb'rous age; An age, that yet uncultivate and rude, Where-e'er the poet's fancy led, pursued Thro' pathless fields, and unfrequented floods, To dens of dragons, and enchanted woods. But now the mystic tale, that pleas'd of yore, Can charm an understanding age no more; The long spun allegories, fulsome grow, While the dull moral lyes too plain below. We view well pleased at distance, all the sights, Of arms, and palfries, battles, fields, and fights, And damsels in distress, and courteous knights. But when we look too near, the shades decay, And all the pleasing landscape fades away. 

It is agreed on all hands, that the distresses of our author helpedto shorten his days, and indeed, when his extraordinary merit isconsidered, he had the hardest measure of any of our poets. It appearsfrom different accounts, that he was of an amiable sweet disposition, humane and generous in his nature. Besides the Fairy Queen, we find hehad written several other pieces, of which we can only trace out thetitles. Among these, the most considerable were nine comedies, inimitation of the comedies of his admired Ariosto, inscribed with thenames of the Nine Muses. The rest which are mentioned in his letters, and those of his friends, are his Dying Pelicane, his Pageants, Stemmata Dudleyana, the Canticles paraphrazed, Ecclesiastes, SevenPsalms, Hours of our Lord, Sacrifice of a Sinner, Purgatory, aS'ennight Slumber, the Court of Cupid, and Hell of Lovers. It islikewise said, he had written a treatise in prose called the EnglishPoet: as for the Epithalamion Thamesis, and his Dreams, both mentionedby himself in one of his letters, Mr. Hughes thinks they are stillpreserved, tho' under different names. It appears from what is said ofthe Dreams by his friend Mr. Harvey, that they were in imitation ofPetrarch's Visions. 

To produce authorities in favour of Spenser, as a poet. I shouldreckon an affront to his memory; that is a tribute which I shall onlypay to inferior wits, whose highest honour it is to be mentioned withrespect, by genius's of a superior class. The works of Spenser willnever perish, tho' he has introduced unnecessarily many obsolete termsinto them; there is a flow of poetry, an elegance of sentiment, a fundof imagination, and an enchanting enthusiasm which will ever securehim the applauses of posterity while any lovers of poetry remain. 

We find little account of the family which Spenser left behind him, only that in a few particulars of his life prefixed to the last folioedition of his works, it is said that his great grandson HugolinSpenser, after the restoration of king Charles II. Was restored by thecourt of claims to so much of the lands as could be found to have beenhis ancestors; there is another remarkable passage of which (saysHughes) I can give the reader much better assurance: that a personcame over from Ireland, in King William's time, to sollicit the sameaffair, and brought with him letters of recommendation, as a defendantof Spenser. His name procured him a favourable reception, andhe applied himself particularly to Mr. Congreve, by whom he wasgenerously recommended to the favour of the earl of Hallifax, who wasthen at the head of the treasury; and by that means he obtained hissuit. This man was somewhat advanced in years, and might be the samementioned before, who had possibly recovered only some part of hisestate at first, or had been disturbed in the possession of it. Hecould give no account of the works of his ancestor, which are wanting, and which are therefore in all probability irrecoverably lost. 

The following stanzas are said to be those with which Sir PhilipSidney was first struck. 

 From him returning, sad and comfortless, As on the way together we did fare, We met that villain (God from him me bless) That cursed wight, from whom I 'scaped whylear, A man of hell that calls himself despair; Who first us greets, and after fair areeds Of tidings strange, and of adventures rare: So creeping close, as snake in hidden weeds, Inquireth of our states, and of our Knight'y deeds. 

 Which when he knew, and felt our feeble hearts Emboss'd with bale, and bitter-biting grief, Which love had launced with his deadly darts, With wounding words, and terms of foul reprief, He plucked from us all hope of due relief; That erst us held in love of ling'ring life; Then hopeless, heartless, 'gan the cunning thief Persuade us die, to stint all further strife: To me he lent this rope, to him a rusty knife. 

The following is the picture. 

 The darksome cave they enter, where they find, That cursed man, low sitting on the ground, Musing full sadly in his sullen mind; His greasy locks, long growing and unbound, Disordered hung about his shoulders round, And hid his face; through which his hollow eyne, Look'd deadly dull, and stared as astound; His raw bone cheeks thro' penury and pine, Were shrunk into his jaws, as he did never dine, His garments nought, but many ragged clouts, With thorns together pinn'd and patched was, The which his naked sides he wrapt abouts; And him beside, there lay upon the grass A dreary corse, whose life away did pass, All wallowed in his own, yet luke-warm blood, That from his wound yet welled fresh alas; In which a rusty knife fast fixed stood, And made an open passage for the gushing flood. 

It would perhaps be an injury to Spenser to dismiss his Life without afew remarks on that great work of his which has placed him amongthe foremost of our poets, and discovered so elevated and sublime agenius. The work I mean is his allegorical poem of the Fairy Queen. 

Sir William Temple in his essay on poetry, says, "that the religion ofthe Gentiles had been woven into the contexture of all the ancientpoetry with an agreeable mixture, which made the moderns affect togive that of christianity a place also in their poems; but the truereligion was not found to become fictitious so well as the false onehad done, and all their attempts of this kind seemed, rather to debasereligion than heighten poetry. Spenser endeavoured to supply this withmorality, and to make instruction, instead of story the subject of anepic poem. His execution was excellent, and his flights of fancy verynoble and high. But his design was poor; and his moral lay so bare, that it lost the effect. It is true, the pill was gilded, but so thinthat the colour and the taste were easily discovered. --Mr. Rymerasserts, that Spenser may be reckoned the first of our heroic poets. He had a large spirit, a sharp judgment, and a genius for heroicpoetry, perhaps above any that ever wrote since Virgil, but ourmisfortune is, he wanted a true idea, and lost himself by following anunfaithful guide. Tho' besides Homer and Virgil he had read Tasso, yethe rather suffered himself to be misled by Ariosto, with whom blindlyrambling on marvels and adventures, he makes no conscience ofprobability; all is fanciful and chimerical, without any uniformity, or without any foundation in truth; in a word his poem is perfectFairy-Land. Thus far Sir William Temple, and Mr. Rymer; let us nowattend to the opinion of a greater name. Mr. Dryden in his dedicationof Juvenal, thus proceeds: The English have only to boast of Spenserand Milton in heroic poetry, who neither of them wanted either geniusor learning to have been perfect poets, and yet both of them areliable to many censures; for there is no uniformity in the design ofSpenser; he aims at the accomplishment of no one action; he raises upa hero for every one of his adventures, and endows each of them withsome particular moral virtue, which renders them all equal, withoutsubordination or preference: Every one is valiant in his own legend;only we must do him the justice to observe, that magnanimity, which isthe character of prince Arthur, shines throughout the whole poem, andsuccours the rest when they are in distress. The original of everyknight was then living in the court of Queen Elizabeth; and heattributed to each of them that virtue which he thought was mostconspicuous in them; an ingenious piece of flattery, tho' it turnednot much to his account. Had he lived to finish his poem in theremaining legends, it had certainly been more of a piece; but couldnot have been perfect because the model was not true. But princeArthur, or his chief patron Sir Philip Sidney, dying before him, deprived the poet both of means and spirit to accomplish his design. For the rest, his obsolete language, and ill choice of his stanza, arefaults both of the second magnitude; for notwithstanding the first, heis still intelligible, at least after a little practice, and forthe last he is more to be admired, that labouring under suchdisadvantages, his verses are so numerous, so various, and soharmonious, that only Virgil, whom he has professedly imitated, hassurpassed him among the Romans, and only Waller among the English. "

Mr. Hughes in his essay on allegorical poetry prefixed to Spenser'sworks, tells us, that this poem is conceived, wrought up, and colouredwith stronger fancy, and discovers more the particular genius ofSpenser, than any of his other writings; and having observed thatSpenser in a letter to Sir Walter Raleigh calls it, a continuedallegory, or dark conceit, he gives us some remarks on allegoricalpoetry in general, defining allegory to be a fable or story, in which, under imaginary persons or things, is shadowed some real action orinstructive moral, or as I think, says he, it is somewhere veryshortly defined by. Plutarch; it is that, in which one thing is, related, and another thing understood; it is a kind of poeticalpicture, or hieroglyphick, which by its apt resemblance, conveysinstruction to the mind, by an analogy to the senses, and so amusesthe fancy while it informs the understanding. Every allegory hastherefore two senses, the literal and mystical, the literal senseis like a dream or vision, of which the mystical sense is the truemeaning, or interpretation. This will be more clearly apprehendedby considering, that as a simile is a more extended metaphor, soan allegory is a kind of continued simile, or an assemblage ofsimilitudes drawn out at full length. 

The chief merit of this poem, no doubt, consists in that surprisingvein of fabulous invention, which runs through it, and enriches itevery where with imagery and descriptions, more than we meet with inany other modern poem. The author seems to be possessed of a kind ofpoetical magic, and the figures he calls up to our view rise sothick upon us, that we are at once pleased and distracted with theexhaustless variety of them; so that his faults may in a manner beimputed to his excellencies. His abundance betrays him into excess, and his judgment is over-born by the torrent of his imagination. Thatwhich seems the most liable to exception in this work is the model ofit, and the choice the author has made of so romantic a story. Theseveral books rather appear like so many several poems, than oneentire fable. Each of them has its peculiar knight, and is independentof the rest; and tho' some of the persons make their appearance indifferent books, yet this has very little effect in concealing them. Prince Arthur is indeed the principal person, and has therefore ashare given him in every legend; but his part is not considerableenough in any one of them. He appears and vanishes again like aspirit, and we lose sight of him too soon to consider him as the heroof the poem. These are the most obvious defects in the fable of theFairy Queen. The want of unity in the story makes it difficult for thereader to carry it in his mind, and distracts too much his attentionto the several parts of it; and indeed the whole frame of it wouldappear monstrous, were it to be examined by the rules of epic poetry, as they have been drawn from the practice of Homer and Virgil; but asit is plain, the author never designed it by these rules, I think itought rather to be called a poem of a particular kind, describing in aseries of allegorical adventures, or episodes, the most noted virtuesand vices. To compare it therefore with the models of antiquity, wouldbe like drawing a parallel between the Roman and Gothic architecture. In the first, there is doubtless a more natural grandeur andsimplicity; in the latter, we find great mixtures of beauty andbarbarism, yet assisted by the invention of a variety of inferiorornaments; and tho' the former is more majestic in the whole, thelatter may be very surprizing and agreeable in its parts. 

[Footnote 1: Hughes's Life of Spencer, prefixed to the edition of ourauthor's works. ]

[Footnote 2: Hughes ubi supra, ]

[Footnote 3: Winst. P. 88. ]

[Footnote 4: Dublin]

[Footnote 5: The General of the English army in Ireland. ]

 * * * * *

JASPER HEYWOOD, the son of the celebrated epigramatist, was born in London, and in the12th year of his age, 1517, was sent to the University, where he waseducated in grammar and logic. In 1553 he took a degree in Arts, andwas immediately elected Probationer fellow of Merton College, where hegained a superiority over all his fellow students in disputations atthe public school. Wood informs us, that upon a third admonition, fromthe warden and society of that house, he resigned his fellowship, toprevent expulsion, on the 4th of April, 1558; he had been guilty ofseveral misdemeanors, such as are peculiar to youth, wildness andrakishness, which in those days it seems were very severely punished. Soon after this he quitted England, and entered himself into thesociety of Jesus at St. Omer's [1]; but before he left his nativecountry, he writ and translated (says Wood), these things following. 

Various Poems and Devices; some of which are printed in a book calledthe Paradise of Dainty Devices, 1574, 4to. 

Hercules Furens, a Tragedy, which some have imputed to Seneca, andothers have denied to be his, but it is thought by most learned men tobe an imitation of that play of Euripides, which bears the same name, and tho, in contrivance and economy, they differ in some things, yetin others they agree, and Scaliger scruples not to prefer the Latin tothe Greek Tragedy [2]. 

Troas, a Tragedy of Seneca's, which the learned Farnaby, and DanielHeinsius very much commend; the former stiling it a divine tragedy, the other preferring it to one of the same name by Euripides, both inlanguage and contrivance, but especially he says it far exceeds it inthe chorus. In this tragedy the author has taken the liberty of addingseveral things, and altering others, as thinking the play imperfect:First as to the additions, he has at the end of the chorus afterthe first act, added threescore verses of his own invention: In thebeginning of the second act he has added a whole scene, where heintroduces the ghost of Achilles rising from hell, to require thesacrifice of Polyxena! to the chorus of this act he added threestanza's. As to his alterations, instead of translating the chorusof the third act, which is wholly taken up with the names of foreigncountries, the translation of which without notes he thought wouldbe tiresome to the English reader, he has substituted in its steadanother chorus of his own invention. This tragedy runs in verses offourteen syllables, and for the most part his chorus is writ in verseof ten syllables, which is called heroic. 

Thyestes, another tragedy of Seneca's, which in the judgment ofHiensius, is not inferior to any other of his dramatic pieces. Ourauthor translated this play when he was at Oxford; it is wrote inthe same manner of verse as the other, only the chorus is written inalternate rhime. The translator has added a scene at the end of thefifth act, spoken by Thyestes alone; in which he bewails his misery, and implores Heaven's vengeance on Atreus. These plays are printed ina black letter in 4to. 1581. 

Langbain observes, that tho' he cannot much commend the version ofHeywood, as poetically elegant, as he has chosen a measure of fourteensyllables, which ever sounds harsh to the ears of those that are usedto heroic poetry, yet, says he, I must do the author this justice, toacquaint the world, that he endeavours to give Seneca's sense, andlikewise to imitate his verse, changing his measure, as often as hisauthor, the chorus of each act being different from the act itself, asthe reader may observe, by comparing the English copy with the Latinoriginal. 

After our author had spent two years in the study of divinity amongstthe priests, he was sent to Diling in Switzerland, where he continuedabout seventeen years, in explaining and discussing controvertedquestions, among those he called Heretics, in which time, for his zealfor the holy mother, he was promoted to the degree of Dr. Of Divinity, and of the Four Vows. At length pope Gregory XIII. Calling him awayin 1581, he sent him, with others, the same year into the mission ofEngland, and the rather because the brethren there told his holiness, that the harvest was great, and the labourers few [3]. Being settledthen in the metropolis of his own country, and esteemed the chiefprovincial of the Jesuits in England, it was taken notice of, thathe affected more the exterior shew of a lord, than the humility of apriest, keeping as grand an equipage, as money could then furnish himwith. Dr. Fuller says, that our author was executed in the reign ofQueen Elizabeth; but Sir Richard Baker tells us, that he was one ofthe chief of those 70 priests that were taken in the year 1585; andwhen some of them were condemned, and the rest in danger of the law, her Majesty caused them all to be shipp'd away, and sent out ofEngland. Upon Heywood's being taken and committed to prison, and theearl of Warwick thereupon ready to relieve his necessity, he made acopy of verses, mentioned by Sir John Harrington, concluding withthese two;

 ----Thanks to that lord, that wills me good; For I want all things, saving hay and wood. 

He afterwards went to Rome, and at last settled in the city of Naples, where he became familiarly known to that zealous Roman Catholick, JohnPitceus, who speaks of him with great respect. 

It is unknown what he wrote or published after he became a Jesuit. Itis said that he was a great critic in the Hebrew language, and that hedigested an easy and short method, (reduced into tables) for novicesto learn that language, which Wood supposes was a compendium of aHebrew grammar. Our author paid the common debt of nature at Naples, 1598, and was buried in the college of Jesuits there. 

[Footnote 1: Langb. Lives of the Poets, p. 249. ]

[Footnote 2: Langb. Ubi supra. ]

[Footnote 3: Athen. Oxon. ]

 * * * * *

JOHN LILLY, A writer who flourished in the reign of Queen Elizabeth; he was aKentish man, and in his younger years educated at St. Mary MagdalenCollege in Oxon, where in the year 1575 he took his degree of Masterof Arts. He was, says Langbaine, a very close student, and muchaddicted to poetry; a proof of which he has given to the world, inthose plays which he has bequeathed to posterity, and which in thatage were well esteemed, both by the court, and by the university. Hewas one of the first writers, continues Langbain, who in thosedays attempted to reform the language, and purge it from obsoleteexpressions. Mr. Blount, a gentleman who has made himself known to theworld, by several pieces of his own writing (as Horæ Subsecivæ, hisMicrocosmography, &c. ) and who published six of these plays, in histitle page stiles him, the only rare poet of that time, the witty, comical, facetiously quick, and unparallell'd John Lilly. Mr. Blountfurther says, 'That he sat 'at Apollo's table; that Apollo gave him awreath of his own bays without snatching; and that the Lyre he playedon, had no borrowed strings:' He mentions a romance of our author'swriting, called Euphues; our nation, says he, are in his debt, for anew English which he taught them; Euphues, and his England began firstthat language, and all our ladies were then his scholars, and thatbeauty in court who could not read Euphism, was as little regarded, as she who now speaks not French. This extraordinary Romance Iacknowledge I have not read, so cannot from myself give it acharacter, but I have some reason to believe, that it was a miserableperformance, from the authority of the author of the British Theatre, who in his preface thus speaks of it; "This Romance, says he, sofashionable for its wit; so famous in the court of Queen Elizabeth, and is said to have introduced so remarkable a change in our language, I have seen and read. It is an unnatural affected jargon, in which theperpetual use of metaphors, allusions, allegories, and analogies, is to pass for wit, and stiff bombast for language; and with thisnonsense the court of Queen Elizabeth (whose times afforded bettermodels for stile and composition, than almost any since) becamemiserably infected, and greatly help'd to let in all the vile pedantryof language in the two following reigns; so much mischief the mostridiculous instrument may do, when he proposes to improve on thesimplicity of nature. "

Mr. Lilly has writ the following dramatic pieces;

Alexander and Campaspe, a tragical comedy; play'd before the Queen'sMajesty on twelfth-night, by her Majesty's children, and the childrenof St. Paul's, and afterwards at the Black Fryars; printed in 12mo. London, 1632. The story of Alexander's bestowing Campaspe, in theenamoured Apelles, is related by Pliny in his Natural History. Lib. Xxxv. L. X. 

Endymion, a Comedy, presented before Queen Elizabeth, by the childrenof her Majesty's chaple, printed in 12mo. 1632. The story ofEndymion's being beloved by the moon, with comments upon it, may bemet with in most of the Mythologists. See Lucian's Dialogues, betweenVenus and the Moon. Mr. Gambauld has writ a romance called Endymion, translated into English, 8vo. 1639. 

Galathea, a Comedy, played before the Queen at Greenwich on New year'sday, at night, by the children of St. Paul's, printed in 12mo. London, 1632. In the characters of Galathea and Philidia, the poet has copiedthe story of Iphis and Ianthe, which the reader may find at large inthe ninth book of Ovid's Metamorphosis. 

Maid's Metamorphosis, a Comedy, acted by the children of St. Paul's, printed in 12mo. 1632. 

Mydas, a Comedy, played before the Queen on Twelfth-night, printedin 12mo. London, 1632. For the story, see the xith book of Ovid'sMetamorphosis. 

Sappho and Phaon, a Comedy, played before the queen on Shrove-Tuesday, by the children of Paul's, and afterwards at Black-Fryars, printedin Twelves, London 1632. This story the reader may learn from Ovid'sEpistles, of Sappho to Phaon, Ep. 21. 

Woman in the Moon, presented before the Queen, London 1667. Six ofthese plays, viz. Alexander and Campaspe, Endymion, Galathea andMydas, Sappho and Phaon, with Mother Bombie, a Comedy, by thesame author, are printed together under the title of the SixCourt-Comedies, 12mo, London 1632, and dedicated by Mr. Blount, to thelord viscount Lumly of Waterford; the other two are printed singlyin Quarto. ----He also wrote Loves Metamorphosis, a courtly pastoral, printed 1601. 

 * * * * *

Sir THOMAS OVERBURY

Was son of Nicholas Overbury, Esq; of Burton in Gloucestershire, oneof the Judges of the Marches[1]. He was born with very bright parts, and gave early discoveries of a rising genius. In 1595, the 14th yearof his age, he became a gentleman commoner in Queen's-College inOxford, and in 1598, as a 'squire's son, he took the degree ofbatchelor of arts; he removed from thence to the Middle-Temple, inorder to study the municipal law, but did not long remain there[2]. His genius, which was of a sprightly kind, could not bear theconfinement of a student, or the drudgery of reading law; he abandonedit therefore, and travelled into France, where he so improved himselfin polite accomplishments, that when he returned he was looked upon asone of the most finished gentlemen about court. 

Soon after his arrival in England, he contracted an intimacy, whichafterwards grew into friendship with Sir Robert Carre, a Scotchgentleman, a favourite with king James, and afterwards earl ofSomerset. Such was the warmth of friendship in which these twogentlemen lived, that they were inseparable. Carre could enter into noscheme, nor pursue any measures, without the advice and concurrence ofOverbury, nor could Overbury enjoy any felicity but in the company ofhim he loved; their friendship was the subject of court-conversation, and their genius seemed so much alike, that it was reasonable tosuppose no breach could ever be produced between them; but such itseems is the power of woman, such the influence of beauty, that eventhe sacred ties of friendship are broke asunder by the magic energy ofthese superior charms. Carre fell in love with lady Frances Howard, daughter to the Earl of Suffolk, and lately divorced from the Earlof Essex[3]. He communicated his passion to his friend, who was toopenetrating not to know that no man could live with much comfort, witha woman of the Countess's stamp, of whose morals he had a bad opinion;he insinuated to Carre some suspicions, and those well founded, against her honour; he dissuaded him with all the warmth of thesincerest friendship, to desist from a match that would involve him inmisery, and not to suffer his passion for her beauty to have so muchsway over him, as to make him sacrifice his peace to its indulgence. 

Carre, who was desperately in love, forgetting the ties of honour aswell as friendship, communicated to the lady, what Overbury had saidof her, and they who have read the heart of woman, will be at no lossto conceive what reception she gave that unwelcome report. She knew, that Carre was immoderately attached to Overbury, that he was directedby his Council in all things, and devoted to his interest. 

 Earth has no curse like love to hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a fury like a woman scorn'd. 

This was literally verified in the case of the countess; she let looseall the rage of which she was capable against him, and as she pantedfor the consummation of the match between Carre and her, she soinfluenced the Viscount, that he began to conceive a hatred likewiseto Overbury; and while he was thus subdued by the charms of a wickedwoman, he seemed to change his nature, and from the gentle, easy, accessible, good-natured man he formerly appeared, he degenerated intothe sullen, vindictive, and implacable. One thing with respect to thecountess ought not to be omitted. She was wife of the famous Earl ofEssex, who afterwards headed the army of the parliament against theKing, and to whom the imputation of impotence was laid. The Countess, in order to procure a divorce from her husband, gave it out that tho'she had been for some time in a married state, she was yet a virgin, and which it seems sat very uneasy upon her. To prove this, a jury ofmatrons were to examine her and give their opinion, whether she was, or was not a Virgin: This scrutiny the Countess did not care toundergo, and therefore entreated the favour that she might entermasked to save her blushes; this was granted her, and she took careto have a young Lady provided, of much the same size and exteriorappearance, who personated her, and the jury asserted her to bean unviolated Virgin. This precaution in the Countess, no doubt, diminishes her character, and is a circumstance not favourable to herhonour; for if her husband had been really impotent as she pretended, she needed not have been afraid of the search; and it proves that sheeither injured her husband, by falsely aspersing him, or that she hadviolated her honour with other men. But which ever of these causesprevailed, had the Countess been wise enough, she had no occasion tofear the consequences of a scrutiny; for if I am rightly informed, ajury of old women can no more judge accurately whether a woman hasyielded her virginity, than they can by examining a dead body, knowof what distemper the deceased died; but be that as it may, the wholeaffair is unfavourable to her modesty; it shews her a woman ofirregular passions, which poor Sir Thomas Overbury dearlyexperienced; for even after the Countess was happy in the embracesof the Earl of Somerset, she could not forbear the persecution of him;she procured that Sir Thomas should be nominated by the King to goambassador to Russia, a destination she knew would displease him, itbeing then no better than a kind of honourable grave; she likewiseexcited Earl Somerset to seem again his friend, and to advise himstrongly to refuse the embassy, and at the fame time insinuate, thatif he should, it would only be lying a few weeks in the Tower, which toa man well provided in all the necessaries, as well as comforts ofLife, had no great terror in it. This expedient Sir Thomas embraced, and absolutely refused to go abroad; upon which, on the twenty-firstof April 1613, he was sent prisoner to the Tower, and put under thecare of Sir Gervis Yelvis, then lord lieutenant. The Countess being sofar successful, began now to conceive great hopes of compleating herscheme of assassination, and drew over the Earl of Somerset herhusband, to her party, and he who a few years before, had obtainedthe honour of knighthood for Overbury, was now so enraged againsthim, that he coincided in taking measures to murder his friend. SirGervis Yelvis, who obtained the lieutenancy by Somerset's interest, was a creature devoted to his pleasure. He was a needy man, totallydestitute of any principles of honour, and was easily prevailed uponto forward a scheme for destroying poor Overbury by poison. Accordingly they consulted with one Mrs. Turner, the first inventer(says Winstanley of that horrid garb of yellow ruffs and cuffs, and inwhich garb he was afterwards hanged) who having acquaintance withone James Franklin, a man who it seems was admirably fitted to bea Cut-throat, agreed with him to provide that which would not killpresently, but cause one to languish away by degrees. The lieutenantbeing engaged in the conspiracy, admits one Weston, Mrs. Turner'sman, who under pretence of waiting on Sir Thomas, was to do thehorrid deed. The plot being thus formed, and success promisingso fair, Franklin buys various poisons, White Arsenick, Mercury-Sublimate, Cantharides, Red-Mercury, with three or fourother deadly ingredients, which he delivered to Weston, withinstructions how to use them; who put them into his broth and meat, increasing and diminishing their strength according as he saw himaffected; besides these, the Countess sent him by way of present, poisoned tarts and jellies: but Overbury being of a strongconstitution, held long out against their influence: his body brokeout in blotches and blains, which occasioned the report industriouslypropagated by Somerset, of his having died of the French Disease. Atlast they produced his death by the application of a poisonedclyster, by which he next day in painful agonies expired. Thus(says Winstanley) "by the malice of a woman that worthy Knight wasmurthered, who yet still lives in that witty poem of his, entitled, AWife, as is well expressed by the verses under his picture. "

 A man's best fortune or his worst's a wife, Yet I, that knew no marriage, peace nor strife Live by a good one, by a bad one lost my life. 

Of all crimes which the heart of man conceives, as none is so enormousas murder, so it more frequently meets punishment in this life thanany other. This barbarous assassination was soon revealed; fornotwithstanding what the conspirators had given out, suspicions ranhigh that Sir Thomas was poisoned; upon which Weston was strictlyexamined by Lord Cook, who before his lordship persisted in denyingthe same; but the Bishop of London afterwards conversing with him, pressing the thing home to his conscience, and opening all the terrorsof another life to his mind, he was moved to confess the whole. Herelated how Mrs. Turner and the Countess became acquainted, anddiscovered all those who were any way concerned in it; upon which theywere all apprehended, and some sent to Newgate, and others to theTower. Having thus confessed, and being convicted according to duecourse of law, he was hanged at Tyburn, after him Mrs. Turner, afterher Franklin, then Sir Gervis Yelvis, being found guilty on theirseveral arraignments, were executed; some of them died penitent. TheEarl and the Countess were both condemned, but notwithstanding theirguilt being greater than any of the other criminals, the King, to theastonishment of all his subjects, forgave them, but they were bothforbid to appear at court. 

There was something strangely unaccountable in the behaviour ofSomerset after condemnation. When he was asked what he thought ofhis condition, and if he was preparing to die, he answered, that hethought not of it at all, for he was sure the King durst not commandhim to be executed. This ridiculous boasting and bidding defiance tohis majesty's power, was construed by some in a very odd manner; andthere were not wanting those who asserted, that Somerset was privyto a secret of the King's, which if it had been revealed, would haveproduced the strangest consternation in the kingdom that ever wasknown, and drawn down infamy upon his majesty for ever; but as nothingcan be ascertained concerning it, it might seem unfair to impute tothis silly Prince more faults than he perhaps committed: It is certainhe was the slave of his favourites, and not the most shocking crimein them, it seems, could entirely alienate his affections, and it isdoubtful whether the saving of Somerset or the execution of Raleighreflects most disgrace upon his reign. Some have said, that the bodyof Sir Thomas Overbury was thrown into an obscure pit; but Wood, saysit appears from the Tower registers, that it was interred in thechapel; which seems more probable. There is an epitaph whichWinstanley has preserved, written by our author upon himself, which Ishall here insert, as it serves to illustrate his versification. 

 The span of my days measured here I rest, That is, my body; but my soul, his guest Is hence ascended, whither, neither time, Nor faith, nor hope, but only love can climb, Where being new enlightened, she doth know The truth, of all men argue of below: Only this dust, doth here in pawn remain, That when the world dissolves, she come again. 

The works of Overbury besides his Wife, which is reckoned the wittiestand most finished of all, are, first Characters, or witty descriptionsof the prophesies of sundry persons. This piece has relation to somecharacters of his own time, which can afford little satisfaction to amodern reader. 

Second, The Remedy of Love in two parts, a poem 1620, Octavo, 2s. 

Third, Observations in his Travels, on the State. Of the seventeenProvinces, as they stood anno 1609. 

Fourth, Observations on the Provinces united, and the state of France, printed London 1631. 

Sir Thomas was about 32 years old when he was murthered, and is saidto have possessed an accuteness, and strength of parts that wasastonishing; and some have related that he was proud of his abilities, and over-bearing in company; but as there is no good authority for theassertion, it is more agreeable to candour to believe him the amiableknight Winstanley draws him; as it seldom happens that a soul formedfor the noble quality of friendship is haughty and insolent. There isa tragedy of Sir Thomas Overbury wrote by the late Richard Savage, sonof earl Rivers, which was acted in 1723, (by what was then usuallycalled The Summer Company) with success; of which we shall speak moreat large in the life of that unfortunate gentleman. 

[Footnote 1: Wood Athen. Oxon. ]

[Footnote 2: Winst. Ubi supra. ]

[Footnote 3: Winst. Ubi supra. ]

 * * * * *

JOHN MARSTEN. 

There are few things on record concerning this poet's life. Wood says, that he was a student in Corpus-Christi College, Oxon; but in whatcountry he was born, or of what family descended, is no where fixed. Mr. Langbain says, he can recover no other information of him, thanwhat he learned from the testimony of his bookseller, which is, "Thathe was free from all obscene speeches, which is the chief cause ofmaking plays odious to virtuous and modest persons; but he abhorredsuch writers and their works, and professed himself an enemy to allsuch as stuffed their scenes with ribaldry, and larded their lineswith scurrilous taunts, and jests, so that whatsoever even in thespring of his years he presented upon the private and public theatre, in his autumn and declining age he needed not to to be ashamed of. "He lived in friendship with the famous Ben Johnson, as appears by hisaddressing to his name a tragi-comedy, called Male-Content: but weafterwards find him reflecting pretty severely on Ben, on account ofhis Cataline and Sejanus, as the reader will find on the perusal ofMarsten's Epistle, prefixed to Sophonisba. --"Know, says he, that Ihave not laboured in this poem, to relate any thing as an historian, but to enlarge every thing as a poet. To transcribe authors, quoteauthorities, and to translate Latin prose orations into Englishblank verse, hath in this subject been the least aim of mystudies. "----Langbain observes, that none who are acquaintedwith the works of Johnson can doubt that he is meant here, if they will compare the orations in Salust with those in Cataline. Onwhat provocation Marsten thus censured his friend is unknown, but thepractice has been too frequently pursued, so true is it, as Mr. Gayobserves of the wits, that they are oft game cocks to one another, andsometimes verify the couplet. 

 That they are still prepared to praise or to abhor us, Satire they have, and panegyric for us. ----

Marsten has contributed eight plays to the stage, which were all actedat the Black Fryars with applause, and one of them called the DutchCourtezan, was once revived since the Restoration, under the title ofthe Revenge, or a Match in [1]Newgate. In the year 1633 six ofthis author's plays were collated and published in one volume, anddedicated to the lady viscountess Faulkland. His dramatic works arethese:

Antonio and Melida, a history, acted by the children of St. Paul's, printed in 1633. 

Antonius's Revenge; or the second part of Antonio and Melida. Thesetwo plays were printed in Octavo several years before the new edition. 

Dutch Courtezan, a comedy frequently played at Black Fryars, by thechildren of the Queen's Revels, printed in London 1633. It is takenfrom a French book called Les Contes du Mende. See the same story inEnglish, in a book of Novels, called the Palace of Pleasure in thelast Novel. 

Insatiate Countess, a Tragedy, acted at White-Fryars, printed inQuarto 1603, under the title of Isabella the insatiable countess ofSuevia. It is said that he meant Joan the first queen of Jerusalem, Naples, and Sicily. The life of this queen has employed many pens, both on poetry and novels. Bandello has related her story under thetitle of the Inordinate Life of the Countess of Celant. The like storyis related in God's Revenge against Adultery, under the name of Anneof Werdenberg, duchess of Ulme. 

Male Content, a Tragi Comedy, dedicated to old Ben, as I have alreadytaken notice, in which he heaps many fine epithets upon him. The firstdesign of this play was laid by Mr. Webster. 

Parasitaster; or the Fawn, a comedy, often presented at the BlackFryars, by the children of the queen's Revels, printed in Octavo 1633. This play was formerly printed in quarto, 1606. The Plot of Dulcimerscozening the Duke by a pretended discovery of Tiberco's love to her, is taken from Boccace's Novels. 

What you will, a comedy, printed Octavo, London, 1653. This is saidto be one of our author's best plays. The design taken from Plautus'sAmphitrion. 

Wonder of Women, or Sophonisba, a tragedy, acted at Black Fryars, printed in Octavo, 1633. The English reader will find this storydescribed by Sir Walter Raleigh, in his history of the world. B. 5. 

Besides his dramatic poetry he writ three books of Satires, entitled, The Scourge of Villany, printed in Octavo, London 1598. We have noaccount in what year our author died, but we find that his works werepublished after his death by the great Shakespear, and it may perhapsbe reasonably concluded that it was about the year 1614. 

[Footnote 1: The late Mr. C. Bullock, a comedian, and some timemanager of Lincoln's-Inn-Fields theatre, _made_ a play from thatpiece. ]

 * * * * *

WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR. 

There have been some ages in which providence seemed pleased in amost remarkable manner to display it self, in giving to the world thefinest genius's to illuminate a people formerly barbarous. After along night of Gothic ignorance, after many ages of priestcraft andsuperstition, learning and genius visited our Island in the days ofthe renowned Queen Elizabeth. It was then that liberty began to dawn, and the people having shook off the restraints of priestly austerity, presumed to think for themselves. At an Æra so remarkable as this, sofamous in history, it seems no wonder that the nation would be blessedwith those immortal ornaments of wit and learning, who all conspiredat once to make it famous. ----This astonishing genius, seemed to becommissioned from above, to deliver us not only from the ignoranceunder which we laboured as to poetry, but to carry poetry almost toits perfection. But to write a panegyric on Shakespear appears asunnecessary, as the attempt would be vain; for whoever has any tastefor what is great, terrible, or tender, may meet with the amplestgratification in Shakespear; as may those also have a taste fordrollery and true humour. His genius was almost boundless, and hesucceeded alike in every part of writing. I cannot forbear giving thecharacter of Shakespear in the words of a great genius, in a prologuespoken by Mr. Garrick when he first opened Drury-lane house asManager. 

 When learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes, First rear'd the stage;----immortal Shakespear rose, Each change of many-coloured life he drew, Exhausted worlds, and then imagined new, Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, And panting time toiled after him, in vain. 

All men have discovered a curiosity to know the little stories andparticularities of a great genius; for it often happens, that whenwe attend a man to his closet, and watch his moments of solitude, weshall find such expressions drop from him, or we may observe suchinstances of peculiar conduct, as will let us more into his realcharacter, than ever we can discover while we converse with him inpublic, and when perhaps he appears under a kind of mask. There arebut few things known of this great man; few incidents of his life havedescended to posterity, and tho' no doubt the fame of his abilitiesmade a great noise in the age in which he flourished; yet his stationwas not such as to produce many incidents, as it was subject to butfew vicissitudes. Mr. Rowe, who well understood, and greatly admiredShakespear, has been at pains to collect what incidents were known, or were to be found concerning him, and it is chiefly upon Mr. Rowe'sauthority we build the account now given. 

Our author was the son of John Shakespear, and was born at Stratfordupon Avon in Warwickshire, April 1564, at it appears by public recordsrelating to that town. The family from which he is descended was ofgood figure and fashion there, and are mentioned as gentlemen. Hisfather, who was a considerable dealer in wool, being incumbred with alarge family of ten children, could afford to give his eldest sonbut a slender education. He had bred him at a free school, where heacquired what Latin he was master of, but how well he understood thatlanguage, or whether after his leaving the school he made greaterproficiency in it, has been disputed and is a point very difficult tosettle. However it is certain, that Mr. John Shakespear, our author'sfather, was obliged to withdraw him early from school, in order tohave his assistance in his own employment, towards supporting the restof the family. "It is without controversy, says Rowe, that in hisworks we scarce find any traces that look like an imitation of theancients. The delicacy of his taste, and the natural bent of his owngreat genius, equal, if not superior to some of the best of theirs, would certainly have led him to read and study them with so muchpleasure, that some of their fine images would naturally haveinsinuated themselves into, and been mixed with his own writings; sothat his not copying at least something from them, may be an argumentof his never having read them. Whether his ignorance of the ancientswas disadvantageous to him or no, may admit of dispute; for tho' theknowledge of them might have made him more correct, yet it is notimprobable, but that the regularity and deference for them which wouldhave attended that correctness, might have restrained some of thatfire, impetuosity, and even beautiful extravagance, which we cannothelp admiring in Shakespear. "

As to his want of learning, Mr. Pope makes the following justobservation: That there is certainly a vast difference betweenlearning and languages. How far he was ignorant of the latter, Icannot (says he) determine; but it is plain he had much reading, atleast, if they will not call it learning; nor is it any great matterif a man has knowledge, whether he has it from one language or fromanother. Nothing is more evident, than that he had a taste for naturalphilosophy, mechanics, ancient and modern history, poetical learning, and mythology. We find him very knowing in the customs, rites, andmanners of the Romans. In Coriolanus, and Julius Cæsar, not only thespirit but manners of the Romans are exactly drawn; and still a nicerdistinction is shewn between the manners of the Romans in the time ofthe former and the latter. His reading in the ancient historians is noless conspicuous, in many references to particular passages; andthe speeches copied from Plutarch in Coriolanus may as well be madeinstances of his learning as those copied from Cicero in the Catalineof Ben Johnson. The manners of other nations in general, theÆgyptians, Venetians, French, &c. Are drawn with equal propriety. Whatever object of nature, or branch of science, he either speaks ordescribes, it is always with competent, if not extensive, knowledge. His descriptions are still exact, and his metaphors appropriated, and remarkably drawn from the nature and inherent qualities of eachsubject. ----We have translations from Ovid published in his name, among those poems which pass for his, and for some of which we haveundoubted authority, being published by himself, and dedicated to theEarl of Southampton. He appears also to have been conversant withPlautus, from whence he has taken the plot of one of his plays; hefollows the Greek authors, and particularly Dares Phrygius in another, although I will not pretend, continues Mr. Pope, to say in whatlanguage he read them. 

Mr. Warburton has strongly contended for Shakespear's learning, andhas produced many imitations and parallel passages with ancientauthors, in which I am inclined to think him right, and beg leave toproduce few instances of it. He always, says Mr. Warbur-ton, makesan ancient speak the language of an ancient. So Julius Cæsar, Act I. Scene II. 

 ----Ye Gods, it doth amazs me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world, And bear the palm alone. 

This noble image is taken from the Olympic games. This majestic worldis a fine periphrasis of the Roman Empire; majestic, because theRomans ranked themselves on a footing with kings, and a world, becausethey called their empire Orbis Romanus; but the whole story seems toallude to Cæsar's great exemplar, Alexander, who, when he was askedwhether he would run the course of the Olympic games, replied, 'Yes, if the racers were kings. '--So again in Anthony and Cleopatra, Act I. Scene I. Anthony says with an astonishing sublimity, Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide arch Of the razed Empire fall. 

Taken from the Roman custom of raising triumphal arches to perpetuatetheir victories. 

And again, Act III. Scene IV. Octavia says to Anthony, of thedifference between him and her brother, "Wars 'twixt you twain would be As if the world should cleave, and that slain men Should solder up the reft"----

This thought seems taken from the story of Curtius leaping into theChasm in the Forum, in order to close it, so that, as that was closedby one Roman, if the whole world were to cleave, Romans only couldsolder it up. The metaphor of soldering is extreamly exact, accordingto Mr. Warburton; for, says he, as metal is soldered up by metal thatis more refined than that which it solders, so the earth was to besoldered by men, who are only a more refined earth. 

The manners of other nations in general, the Egyptians, Venetians, French, etc. Are drawn with equal propriety. An instance of this shallbe produced with regard to the Venetians. In the Merchant of Venice, Act IV. Scene I. 

 ----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 himwell acquainted with the history of the people, whom he here bringsupon the stage. For when the French and Venetians in the beginning ofthe thirteenth century, had won Constantinople, the French under theEmperor Henry endeavoured to extend their conquests, in the provincesof the Grecian empire on the Terra firma, while the Venetians beingmasters of the sea, gave liberty to any subject of the Republic, whowould fit out vessels to make themselves masters of the isles of theArchipelago and other maritime places, to enjoy their conquests insovereignty, only doing homage to the Republic for their severalprincipalities. In pursuance of this licence the Sanudo's, theJustiniani, the Grimaldi, the Summaripa's, and others, all Venetianmerchants, erected principalities in the several places of theArchipelago, and thereby became truly, and properly Royal Merchants. 

But there are several places which one cannot forbear thinking atranslation 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 thegrammar school, he seems, to have entirely devoted himself to that wayof living which his father proposed, and in order to settle in theworld after a family manner, thought fit to marry while he was yetvery young. His wife was the daughter of one Hatchway, said to havebeen a substantial Yeoman in the neighbourhood of Stratford. In thiskind of domestic obscurity he continued for some time, till by anunhappy instance of misconduct, he was obliged to quit the place ofhis nativity, and take shelter in London, which luckily proved theoccasion of displaying one of the greatest genius's that ever wasknown in dramatic poetry. He had the misfortune to fall into illcompany: Among these were some who made a frequent practice ofDeer-stealing, and who engaged him more than once in robbing a parkthat belonged to Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecot near Stratford; forwhich he was prosecuted by that gentleman, as he thought somewhat tooseverely; and in order to revenge himself of this supposed ill usage, he made a ballad upon him; and tho' this, probably the first essay ofhis poetry, be lost, yet it is said to have been so very bitter, thatit redoubled the prosecution against him to that degree, that he wasobliged to leave his business and family for some time, and shelterhimself in London. This Sir Thomas Lucy, was, it is said, afterwardsridiculed by Shakespear, under the well known character of JusticeShallow. 

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

Concerning Shakespear's first appearance in the playhouse. When hecame to London, he was without money and friends, and being astranger he knew not to whom to apply, nor by what means to supporthimself. ----At that time coaches not being in use, and as gentlemenwere accustomed to ride to the playhouse, Shakespear, driven to thelast necessity, went to the playhouse door, and pick'd up a littlemoney by taking care of the gentlemens horses who came to the play; hebecame eminent even in that profession, and was taken notice of forhis diligence and skill in it; he had soon more business than hehimself could manage, and at last hired boys under him, who were knownby the name of Shakespear's boys: Some of the players accidentallyconversing with him, found him so acute, and master of so fine aconversation, that struck therewith, they and recommended him to thehouse, in which he was first admitted in a very low station, but hedid not long remain so, for he soon distinguished himself, if notas an extraordinary actor, at least as a fine writer. His name ispainted, as the custom was in those times, amongst those of the otherplayers, before some old plays, but without any particular account ofwhat sort of parts he used to play: and Mr. Rowe says, "that tho' hevery carefully enquired, he found the top of his performance was theghost in his own Hamlet. " "I should have been much more pleased, "continues Rowe, "to have learned from some certain authority which wasthe first play he writ; it would be without doubt, a pleasure to anyman curious in things of this kind, to see and know what was the firstessay of a fancy like Shakespear's. " The highest date which Rowe hasbeen able to trace, is Romeo and Juliet, in 1597, when the author wasthirty-three years old; and Richard II and III the next year, viz. Thethirty-fourth of his age. Tho' the order of time in which his severalpieces were written be generally uncertain, yet there are passages insome few of them, that seem to fix their dates. So the chorus at theend of the fourth act of Henry V by a compliment very handsomelyturned to the Earl of Essex, shews the play to have been written whenthat Lord was general to the queen in Ireland; and his eulogium uponQueen Elizabeth, and her successor King James in the latter end of hisHenry VIII is a proof of that play's being written after the accessionof the latter of these two princes to the throne of England. Whateverthe particular times of his writing were, the people of the age helived in, who began to grow wonderfully fond of diversions of thiskind, could not but be highly pleased to see a genius arise amongstthem, of so pleasurable, so rich a vein, and and so plentifullycapable of furnishing their favourite entertainments. Besides theadvantage which Shakespear had over all men in the article of wit, hewas of a sweet, gentle, amiable disposition, and was a most agreeablecompanion; so that he became dear to all that knew him, both as afriend and as a poet, and by that means was introduced to the bestcompany, and held conversation with the finest characters of his time. Queen Elizabeth had several of his plays acted before her, and thatprincess was too quick a discerner, and rewarder of merit, to sufferthat of Shakespear to be neglected. It is that maiden princess plainlywhom 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 representationof 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 ofFalstaff in the two parts of Henry IV. That she commanded him tocontinue it in one play more, and to make him in love. This is said tohave been the occasion of his writing the Merry Wives of Windsor. Howwell she was obeyed, the play itself is a proof; and here I cannothelp observing, that a poet seldom succeeds in any subject assignedhim, so well as that which is his own choice, and where he has theliberty of selecting: Nothing is more certain than that Shakespearhas failed in the Merry Wives of Windsor. And tho' that comedy is notwithout merit, yet it falls short of his other plays in which Falstaffis introduced, and that Knight is not half so witty in the Merry Wivesof Windsor as in Henry IV. The humour is scarcely natural, and doesnot excite to laughter so much as the other. It appears by theepilogue to Henry IV. That the part of Falstaff was written originallyunder the name of Oldcastle. Some of that family being then remaining, the Queen was pleased to command him to alter it, upon which he madeuse of the name of Falstaff. The first offence was indeed avoided, butI am not sure whether the author might not be somewhat to blame in hissecond choice, since it is certain, that Sir John Falstaff who wasa knight of the garter, and a lieutenant-general, was a name ofdistinguished merit in the wars with France, in Henry V. And HenryVIth's time. 

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

There is no certain account when Shakespear quitted the stage for aprivate life. Some have thought that Spenser's Thalia in the Tears ofthe 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 thatSpenser himself died in the year 1598, and five years after this wefind Shakespear's name amongst the actors in Ben Johnson's Sejanus, which first made its appearance in the year 1603, nor could he thenhave any thoughts of retiring, since that very year, a license by KingJames 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 thewater, as in any other parts of the kingdom, during his Majesty'spleasure. This license is printed in Rymer's Fædera; besides it iscertain, Shakespear did not write Macbeth till after the accession ofJames I. Which he did as a compliment to him, as he there embraces thedoctrine of witches, of which his Majesty was so fond that he wrote abook called Dæmonalogy, in defence of their existence; and likewiseat that time began to touch for the Evil, which Shakespear has takennotice of, and paid him a fine turned compliment. So that what Spenserthere says, if it relates at all to Shakespear, must hint at someoccasional recess which he made for a time. 

What particular friendships he contracted with private men, we cannotat this time know, more than that every one who had a true taste formerit, and could distinguish men, had generally a just value andesteem for him. His exceeding candour and good nature must certainlyhave inclined all the gentler part of the world to love him, as thepower of his wit obliged the men of the most refined knowledge andpolite learning to admire him. His acquaintance with Ben Johnson beganwith a remarkable piece of humanity and good nature: Mr. Johnson, whowas at that time altogether unknown to the world, had offered one ofhis plays to the stage, in order to have it acted, and the person intowhose hands it was put, after having turned it carelessly over, wasjust upon returning it to him with an ill-natured answer, that itwould be of no service to their company, when Shakespeare luckily casthis eye upon it, and found something so well in it, as to engage himfirst to read it through, and afterwards to recommend Mr. Johnson andhis 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, andin that to his wish, and is said to have spent some years beforehis death in his native Stratford. His pleasant wit and good natureengaged him in the acquaintance, and entitled him to the friendship, of the gentlemen of the neighbourhood. It is still remembered in thatcounty, that he had a particular intimacy with one Mr. Combe, an oldgentleman, noted thereabouts for his wealth and usury. It happenedthat in a pleasant conversation amongst their common friends, Mr. Combe merrily told Shakespear, that he fancied he intended to writehis epitaph, if he happened to out-live him; and since he could notknow what might be said of him when dead, he desired it might be doneimmediately; 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 soseverely, that he never forgave it. 

Shakespear died in the fifty-third year of his age, and was buried onthe North side of the chancel in the great church at Stratford, wherea monument is placed on the wall. The following is the inscription onhis 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 theelder to Mr. Thomas Quincy, by whom she had three sons, who all diedwithout children, and Susannah, who was his favourite, to Dr. JohnHall, a physician of good reputation in that county. She left onechild, a daughter, who was married to Thomas Nash, Esq; and afterwardsto Sir John Bernard, of Abington, but deceased likewise without issue. 

His dramatic writings were first published together in folio 1623 bysome of the actors of the different companies they had been acted in, and perhaps by other servants of the theatre into whose hands copiesmight 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 thecharacter of Shakespear. I shall present it the reader in his ownwords, 'I remember the players have often mentioned it as an honour toShakespear, that in writing he never blotted out a line. My answerhath been, would he had blotted out a thousand! which they thoughta malevolent speech. I had not told posterity this, but for theirignorance, who chuse that circumstance to commend their friend by, wherein he most faulted; and to justify my own character (for I lov'dthe man, and do honour to his memory, on this side idolatry, as muchas any). He was indeed honest, and of an open free nature, had anexcellent fancy, brave notions, and gentle expressions, wherein heflowed with that facility, that sometimes it was necessary he shouldbe stopp'd. His wit was in his own power: would the rule of it hadbeen so. Many times he fell into those things which could not escapelaughter, as when he said in the person of Cæsar, one speaking tohim, "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 withhis virtues; there was ever more in them to be praised, than to bepardoned. ' 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 atdiscovering the faults of Shakespear, yet he was not master of such agenius, as to rise to his excellencies; and great as Johnson was, heappears not a little tinctured with envy. Notwithstanding the defectsof Shakespear, he is justly elevated above all other dramatic writers. If ever any author deserved the name of original (says Pope) it washe: [1] 'His poetry was inspiration indeed; he is not so much animitator, as instrument of nature; and it is not so just to say ofhim that he speaks from her, as that she speaks through him. Hischaracters are so much nature herself, that it is a sort of injury tocall them by so distant a name as copies of her. The power over ourpassions was likewise never possessed in so eminent a degree, ordisplayed in so many different instances, nor was he more a matter ofthe great, than of the ridiculous in human nature, nor only excelledin the passions, since he was full as admirable in the coolness ofreflection and reasoning: His sentiments are not only in general themost pertinent and judicious upon every subject, but by a talent verypeculiar, something between penetration and felicity, he hits uponthat particular point, on which the bent of each argument, or theforce of each motive depends. '

Our author's plays are to be distinguished only into Comedies andTragedies. Those which are called Histories, and even some of hisComedies, are really Tragedies, with a mixture of Comedy amongst them. That way of Tragi-comedy was the common mistake of that age, and isindeed become so agreeable to the English taste, that though theseverer critics among us cannot bear it, yet the generality of ouraudiences seem better pleased with it than an exact Tragedy. There iscertainly a great deal of entertainment in his comic humours, and apleasing and well distinguished variety in those characters he thoughtfit to exhibit with. His images are indeed every where so lively, thatthe thing he would represent stands full before you, and you possessevery part of it; of which this instance is astonishing: it is animage 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 whichperhaps is the most excellent part of the drama, is the manners of hispersons, in acting and in speaking what is proper for them, and fitto be shewn by the Poet, in making an apparent difference between hischaracters, and marking every one in the strongest manner. 

Poets who have not a little succeeded in writing for the stage, haveyet fallen short of their great original in the general power of thedrama; none ever found so ready a road to the heart; his tender scenesare inexpressibly moving, and such as are meant to raise terror, areno less alarming; but then Shakespeare does not much shine when he isconsidered by particular passages; he sometimes debases the noblestimages in nature by expressions which are too vulgar for poetry. Theingenious author of the Rambler has observed, that in the invocationof Macbeth, before he proceeds to the murder of Duncan, when he thusexpresses 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 vulgarmouths, destroy in some manner the grandeur of the image, and were twowords of a higher signification, and removed above common use, putin their place, I may challenge poetry itself to furnish an imageso noble. Poets of an inferior class, when considered by particularpassages, are excellent, but then their ideas are not so great, theirdrama is not so striking, and it is plain enough that they possess notsouls so elevated as Shakespeare's. What can be more beautiful thanthe flowing enchantments of Rowe; the delicate and tender touches ofOtway and Southern, or the melting enthusiasm of Lee and Dryden, but yet none of their pieces have affected the human heart likeShakespeare's. 

But I cannot conclude the character of Shakespeare, without takingnotice, that besides the suffrage of almost all wits since his time inhis favour, he is particularly happy in that of Dryden, who had readand studied him clearly, sometimes borrowed from him, and well knewwhere his strength lay. In his Prologue to the Tempest altered, he hasthe 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, areas 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 QueenElizabeth. 

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

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

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

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

7. Much Ado About Nothing, a Comedy; for the plot see Ariosto'sOrlando 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 playthere is something singularly ridiculous in the fantastical stewardMalvolio; part of the plot taken from Plautus's Mænechmi. 

15. The Winter's Tale, a Tragi-Comedy; for the plot of this playconsult 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 DukeHumphrey. 

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

22. The Life and Death of Richard III. With the landing of the Earl ofRichmond, and the battle of Bosworth field. In this part Mr. Garrickwas 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. Thisis perhaps one of the most affecting plays of Shakespear: it was notlong since acted fourteen nights together at both houses, at the sametime, and it was a few years before revived and acted twelve nightswith 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 Scotchwriters. 

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'sNovels. 

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 KingHenry VIII. 

39. The History of Sir John Oldcastle, the good Lord Cobham, aTragedy. 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 thestory in Milton's History of England. 

Our age, which demonstrates its taste in nothing so truly and justlyas in the admiration it pays to the works of Shakespear, has had thehonour of raising a monument for him in Westminster Abbey; to effectwhich, the Tragedy of Julius Cæsar was acted at the Theatre Royal inDrury Lane, April 28, 1738, and the profits arising from it depositedin the hands of the earl of Burlington, Mr. Pope, Dr. Mead, andothers, in order to be laid out upon the said monument. A new Prologueand Epilogue were spoken on that occasion; the Prologue was written byBenjamin Martyn esquire; the Epilogue by the hon. James Noel esquire, and spoke by Mrs. Porter. On Shakespear's monument there is a nobleepitaph, taken from his own Tempest, and is excellently appropriatedto him; with this let us close his life, only with this observation, that his works will never be forgot, 'till that epitaph isfulfilled. --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; wascotemporary with George Chapman, and flourished in the end ofElizabeth and King James's reign; he was called by the poets in histime, the silver-tongu'd Sylvester, but it is doubtful whether hereceived any academical education. In his early years he is reportedto have been a merchant adventurer. [1] Queen Elizabeth is said to havehad a respect for him, her successor still a greater, and Prince Henrygreater than his father; the prince so valued our bard, that he madehim his first Poet-Pensioner. He was not more celebrated for hispoetry, than his extraordinary private virtues, his sobriety andsincere attachment to the duties of religion. He was also remarkablefor his fortitude and resolution in combating adversity: we arefurther 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 muchasperity, he exposed himself to the resentment of those in power, whosignified their displeasure, to the mortification and trouble of theauthor. Our poet gained more reputation by the translation of DuBartas, than by any of his own compositions. Besides his Weeks andWorks, 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 ofFaith, Miracle of Peace, the Vocation, the Daw; the Captains, theTrophies, the Magnificence, &c. Also a Paradox of Odes de la Nove, Baron of Teligni with the Quadrians of Pibeac; all which translationswere generally well received; but for his own works, which were boundup with them, they received not, says Winstanley, so general anapprobation, 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 55years, and had the following epitaph made on him by his great admirerJohn Vicars beforementioned, but we do not find that it was put uponhis 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 Hallin Oxford, where he remained about three years, and by the assistanceof an excellent tutor, made a very great proficiency in academicallearning; but his genius inclining him more to studies of a gayer andsofter kind, he quitted the University, and applied himself to historyand poetry. His own merit, added to the recommendation of his brotherin 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 Groomsof the Privy-Chamber, which enabled him to rent a house near London, where privately he composed many of his dramatic pieces. He was tutorto Lady Ann Clifford, and on the death of the great Spenser, he wasappointed Poet Laureat to Queen Elizabeth. Towards the end of his lifehe retired to a farm which he had at Beckington near Philips Nortonin Somersetshire, where after some time spent in the service of theMuses, and in religious contemplation, he died in the year 1619. Heleft no issue by his wife Justina, to whom he was married severalyears. Wood says, that in the wall over his grave there is thisinscription;

 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, beingwritten in the Ovidian manner, with great tenderness and variety ofpassion. The measure is Stanzas of seven lines. Let the followingspecimen shew the harmony and delicacy of his numbers, where he makesRosamond speak of beauty in as expressive a manner as description canreach. 

 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'sCourt in the Strand, at her Majesty's entertainment of the King, atthe nuptials of lord Roxborough, London, 1623, 4to. It is introducedby a pretty contrived Prologue by way of dialogue, in which Hymenis opposed by avarice, envy and jealousy; in this piece our authorsometimes touches the passions with a very delicate hand. 

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

5. The Vision of the Twelve Goddesses, presented in a Masque the 8thof January at Hampton-Court, by the Queen's most excellent Majesty andher Ladies. London 1604, 8vo. And 1623, 4to. It is dedicated to theLady Lucy, countess of Bedford. His design under the shapes, and inthe persons of the Twelve Goddesses, was to shadow out the blessingswhich the nation enjoyed, under the peaceful reign of King James I. ByJuno 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 thecharacter of Philotas was drawn for the unfortunate earl of Essex, which obliged the author to vindicate himself from this charge, in anapology printed at the end of the play; both this play, and that ofCleopatra, are written after the manner of the ancients, with a chorusbetween each act. 

7. The History of the Civil Wars between the Houses of York andLancaster, 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 atBurleigh-Harrington in Rutlandshire, 1604 and 1623, 4to. 

10. Epistles to various great Personages in Verse, London, 1601 and1623, 4to. 

11. The Passion of a Distressed Man, who being on a tempest on thesea, and having in his boat two women (of whom he loved the one whodisdained him, and scorned the other who loved him) was, by command ofNeptune, 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 toknow the determination of this man's choice, it is summed up in theconcluding 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 theAngel Spirit of Sir Philip Sidney. 18. A Defence of Rhime. All thesepieces are published together in two volumes, 12 mo. Under the titleof the poetical pieces of Mr. Samuel Daniel. 

But however well qualified our author's genius was for poetry, yetLangbain 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. Itreaches from the state of Britain under the Romans, to the beginningof the reign of Richard II. His history has received encomiums fromvarious hands, as well as his poetry: It was continued by John Trusul, with like brevity and candour, but not with equal elegance, 'till thereign of Richard III. A. D. 1484. Mr. Daniel lived respected by men ofworth and fashion, he passed through life without tasting many of thevicissitudes of fortune; he seems to have been a second rate genius, and a tolerable versifier; his poetry in some places is tender, butwant of fire is his characteristical fault. He was unhappy in thechoice of his subject of a civil war for a poem, which obliged himto descend to minute descriptions, and nothing merely narrativecan properly be touched in poetry, which demands flights of theimagination and bold images. 

 * * * * *

Sir JOHN HARRINGTON, Born at Kelston near the city of Bath, was the son of John Harringtonesquire, who was imprisoned in the Tower in the reign of Queen Mary, for holding a correspondence with the Lady Elizabeth; with whom he wasin great favour after her accession to the crown, and received manytestimonies of her bounty and gratitude. Sir John, our author, had thehonour 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 toCambridge, he there commenced master of arts, and before he arrived athis 30th year, he favoured the world with a translation of the OrlandoFurioso of Ariosto, by which he acquired some reputation. After thiswork, he composed four books of epigrams, which in those times werereceived with great applause; several of these mention anotherhumorous piece of his called Misacmos Metatmorphosis, which for awhile exposed him to her Majesty's resentment, yet he was afterwardsreceived into favour. This (says Mrs. Cooper) is not added to the restof his works, and therefore she supposes was only meant for a Courtamusement, not the entertainment of the public, or the increase ofhis fame. In the reign of King James I. He was created Knight of theBath[2], and presented a manuscript to Prince Henry, called a BriefView of the State of the Church of England, as it stood in QueenElizabeth and King James's reign in the year 1608. This piece waslevelled chiefly against the married bishops, and was intended onlyfor the private use of his Highness, but was some years afterwardspublished by one of Sir John's grandsons, and occasioned muchdispleasure from the clergy, who did not fail to recollect that hisconduct was of a piece with his doctrines, as he, together with Robertearl of Leicester, supported Sir Walter Raleigh in his suit to QueenElizabeth for the manor of Banwell, belonging to the bishopric of Bathand Wells, on the presumption that the right reverend incumbent hadincurred 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 anadvantage to an author, wit was not his business, but diversion: 'Tisnot to be doubted, but his translation of Ariosto was published afterSpenser's Fairy Queen, and yet both in language and numbers it ismuch inferior, as much as it is reasonable to suppose the genius ofHarrington was below that of Spenser. 

Mrs. Cooper remarks, that the whole poem of Orlando is a tediousmedley of unnatural characters, and improbable events, and that theauthor's patron, Cardinal Hippolito De Este, had some reason for thatsevere question. Where the devil, Signior Ludovico, did you pick upall these damned lies? The genius of Ariosto seems infinitely morefit for satire than heroic poetry; and some are of opinion, that hadHarrington wrote nothing but epigrams, he had been more in his ownway. 

We cannot certainly fix the time that Sir John died, but it isreasonable to suppose that it was about the middle, or rather towardsthe latter end of James I's reign. I shall subjoin an epigram of hisas 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 wascotemporary with Ben Johnson, so he became more eminent by having aquarrel with that great man, than by all his works. Decker was but anindifferent 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'sapplauses confer no great honour on those who enjoy them. Our authorjoined with Webster in writing three plays, and with Rowley and Fordin another; and Langbaine asserts, that these plays in which he onlycontributed a part, far exceed those of his own composition. He hasbeen 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 whatsuccess, or when acted, I cannot gain any account. 

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

III. Honest Whore, the second part, a comedy; with the humours of thePatient Man, the Impatient Wife; the Honest Whore persuaded by strongarguments to turn Courtezan again; her refusing those arguments, andlastly the comical passage of an Italian bridewel, where the sceneends. Printed in 4to, London 1630. This play Langbaine thinks wasnever exhibited, neither is it divided into acts. 

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

Match me in London, a Tragi-Comedy, often presented, first at theBull's head in St. John's-street, and then at a private house inDrury-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 andJohn Webster. 

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

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, andprinted in 4to. London 1607. The design of this play, by feignednames, is to set forth the admirable virtues of queen Elizabeth;and the dangers she escaped by the happy discovery of those designsagainst her sacred person by the Jesuits and bigotted Papists. 

X. Wyatt's History, a play said to be writ by him and Webster, andprinted 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 preventher 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 saidby Mr. Phillips and Winstanley to be an associate with John Webster, viz. Noble Stranger; New Trick to cheat the Devil; Weakest goes to theWall; Woman will have her Will; in all which Langbaine asserts theyare mistaken, for the first was written by Lewis Sharp, and the otherby anonymous authors. 

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

 * * * * *

BEAUMONT and FLETCHER

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

Mr. FRANCIS BEAUMONT

Was descended from the ancient family of his name, seated at Gracedieu in Leicestershire, [1] and was born about the year 1585 in thereign of Queen Elizabeth. His grandfather, John Beaumont, was Masterof the Rolls, and his father Francis Beaumont, one of the Judges ofthe Common Pleas. Our poet had his education at Cambridge, [2]but ofwhat college we are not informed, nor is it very material to know. Wefind him afterwards admitted a student in the Inner-Temple, but wehave no account of his making any proficiency in the law, which isa circumstance attending almost all the poets who were bred to thatprofession, 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 theninth of the same month in the entrance of St. Benedictine's Chapel, within St. Peter's Westminster. We meet with no inscription on histomb, but there are two epitaphs writ on him, one by his elder brotherSir John Beaumont, and the other by Bishop Corbet. That by his brotheris 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, wholived to a great age and, died in Leicestershire since the year 1700. She had been possessed of several poems of her father's writing, butthey were lost at sea in her voyage from Ireland, where she had livedsometime in the Duke of Ormond's family. Besides the plays in whichBeaumont was jointly concerned with Fletcher, he writ a littledramatic piece entitled, A Masque of Grays Inn Gentlemen, and theInner-Temple; a poetical epistle to Ben Johnson; verses to his friendMr. John Fletcher, upon his faithful Shepherd, and other poem'sprinted together in 1653, 8vo. That pastoral which was written byFletcher alone, having met with but an indifferent reception, Beaumontaddressed the following copy of verses to him on that occasion, inwhich he represents the hazard of writing for the stage, and satirizesthe audience for want of judgment, which, in order to shew hisversification 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 BenJohnson, while he lived, submitted all his writings to his censures;and it is thought, used his judgment in correcting, if not contrivingmost 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 bornin Northamptonshire in the year 1576. He was educated at Cambridge, probably at Burnet-college, to which his father was by his lastwill and testament a benefactor[1]. He wrote plays jointly with Mr. Beaumont, and Wood says he assisted Ben Johnson in a Comedy calledThe Widow. After Beaumont's death, it is said he consulted Mr. JamesShirley in forming the plots of several of his plays, but which thosewere we have no means of discovering. The editor of Beaumont andFletcher's plays in 1711 thinks it very probable that Shirley suppliedmany that were left imperfect, and that the players gave some remainsof 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 anostler transcribed verbatim out of Ben Johnson's New Inn, Act I. SceneI. Which play was written long after Fletcher died, and transplantedinto Love's Pilgrimage, after printing the New Inn, which was in theyear 1630, and two of the plays printed under Fletcher's name. TheCoronation and The Little Thief have been claimed by Shirley as his;it is probable they were left imperfect by the one, and finished bythe other. Mr. Fletcher died of the plague in the forty ninth year ofhis 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 wasusually employed in correcting and retrenching the superfluities ofFletcher's wit, whose fault was, as Mr. Cartwright expresses it, to dotoo much; but if Winstanley may be credited, the former had his sharelikewise in the drama, for that author relates, that our poets meetingonce at a tavern in order to form the rude draught of a tragedy, Fletcher undertook to kill the king, which words being overheard bya waiter, he was officious enough, in order to recommend himself, to lodge an information against them: but their loyalty beingunquestioned, and the relation of the circumstance probable, that thevengeance was only aimed at a theatrical monarch, the affair ended ina jest. 

The first play which brought them into esteem, as Dryden says, wasPhilaster, or Love lies a Bleeding; for, before that, they had writtentwo or three very unsuccessfully, as the like is reported of BenJohnson before he writ Every Man in his Humour. These authors had withthe advantage of the wit of Shakespear, which was their precedent, great natural gifts improved by study. Their plots are allowedgenerally more regular than Shakespear's; they touch the tenderpassions, and excite love in a very moving manner; their faults, notwithstanding Beaumont's castigation, consist in a certainluxuriance, and stretching their speeches to an immoderate length;[2]however, it must be owned their wit is great, their language suitedto the passions they raise, and the age in which they lived is asufficient apology for their defects. Mr. Dryden tells us, in hisEssay on Dramatic Poetry, that Beaumont and Fletcher's plays in histime were the most pleasing and frequent entertainments of the stage, two of theirs being acted through the year for one of Shakespear's orJohnson's; and the reason he assigns is, because there is a certaingaiety in their comedies, and a pathos in their most serious playswhich suits generally with all men's humours; but however it mightbe when Dryden writ, the case is now reversed, for Beaumont andFletcher's plays are not acted above once a season, while one ofShakespear's is represented almost every third night. It may seemstrange, that wits of the first magnitude should not be so muchhonoured in the age in which they live, as by posterity;[3] it is nowfashionable to be in raptures with Shakespear; editions are multipliedupon editions, and men of the greatest genius have employed all theirpower in illustrating his beauties, which ever grow upon the reader, and gain ground upon perusal. These noble authors have receivedincense of praise from the highest pens; they were loved and esteemedby their cotemporaries, who have not failed to demonstrate theirrespect by various copies of verses at different times, and upondifferent occasions, addressed to them, the insertion of which wouldexceed the bounds proposed for this work. I shall only observe, thatamongst the illustrious names of their admirers, are Denham, Waller, Cartwright, Ben Johnson, Sir John Berkenhead, and Dryden himself, aname more than equal to all the rest. But the works of our authorshave not escaped the censure of critics, especially Mr. Rhymer thehistoriographer, who was really a man of wit and judgment, butsomewhat 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 calledThe Tragedies of the Last Age considered, and examined by the practiceof the ancients, and by the common sense of all ages, in a letterto Fleetwood Shepherd esquire. Mr. Rymer sent one of his books as apresent to Mr. Dryden, who in the blank leaves before the beginning, and after the end of the book, made several remarks, as if he intendedto publish an answer to that critic, and his opinion of the workwas this[4]; "My judgment (says he) of this piece, is, that it isextremely learned, but the author seems better acquainted with theGreek, than the English poets; that all writers ought to study thiscritic as the best account I have seen of the ancients; that the modelof tragedy he has here given is extremely correct, but that it is notthe only model of tragedy, because it is too much circumscribed in theplot, characters, &c. And lastly, that we may be taught here justly toadmire 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 duringthe lives of their authors; and in the year 1645 twenty years afterFletcher's death, there was published in folio a collection of theirplays which had not been printed before, amounting to between thirtyand forty. At the beginning of this volume are inserted a great numberof commendatory verses, written by the most eminent wits of that age. This collection was published by Mr. Shirley after shutting up theTheatres, and dedicated to the earl of Pembroke by ten of the mostfamous actors. In 1679 there was an edition of all their playspublished in folio. Another edition in 1711 by Tonson in seven volumes8vo. Containing all the verses in praise of the authors, and supplyinga large omission of part of the last act of Thierry and Theodoret. There was also another edition in 1751. The plays of our authors areas 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, actedat the Theatre at Dorset-Garden. The plot is taken from Herodian'sHistory, b. Iv. 

4. Captain, a Comedy. 

5. Chances, a Comedy; this was revived by Villiers duke of Buckinghamwith 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 fromMalispini'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 atwelfth-night at Somerset House. This was entirely Mr. Fletcher's, and instead of a Prologue was sung a Dialogue, between a priest and anymph, written by Sir William Davenant, and the Epilogue was spoken bythe Lady Mordant, but met with no success. 

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

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

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

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

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

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 aPrologue 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 theSpanish Rogue. 

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

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

26. The Lovers Progress, a Tragi-Comedy; built on a French romancecalled 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 theduke of York's Theatre. 

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

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

32. Monsieur Thomas, a Comedy. This play has been since acted on thestage, 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 theRestoration with applause. 

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

36. Philaster, or Love lies a Bleeding, a Tragi-Comedy. This was thefirst play that brought these fine writers into esteem. It was firstrepresented at the old Theatre in Lincolns Inn Fields, when the womenacted 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 TheCommonwealth 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 SpanishCurate, p. 214. 

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

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

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

47. A Wife for a Month, a Tragedy; for the plot see Mariana and Louisde 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 LincolnsInn Fields, immediately after the burning of the Theatre in DruryLane, with a new Prologue by Mr. Dryden. 

51. The Woman Hater, a Comedy, revived by Sir William Davenant, with anew 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 samefoundation with Shakespear's Taming of a Shrew; writ by Fletcherwithout 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, butwhether born there, is not ascertained. He made his first appearanceat the university of Oxford about the year 1573, and was afterwards ascholar under the learned Mr. Edward Hobye of Trinity College; where, says Wood, making very early advances, his ingenuity began first to beobserved, in several of his poetical compositions. After he had takenone degree in arts, and dedicated some time to reading the bards ofantiquity, he gained some reputation in poetry, particularly of thesatiric species; but being convinced how barren a foil poetry is, andhow unlikely to yield a competent provision for its professors, hestudied physic, for the improvement of which he went beyond sea, took the degree of Dr. Of that faculty at Avignon, returned and wasincorporated in the university in the latter end of Queen Elizabeth'sreign: Afterwards settling in London, he practised physic with greatsuccess, and was particularly encouraged by the Roman Catholics, ofwhich persuasion it is said he was. 

Our author hath written

Alarm against Usurers, containing tried experiences against worldlyabuses, London 1584. 

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

Euphue's Golden Legacy. 

The Wounds of a Civil War livelily set forth, in the true Tragedies ofMarius 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 wasassisted 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 otherswho had writ dramas on sacred themes long before them; as Ezekiel, aJewish dramatic poet, writ the Deliverance of the Israelites out ofEgypt: 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 thefoundation of sacred history. 

Treatise on the Plague, containing the nature, signs, and accidents ofthe 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 considerablenumber. 

He also translated into English, Josephus's History of the Antiquityof the Jews, London 1602. The works both moral and natural of Seneca, London 1614. This learned gentleman died in the year 1625, and hadtributes paid to his memory by many of his cotemporary poets, whocharacterised him as a man of very considerable genius. Winstanley haspreserved 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 hemight dwell in sight of his mistress, he should have considered, thathowever agreeable the metamorphosis might be to him, it could not beso 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 theirgenteelest characters, in comedy, that appears now almostunpardonable; one is almost inclined to think the language and mannersof 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 jealousof 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 wonderBeaumont 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 authorsbeing no more) will be read with admiration, and allowed the justpre-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, beingthe son of a wealthy tanner of that place. At fifteen years of age hebecame a Commoner in Queen's-college, Oxford 1585, where havingmade great progress in academical learning, and taken the degree ofBatchelor of arts, he removed to the Middle-Temple, and applyinghimself to the study of the common law, was called to the bar; buthaving a quarrel with one Richard Martyn, (afterwards recorder ofLondon) he bastinadoed him in the Temple-hall at dinner-time, inpresence of the whole assembly, for which contempt, he was immediatelyexpelled, and retired again to Oxford to prosecute his studies, butdid not resume the scholar's-gown. Upon this occasion he composed thatexcellent poem called Nosce Teipsum[1]. Afterwards by the favour ofThomas lord Ellesmere, keeper of the Great Seal, being reinstated inthe Temple, he practised as a counsellor, and became a burgess in theParliament held at Westminster 1601. Upon the death of Queen Elizabethour author, with Lord Hunsdon, went into Scotland to congratulate KingJames on his succession to the English throne. Being introduced intohis Majesty's presence, the King enquired of Lord Hunsdon, the namesof the gentlemen who accompanied him, and when his lordship mentionedJohn Davies, the King presently asked whether he was Nosce Teipsum, and being answered he was, embraced him, and assured him of hisfavour. He was accordingly made Sollicitor, and a little afterAttorney-general in Ireland, where in the year 1606, he was made oneof his Majesty's serjeants at law, and Speaker of the House of Commonsfor that kingdom. In the year following, he received the honour ofknighthood from the King at Whitehall. In 1612 he quitted the post ofAttorney-general in Ireland, and was made one of his Majesty's Englishserjeants at law. He married Eleanor Touchet, youngest daughter ofGeorge 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 veryextraordinary character; she had, or rather pretended to have a spiritof prophecy, and her predictions received from a voice which she oftenheard, were generally wrapped up in dark and obscure expressions. Itwas 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, theseare your funeral tears, " to which he replied, "Pray therefore spareyour tears now, and I will be content that you shall laugh when Iam dead. " After Sir John's death she lived privately at Parstonin Hertfordshire, and an account was published of her strange andwonderful prophecies in 1609. In 1626 Sir John was appointed lordchief justice of the King's-bench, but before the ceremony of hisinstallation could be performed he died suddenly of an apoplexy in thefifty-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, BenJohnson, Sir John Harrington, Selden, Donne, and Corbet; these aregreat authorities in our author's favour, and I may fairly assert thatno philosophical writers ever explained their ideas more clearly andfamiliarly in prose, or more harmoniously and beautifully in verse. There is a peculiar happiness in his similies being introduced more toillustrate 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 entirelysubdued 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 titleof his Majesty's son Charles, the prince and duke of Cornwall; London1614. 

His principal performance as a poet, is a Poem on the Original, Nature, and Immortality of the Soul, dedicated to Queen Elizabeth. Itwas republished by Nahum Tate, 1714, addressed to the Earl of Dorsetand Middlesex, who was a great admirer of our poet, and the editorgives it a very just and advantageous character. Without doubt it isthe Nosce Teipsum so much admired by King James, printed 1519, and1622, mentioned by Wood; to which were added by the same hand:

Hymns of Astrea in acrostic verse; and Orchestra, or a poem expressingthe antiquity and excellency of dancing, in a dialogue betweenPenelope and one of her Woers, containing 131 stanzas unfinished. Mr. Wood mentions also epigrams, and a translation of several of KingDavid'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. ]

 * * * * *

THOMAS GOFF. 

A Gentleman who flourished in the reign of King James I. He was bornin Essex, towards the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's reign, about theyear 1592. In his youth he was sent to Westminster-school, and atthe age of eighteen, he was entered student of Christ's-college inOxford[1]. Being an industrious scholar, says Langbaine, he arrived tobe a good poet, a skilful orator, and an excellent preacher. In theyear 1623 he was made batchelor of divinity, and preferred to a livingin Surry called East-Clanden: there he married a wife who proved asgreat a plague to him as a shrew could be; she was a true Xantippeto our ecclesiastical Socrates, and gave him daily opportunities ofputing his patience to the proof; and it is believed by some, thatthis domestic scourge shortened his days. He was buried at his ownparish church at Clanden, the 27th of July, 1627. He writ severalpieces on different subjects, amongst which are reckoned five plays. Careless Shepherdess, a Tragi-comedy, acted before the King and Queenat Salisbury court with great applause. Printed in 4to, 1656, with anAlphabetical Catalogue of all such plays as ever were to that timepublished. 2. Courageous Turk, or Amurath I. A Tragedy, acted by thestudents of Christ-church in Oxford, printed in 8vo, London 1656. For the plot consult Knolles's History of the Turks. 3. Orcites, aTragedy, acted by the students of Christ's-church in Oxford, printedin 8vo, London 1656. 4. Raging Turk, or Bajazet II. A tragedy actedby the students in Christ's-church in Oxford, printed in 8vo. London1656. This play was written with the two foregoing tragedies, when theauthor was master of arts, and student of Christ's-church, but notprinted till after his decease. 5. Selinus, Emperor of the Turks, aTragedy, printed in 4to, London 1638. This play in all probability wasnever exhibited, because it is not divided into acts. The authorcalls this the first part; and in his conclusion, as he stiles it, orepilogue, 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 moredifferent in their temper, than his genius was opposite to comedy, besides the true author was one Mr. E. S. Who in his dedicatoryepistle 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 suchridiculous unmeaning mirth, is not likely to have fallen from Mr. Goff, as he was a grave man, and nothing but what was manly dropedfrom his pen. In the latter part of his life he forsook the stage forthe pulpit, and instead of plays writ sermons, some of which appearedin print in the year 1627. To these works may be added his Latinfuneral oration, at the divinity school, at the obsequies of SirHenry Saville, printed in 4to, Oxon 1622; another in Christ's-churchcathedral, 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 bothat Oxford and Cambridge, and introduced to court by an uncle in theservice of Queen Elisabeth, who received him into her favour, whichhe had the happiness to preserve uninterupted to her death. At thecoronation of James I, he was created Knight of the Bath, and soonafter obtained a grant of the ruinous castle of Warwick. He was nextappointed sub-treasurer, chancellor of the Exchequer, and privycounsellor, and then advanced to the degree of a baron, by the titleof lord Brooke of Beauchamps-court, and one of the lords of thebed-chamber to his Majesty. This noble author was the friend of SirPhilip Sidney, than which a greater compliment cannot be bestowed. Ashe was a poet and a man of wit he was held in the highest esteem inthat courtly age; but he added to genius, a gallantry of spirit, andwas as fine a soldier as a writer. Winstanley gives an instance of hisprowess 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 somewhatextraordinary, that he died a batchelor; for in all that courtly age, he could not find one on whom to confer the valuable prize of hisheart. As he was himself a learned man, and possessed a variety ofknowledge, so he patronized many necessitous candidates for fame, butparticularly Camden, whom he caused by his interest to be made Kingat Arms. He was likewise very liberal to Mr. Speed the celebratedchronologer: finding him a man of extensive knowledge, and hisoccupation and circumstances mean, so that his genius was depressed bypoverty, he enabled him to prosecute his studies, and pursue the bentof his genius without being obliged to drudge at a manual employmentfor his bread. Speed in his description of Warwickshire writes thusof lord Brook, "Whose merit (says he) towards me I do acknowledge, insetting 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' lifein a calm of prosperity and honour, beloved by his equals, reverencedby his inferiors, and a favourite at court; but when he was aboutseventy years of age, this life of undisturbed tranquility, wassacrificed to the resentment of a villain, and a catastrophe of themost tragical kind closed the days of this worthy man. 

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

The murderer then struck with remorse, horror and despair, and all thenatural attendants of his guilt, retired to his chamber, and havingsecured the door, fell upon the same weapon with which he hadassassinated his master, and anticipated on himself the justicereserved for the hand of an executioner. Lord Brooke was interred inWarwickshire, under a monument of black and white marble[1], whereonhe 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 doneafter the manner of Euripides, who introduced one of the chiefactors as the Prologue, whose business it was to explain all thosecircumstances which preceded the opening the stage. He has not in onescene throughout introduced above two speakers, in compliance withHorace's rule in his _Art of Poetry_;

 nec quarta loqui persona laboret. 

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

Mustapha, a Tragedy, printed in folio 1633. This play likewise seemsto be built on the model of the ancients, and the plot is the samewith that of lord Orrery's tragedy of the same title, and taken fromPaulus Jovius, Thuanus, &c. Both these plays are printed together infolio, London, 1633, with several other poems, as a Treatise on HumanLearning; An Inquisition upon Fame and Honour; A Treatise of Wars. Allthese are written in a stanza of six lines, four interwoven, and acouplet in base, which the Italians call Sestine Coelica, containingone hundred and nine sonnets of different measures. There are inthis volume two letters; the one to an honourable Lady, containingdirections how to behave in a married state; the other addressed tohis cousin Grevil Varney, then in France, containing Directions forTravelling. His lordship has other pieces ascribed to him besidesthose published under his name, The Life of Sir Philip Sidney, printedat the beginning of the Arcadia. His Remains, or Poems of Monarchy andReligion, printed in 8vo. London 1670. Philips and Winstanley ascribea play to him, called Marcus Tullius Cicero, but this is withoutfoundation, for that play was not written, at least not printed, 'tilllong after his lordship's death. Having now given some account of hisworks, I shall sum up his character in the words of Mrs. Cooper, inher 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. ]

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JOHN DAY. 

This author lived in the reign of King James I. And was some timestudent in Caius College in Cambridge. No particulars are preservedconcerning this poet, but that he had connection with other poets ofsome 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'sServants; printed in 4to. London, 1659; for the plot, as far as itconcerns history, consult the writers in the reign of King Henry VI. 

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

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

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

5. Parliament of Bees, with their proper characters, or a Bee-Hivefurnished with Twelve Honey-Combs, as pleasant as profitable, being anallegorical description of the ancients of good and bad men in thosedays, 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, printedin 4to. London, 1607, and dedicated to Honour's Favourites and theentire friends of the family of the Shirleys. In the composition ofthis play our author was assisted by William Rowley, and Mr. GeorgeWilkins; the foundation of it may be read in several English Writers, and Chronicles, and it is particularly set down in Dr. Fuller'sWorthies, in his description of Sussex. When our author died cannot bejustly ascertained, but Mr. Langbaine has preserved an elegy writtenon 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 wrotean ingenious poem upon the transactions between a Landlord and hisTenant Day, who privately departed from him by Night, printed in asingle sheet, London, 1684. To shew the parallel, the following linesare 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 seatedin that county before the conquest[1], and was fourth son of WalterRaleigh, esquire, of Fards, in the parish of Cornwood. He was born inthe year 1552 at Hayes, a pleasant farm of his father's in the parishof Budley, in that part of Devonshire bordering Eastward upon the Sea, near where the Ottery discharges itself into the British Channel; hewas educated at the university of Oxford, where, according to Dr. Fuller, he became a commoner of Oriel College, as well as ChristChurch, and displayed in his early years a great vivacity of genius inhis application to his studies. Some have said, that after leaving theuniversity, he settled himself in the Middle-Temple, and studied thelaw, but this opinion must be erroneous, since he declares afterwardson his trial, that he never read a word of law 'till he was prisonerin the Tower. In 1569, when he was not above 17 years of age, he wasone of the select troop of a hundred gentlemen voluntiers, whom QueenElizabeth permitted Henry Champernon to transport into France, for theassistance of protestant Princes there[2], but of what service theywere, or what was the consequence of the expedition, we have noaccount. So great a scene of action as the whole kingdom of France wasat that period, gave Raleigh an opportunity of acquiring experience, and reading characters, as well as improving himself in the knowledgeof languages and manners, and his own History of the World containssome remarks which he then made of the conduct of some great generalsthere, of which he had himself been witness. After our author's returnfrom France, he embarked in an expedition to the northern parts ofAmerica, with Sir Humphry Gilbert, his brother by the mother's side, that gentleman having obtained the Queen's Patent to plant and inhabitsuch parts of it as were unpossessed by any Prince with whom she wasin alliance; but this attempt proved unsuccessful by means of thedivision which arose amongst the Voluntiers. The next year, 1580, uponthe descent of the Spanish and Italian forces in Ireland under thePope's banner, for the support of the Desmonds in their rebellion inMunster, he had a captain's commission under the lord Grey of Wilton, to whom at that time the famous Spenser was secretary; but the chiefservices which, captain Raleigh performed, were under Thomas earl ofOrmond, governor of Munster. He surprized the Irish Kerns at Ramile, and having inclosed them, took every rebel upon the spot, who did notfall in the conflict. Among the prisoners there was one laden withWithies, who being asked, what he intended to have done with them?boldly answered, to have hung up the English Charles; upon whichRaleigh ordered him to be immediately dispatched in that manner, andthe rest of the robbers and murderers to be punished according totheir deserts[3]. The earl of Ormond departing for England in thespring of the year 1581, his government of Munster was given tocaptain Raleigh; in which he behaved with great vigilance and honour, he fought the Arch rebel Barry at Clove, whom he charged with theutmost bravery, and after a hard struggle, put to flight. In the monthof August, 1581, captain John Gouch being appointed Governour ofMunster by the Lord Deputy, Raleigh attended him in several journiesto settle and compose that country; but the chief place of theirresidence 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 companybeing not long after disbanded upon the reduction of that earl, theslaughter of his brother, and the submission of Barry, he returned toEngland. The Lord Deputy Grey having resigned the sword in Irelandtowards the end of August, 1582, the dispute between him and Raleigh, upon reasons which are variously assigned by different writers, wasbrought to a hearing before the council table in England, where thelatter supported his cause with such abilities as procured him thegood opinion both of her Majesty, and the Lords of the Council, andthis, added to the patronage of the earl of Leicester, is supposedto be one considerable occasion of his preferment, though it did notimmediately take place, nor could the hopes of it restrain him froma second expedition with his brother Sir Humphry Gilbert toNewfoundland, for which he built a ship of 200 tons called The BarkRaleigh, and furnished it compleatly for the voyage, in which heresolved to attend his brother as his Vice-Admiral. That fleetdeparted from Plymouth the 11th of June, 1583, but after it had beentwo or three days at sea, a contagious distemper having seized thewhole crew of Raleigh's ship, obliged him to return to that port;however by this accident, he escaped the misfortune of thatexpedition; for after Sir Humphry had taken possession ofNewfoundland, in the right of the crown of England, and assigned landsto every man of his company, and failed three hundred leagues in thevoyage home with full hopes of the Queen's assistance to fit out afleet next year, he unfortunately perished; for venturing rashly in afrigate of but ten tons, he was on the ninth of September that year atmidnight swallowed up in an high sea, another vessel suffered the samefate, and even the rest returned not without great hazard and loss[5]:but this ill success could not divert Raleigh from pursuing a schemeof such importance to his country as those discoveries in NorthAmerica. He drew up an account of the advantage of such a design, and the means of prosecuting it, which he laid before the Queen andCouncil, who were so well satisfied with the probability of success, that on the 25th of March, 1584, her Majesty granted him letterspatent, in favour of his project, containing free liberty to discoversuch remote heathen and barbarous lands, as were not actuallypossessed by any Christian prince, nor inhabited by Christian people. Immediately upon this grant, Raleigh chose two able and experiencedcaptains, and furnished them with two vessels fitted out at his ownexpence, with such expedition that on the 27th of April following theyset sail for the West of England, taking their course by the CanaryIslands, where they arrived on the 10th of May, towards the WestIndies; and that being in those days the best and most frequented routto America, they passed by the Carribbe Islands in the beginning ofJune, and reached the Gulph of Florida on the 2d of July, sailingalong the shore about one hundred and twenty miles before they couldfind a convenient harbour. At last they debarked in a very low land, which proved to be an island called Wohoken; and after taking formalpossession of the country, they carried on a friendly correspondencewith the native Indians, who supplied them with a great variety offish and venison, and gave them furs, and deerskins in exchange fortrifles. Thus encouraged by the natives, eight of the company ina boat, went up the river Occam twenty miles, and next day in theevening they came to an island called Roanah, which was but sevenleagues from the place where their ships lay. Here they found theresidence of the Indian chief, whose name was Grangamineo, whose houseconsisted of nine apartments built of Cedar, fortified round withsharp pieces of timber: His wife came out to them, and ordered thepeople to carry them from the boat on their backs, and shewed themmany other civilities. They continued their intercourse with thenatives for some time, still viewing the situation of the adjacentcountry, and after having obtained the best information they could ofthe number and strength of the Indian nations in that neighbourhood, and of their connexions, alliances, or contests with each other, theyreturned about the middle of September to England, and made such anadvantageous report of the fertility of the soil, and healthiness ofthe climate, that the Queen favoured the design of settling a colonyin that country, to which she was pleased to give the name ofVirginia[6]. 

About two months after, Raleigh was chosen Knight of the Shire for hiscounty of Devon, and made a considerable figure in parliament, where abill passed in confirmation of his patent for the discovery of foreigncountries. During the course of this sessions, he received the honourof knighthood from her Majesty, a distinction the more honourable tohim, as the Queen was extreamly cautious in confering titles; andbesides the patent for discoveries, she granted him, about the sametime, a power to license the vending of wines throughout the kingdom, which was in all probability very lucrative to him; but it engaged himin a dispute with the university of Cambridge, which had opposed oneKeymer, whom he had licensed to sell wine there, contrary to theprivileges of that university. 

The parliament being prorogued, Raleigh, intent upon planting hisnew colony in Virginia, set out his own fleet of seven sail for thatcountry, under the command of his cousin Sir Richard Greenville, whoafter having visited the country, left behind him an hundred and sevenpersons to settle a colony at Roanah; in his return to England, he took a Spanish prize worth 50000 l. But this was not the onlycircumstance of good fortune which happened to Raleigh this year; forthe rebellion in Ireland being now suppressed, and the forfeitedlands divided into Signiories, among those principally who had beeninstrumental in the important service of reducing that country; herMajesty granted him one of the largest portions, consisting of twelvethousand acres in the counties of Cork and Waterford, with certainprivileges and immunities, upon condition, of planting and improvingthe same, to which the other grantees were obliged. 

In the year 1586 we find our author so highly advanced in the Queen'sfavour, so extremely popular on account of his patronage of learnedmen, ard the active spirit he exerted in business, that her Majestymade him seneschal in the dutchy of Cornwall. But these distinctionsincurred the usual effects of court preferment, and exposed Sir Walterto the envy of those who were much inferior to him in merit; and eventhe earl of Leicester himself, who had formerly been his great patron, became jealous of him, and set up in opposition to him, his nephewthe young earl of Essex. The Comedians likewise took the liberty toreflect upon Raleigh's power, and influence upon the Queen; which herMajesty resented so highly as to forbid Tarleton, the most celebratedactor 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 toreturn home; and the general alarm spread over the nation on accountof the Spanish invasion, threw all things into disorder. 

About the beginning of the year 1587 he was raised to the dignity ofcaptain of her majesty's guard, which he held together with the placeof lord-warden of the Stannaries, and lieutenant-general of the countyof Cornwall. From this time till the year 1594, we find Sir Waltercontinually engaged in projecting new expeditions, sending succoursto colonies abroad, or managing affairs in Parliament with consummateaddress. 

In the year 1593, we find Father Parsons the jesuit charging him withno less a crime than atheism, and that he had founded a school inwhich he taught atheistical principles, and had made a great manyyoung gentlemen converts to them; the most considerable authorityto countenance the suspicions of Sir Walter's religion, is that ofArchbishop Abbot, who in a letter dated at Lambeth, addressed to SirThomas Roe, then an ambassador at the Mogul's court, expressly chargesSir Walter with doubting God's being and omnipotence[7]; but it ishighly probable Sir Walter's opinions might be misrepresented by hisenemies, or wrong conclusions drawn from those which he maintained;and it would be a shocking injustice to the memory of so great a manto suspect him of irreligion, whose writings contain not the leasttrace of it, and whose History of the World in particular breathes astrong spirit of real and genuine piety. 

In the heighth of his favour with the Queen, he fell under hermajesty's displeasure, for being enamoured of Mrs. ElizabethThrogmorton, one of the Queen's maids of honour, whom he debauched;and such it seems was the chastity of these times, that a frailty ofthat sort was looked upon as the highest offence Her Majesty was soexasperated, that she commanded him to be confined several months, andafter his enlargement forbid him the court, whence the poor lady waslikewise dismissed from her attendance about the maiden queen, whoappeared in this case the champion of virginity. Sir Walter soon madeher an honourable reparation by marriage, and they were both examplesof conjugal affection and fidelity. During the time our authorcontinued under her majesty's displeasure for this offence, heprojected the discovery of the rich and extensive empire of Guiana, in the south of America, which the Spaniards had then visited, andto that day had never conquered. For this purpose, having collectedinformations relating to it, he sent an old officer to take a viewof the coast, who returned the year following with a very favourableaccount of the riches of the country, which he had received from someof the principal Cassiques upon the borders of it. This determinedRaleigh's resolution, who provided a squadron of ships at a verygreat expence, and the lord high admiral Howard, and Sir Robert Cecilconceived so good an opinion of the design, that both concurred init. He personally engaged in the attempt, and with no great numberof ships so far explored the unknown country, that he made greaterprogress in a few months than the Spaniards had done for many years, and having satisfied himself of the certainty of the gold mines of thecountry, he returned home with honour and riches the latter end of thesummer 1595, and in the year following published in quarto An Accountof the Voyage and Discoveries, dedicated to lord admiral Howard andSir 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 toCadiz, in which the earl of Essex and lord admiral Howard werejoint commanders, and Raleigh of the council of war, and one of theadmirals. In this, as in all his other expeditions, he behaved withequal conduct and courage. After his return from the successfulexpedition under the earl of Essex, he promoted a reconciliationbetween that nobleman and secretary Cecil, in consequence of whichhe was himself fully reinstated in the Queen's favour, and had thecommand of captain of the guard restored to him with other marks ofher forgiveness. 

In 1597 he was employed in the island voyage as rear admiral, the earlof Essex having the chief command, and the lord Thomas Howard the postof 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 intendedfor a new expedition against England and Ireland; and to seize uponsuch Indian fleets of treasure, as they should meet with belonging tothe king of Spain, to conquer, restrain, and garrison, most of theIsles of the Azores, and especially the Terceras. But the success ofthis expedition did not answer the greatness of the preparations forit; the jealousy of the earl of Essex the commander, obstructing theservices which Sir Walter's abilities might otherwise have performed. In the council of war, which was held before the isle of Flores, itwas resolved that the general and Sir Walter should jointly attack theisland of Fyal; where the latter waited seven days for his lordship, and hearing nothing of him, called a council of war, in which it wasdetermined that Raleigh should attempt the town himself, which he didwith astonishing bravery and success. Essex finding himself deprivedof the honour of taking Fyal, was exasperated to such a degree, thathe broke some of the officers who had behaved with great gallantryunder Raleigh, and some of his sycophants alledged that Raleighhimself deserved to lose his head for breach of articles in landingwithout his lordships orders. Upon their return to England the earlendeavoured to transfer the miscarriages of the expedition uponRaleigh, and gained to his side the populace, whom Sir Walter nevercourted, and whose patronage he scorned; but the Queen herself was notwell pleased with the earl's conduct, since it was judged he mighthave done more than he did; and his proceedings against Sir Walter incalling his actions to public question, were highly disapproved [8]. 

The next important transaction we find Raleigh engaged in, was in1601, when the unfortunate earl of Essex, who had calumniated himto the king of Scotland, and endeavoured all he could to shake hisinterest, was so ill advised by his creatures, as to attempt a publicinsurrection. Raleigh was active in suppressing it: the earl pretendedthat the cause of his taking arms was to defend himself against theviolence of his personal enemies, the lord Cobham and Raleigh havingformed a design of murdering him; tho' on the other hand it is prettycertain, that Sir Ferdinand Gorges, one of the earl's accomplices, afterwards accused Sir Christopher Blount, another of them, forpersuading him to kill, or at least apprehend, Sir Walter; whichGorges refusing, Blount discharged four shots after him in a boat. Blount acknowledged this, and at the time of his execution asked SirWalter forgiveness for it; which he readily granted. ----While the earlgarisoned his house, Sir Walter was one of those who invested it, and when his lordship was brought to his trial, he with forty of thequeen's guard was present upon duty, and was likewise examined withrelation to a conference which he had upon the Thames the morningof the insurrection with Sir Ferdinando Gorges. At the execution ofEssex, six days after, in the Tower, Raleigh attended, probably in hischaracter of captain of the guard, and stood near the scaffold thathe might the better answer if Essex should be desirous of speakingto him, but retired before the earl's execution, because the peopleseemed to take his appearance there in a wrong light; tho' heafterwards repented of it, as the earl expressed an inclination to seeand speak with him before his death, which was in all probability tohave asked Raleigh's forgiveness for having traduced, and calumniatedhim 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 ofSherbone on his son Walter, on account of a challenge which he hadreceived from Sir Amias Preston, who had been knighted at Cadiz bythe earl of Essex; which challenge Sir Walter intended to accept, andtherefore disposed his affairs in proper order. The cause of theirquarrel does not appear, but they were afterwards reconciled withoutproceeding to a duel[9]. 

The death of Queen Elizabeth on the 24th of March 1602-3 proveda great misfortune to Raleigh; James her successor having beenprejudiced against him by the earl of Essex, who insinuated thatRaleigh was no friend to his succession, nor had any regard for hisfamily. And these prejudices were heightened by secretary Cecil in hisprivate correspondence with that pusilanimous, jealous prince, beforehe ascended the Throne of England, or at least immediately upon thatevent; for tho' Raleigh and Cecil had united against Essex, yetafter the ruin of that earl and his party, their seeming friendshipterminated in a mutual struggle for a superiority of power. But thereis another important cause of James's disgust to Sir Walter, which is, that he, lord Cobham, and Sir John Fortescue, would have obliged theking to articles before he was admitted to the throne, and that thenumber of his countrymen should be limitted; which added to thecircumstance of Sir Walter's zeal to take off his mother, inspired hismajesty with a confirmed aversion to him; and indeed the tragical endof the queen of Scots is, perhaps, the greatest error with which theannals of that glorious reign is stained. Raleigh in vain endeavouredto gain the affection of the new king, which he attempted bytransfering on secretary Cecil the blood of the earl of Essex, as wellas that of his royal mother; but this attempt to secure the affectionsof a weak prince, ended in his ruin, for it exasperated Cecil the moreagainst him; and as Sir Walter was of an active martial genius, theking, who was a lover of peace, and a natural coward, was afraid thatso military a man would involve him in a war, which he hated above allthings in the world. Our author was soon removed from his command ascaptain of the guard, which was bestowed upon Sir Thomas Erskin, hismajesty's favourite as well as countryman[10], the predecessor to theearl of Mar, whose actions, performed in the year 1715, are recent inevery one's memory. 

Not long after his majesty's ascending the throne of England, SirWalter was charged with a plot against the king and royal family; butno clear evidence was ever produced that Raleigh had any concern init. The plot was to have surprized the king and court, to have createdcommotions in Scotland, animated the discontented in England, andadvanced Arabella Stuart, cousin to the king, to the throne. Arabellawas the daughter of lord Charles Stuart, younger brother to Henry lordDarnly, and son to the duke of Lenox. She was afterwards married toWilliam Seymour, son to lord Beauchamp, and grandson to the earl ofHertford; and both were confined for the presumption of marryingwithout his majesty's consent, from which they made their escape, butwere again retaken. Lady Arabella died of grief, and Mr. Seymour livedto be a great favourite with Charles I. Raleigh persisted in avowinghis ignorance of the plot, and when he came to his trial, he behavedhimself so prudently, and defended himself with so much force, thatthe minds of the people present, who were at first exasperated againsthim, were turned from the severest hatred to the tenderest pity. Notwithstanding Sir Walter's proof that he was innocent of any suchplot, and that lord Cobham, who had once accused him had recanted, andsigned his recantation, nor was produced against him face to face, apack'd jury brought him in guilty of high treason. Sentence of deathbeing pronounced against him, he humbly requested that the kingmight be made acquainted with the proofs upon which he was cast. Heaccompanied the Sheriff to prison with wonderful magnanimity, tho'in a manner suited to his unhappy situation. Raleigh was kept neara month at Winchester in daily expectation of death, and in a verypathetic letter wrote his last words to his wife the night before heexpected to suffer[11], in which he hoped his blood would quenchtheir malice who had murdered him, and prayed God to forgive hispersecutors, and accusers. The king signed the warrant for theexecution of the lords Cobham and Grey, and Sir Griffin Markham, atWinchester, pretending, says lord Cecil, to forbear Sir Walter forthe present, till lord Cobham's death had given some light how far hewould make good his accusation. Markham was first brought upon thescaffold, and when he was on his knees, ready to receive the blowof the ax, the groom of the bedchamber produced to the sheriff hisMajesty's warrant to stop the execution; and Markham was told that hemust withdraw a while into the hall to be confronted by the Lords. Then Lord Grey was brought forth, and having poured out his prayersand confession, was likewise called aside, and lastly Lord Cobham wasexposed in the same manner, and performed his devotions, though we donot find that he said one word of his guilt or innocence, or chargedRaleigh with having instigated him; all which circumstances seem morethan sufficient to wipe off from the memory of Raleigh the leastsuspicion 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 theremany years, during which, it is said, he was examined by the King inrelation to Raleigh, and entirely cleared him; he afterwards died inthe lowest circumstances of distress. 

In February following a grant was made by the King of all the goodsand chattels forfeited by Sir Walter's conviction to the trustees ofhis appointing for the benefit of his creditors, lady and children. After 12 years confinement in the Tower, in March 1615 he was releasedout of it, by the interposition of the favourite Buckingham; butbefore he quitted that place he saw the earl of Somerset committedthere for the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury, and afterwards condemned, which occasioned Sir Walter to compare his own case with that of theearl's, and to remark, 'That the whole History of the World had notthe like precedent of a King's prisoner to purchase freedom, and hisbosom favourite 'to have the halter, but in scripture, in the caseof Mordecai and Haman;' on hearing which, the King is said to havereplied, that Raleigh might die in that deceit, which afterwardsproved true, for the King pardoned the infamous Somerset, a murderer, and executed Raleigh, a brave and an honest man, equally to theastonishment of the world. Sir Walter being now at large, had themeans of prosecuting his old scheme of settling Guiana, which hehad so much at heart, that even during his imprisonment, he held aconstant correspondence with that country, sending thither every year, or every second year, a ship, to keep the Indians in hopes of beingrelieved from the tyranny of the Spaniards, who had again encroachedupon them, and massacred many, both of the inhabitants and ofRaleigh's men. In these ships were brought several natives of thecountry, with whom he conversed in the Tower, and obtained allpossible informations concerning it. Upon such informations he offeredhis scheme for prosecuting his discovery to the court before heundertook it in person: nor were there any doubts either as to theimprobability of the design, or its unlawfulness, notwithstanding thepeace made with Spain, otherwise the King would not have made suchgrants, as he did, even at that time, which shews that he was thenconvinced, that Sir Walter had in his first voyage discovered andtaken possession of that country for the crown of England, andconsequently that his subjects were justly intitled to any benefitsthat might arise from its discovery, without the least respect to thepretensions of the Spaniards: Besides, when Sir Walter first moved thecourt upon this subject, the Spanish match was not thought of, and theKing's necessities being then very pressing, he may be presumed tohave conceived great hopes from that discovery, though he mightafterwards change his opinion, when he grew so unreasonably fond ofthat match. 

In 1616, he obtained a royal commission to settle Guiana at theexpence of himself and his friends; he was appointed General, andCommander in Chief of this enterprize, and Governor of the newcountry, which he was to settle with ample authority; a power wasgranted him too, of exercising martial law in such a manner as theKing's Lieutenant General by sea or land, or any Lieutenants of thecounties of England had. These powers seem to imply a virtual pardonto 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 ascendencyover him, and began to make a great clamour about Raleigh'spreparations, and from that moment formed schemes of destroying him. The whole expence of this expedition was defrayed by Raleigh and hisfriends; the fleet consisted of about seven sail. On the 17th ofNovember, 1617, they came in sight of Guiana, and soon after toanchor, in five degrees off the river Caliana, where they remainedtill the 4th of December. Raleigh was received with great joy by theIndians, who not only assisted him with provisions, and every thingelse in their power, but offered him the sovereignty of their countryif he would settle amongst them, which he declined to accept. [12] Hisextreme sickness for six weeks prevented him from undertaking thediscovery of the mines in person, and was obliged to depute captainKeymis to that service; and accordingly on the 4th of December, ordered five small ships to sail into the river Oronoque. When theylanded, they found a Spanish garrison between them and the mine, which sallying out unexpectedly, put them in confusion, and gave thembattle. In this conflict young Raleigh was killed, and by a fatalmistake, captain Keymis did not prove the mine, but burnt andplundered the Spanish garrison, and found amongst the governor'spapers one, which informed him, that Raleigh's expedition had beenbetrayed, and that he was to be sacrificed to the Spaniards. UponKeymis's unsuccessful attempt, Raleigh sharply rebuked him for hismistake, and a deviation from his orders, which so much affected thatcaptain, that he shot himself in his own cabin, and finding the woundnot mortal, he finished his design by a long knife with which hestabbed himself to the heart. In this distressful situation Raleighreturned home, and found on his arrival at Plymouth, a declarationpublished against him; at which he took the alarm, and contrived toconvey himself out of the kingdom in a vessel hired for that purposeby an old officer of his; but changing his opinion in that respect, heproceeded 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 counterfeitedsickness for several days, during which he wrote his apology. Howeveron the 7th of August he arrived at London, where he was confined inhis own house; but having still good reasons not to trust himself tothe 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 belowWoolwich, was a second time, on the 10th of August, committed to theTower; but tho' his death seemed absolutely determined, yet it seemeddifficult to find a method of accomplishing it, since his conduct inthe late expedition could not be stretched in law to such a sentence. It was resolved therefore, to sacrifice him to the resentment ofSpain, in a manner so shameful, that it has justly exposed theconduct of the court to the indignation of all succeeding ages, andtransmitted the pusillanimous monarch with infamy to posterity. Theycalled him down to judgment upon his former sentence passed fifteenyears before, which they were not then ashamed to execute. A privyseal was sent to the judges to order immediate execution, on whicha conference was held Friday the 24th of Oct. 1688, between all thejudges of England, concerning the manner, how prisoners who havebeen attainted of treason and set at liberty, should be brought toexecution. In consequence of their revolution, a privy seal came tothe King's-Bench, commanding that court to proceed against Sir Walteraccording to law, who next day received notice of the council toprepare himself for death; and on Wednesday the 28th of that month, at8 o'clock in the morning, was taken out of bed in the hot fit of anague, and carried to the King's-Bench, Westminster, where executionwas awarded against him. The next morning, the 29th of October, theday of the lord-mayor's inauguration, a solemnity never perhapsattended before with a public execution, Sir Walter was conducted bythe sheriffs of Middlesex to the Old Palace Yard in Westminster, wheremounting the scaffold, he behaved with the most undaunted spirit, andseeming cheerfulness. The bishop of Salisbury (Tohon) being surprizedat 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 othersit might seem grievous, yet for himself he had rather die so than in aburning fever. This verifies the noble observation of Shakespear, thatall heroes have a contempt of death; which he puts in the mouthof Julius Cæsar when his friends dissuaded him from going to theSenate-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, andmade no more of death, than if he had been to take a journey. On thescaffold he conversed freely with the Earl of Arundel and others ofthe nobility, and vindicated himself from two suspicions; the first, of entering into a confederacy with France; the second, of speakingdisloyally of his Majesty. He cleared himself likewise of thesuspicion of having persecuted the Earl of Essex, or of insulting himat his death. He concluded with desiring the good people to join withhim in prayer, to that great God of Heaven, "whom (says he) I havegrievously offended, being a man full of vanity, who has lived asinful life, in such callings as have been most inducing to it: For Ihave been a soldier, a sailor, and a courtier; which are courses ofwickedness and vice. " The proclamation being made that all men shoulddepart the scaffold, he prepared himself for death, gave away his hatand cap, and money to some attendants that stood near him. When hetook leave of the lords, and other gentlemen that stood near him, heentreated the Lord Arundel to prevail with the King that no scandalouswritings to defame him, should be published after his death;concluding, "I have a long journey to go, and therefore will take myleave. " Then having put off his gown and doublet, he called to theexecutioner to shew him the axe, which not being presently done; hesaid, "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 physicianfor all diseases. " The executioner kneeling down and asking himforgiveness, Sir Walter laying his hand upon his shoulder grantedit; and being asked which way he would lay himself on the block, heanswered, "So the heart be right, it is no matter which way the headlies. " His head was struck off at two blows, his body never shrinkingnor moving. His head was shewn on each side of the scaffold, and thenput into a red leather bag, and with his velvet night-gown thrownover, 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 sacrificeto a contemptible administration, and the resentment of a mean prince:A man of so great abilities, that neither that nor the preceding reignproduced his equal. His character was a combination of almost everyeminent quality; he was the soldier, statesmen, and scholar united, and had he lived with the heroes of antiquity, he would have made ajust parallel to Cæsar, and Xenophon, like them being equal master ofthe sword and the pen. One circumstance must not be omitted, which ina life so full of action as his, is somewhat extraordinary, viz. That whether he was on board his ships upon important and arduousexpeditions, busy in court transactions, or pursuing schemes ofpleasure, he never failed to dedicate at least four hours every dayto study, by which he became so much master of all knowledge, and wasenabled, as a poet beautifully expresses it, to enrich the world withhis prison-hours[13]. As the sentence of Raleigh blackens but hisKing, so his memory will be ever dear to the lovers of learning, andof their country: and tho' he makes not a very great figure as a poet, having business of greater importance continually upon his hands; yetit would have been an unpardonable negligence to omit him, as he doeshonour to the list, and deserves all the encomiums an honest mind cangive, or the most masterly pen bestow; and it were to be wished someman of eminent talents, whose genius is turned to biography, (of suchat present we are not destitute) would undertake the life of thishero, and by mixing pleasing and natural reflexions with theincidents, as they occur, not a little instruct and delight hiscountrymen; as Raleigh's life is the amplest field for such an attemptto succeed in. 

His works are, Orders to be observed by the commanders of the fleets and landcompanies, under the conduct of Sir Walter Raleigh, bound for theSouth 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 takingaway the lands and castle of Sherburn from him and his heirs, whichwere granted to the Earl of Bristol. 

Maxims of State. 

The Prerogatives of Parliament. 

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

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

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

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 PrinceHenry. 

Observations touching Trade and Commerce with the Hollanders and otherNations. 

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 theReign 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 theVision 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 theWorld, composed in the Tower; it has never been without its admirers;and I shall close the account of our author's works, by theobservation of the ingenious author of the Rambler upon thishistory, in a paper in which he treats of English Historians, No. 122. --"Raleigh (says he) is deservedly celebrated for the labour ofhis researches, and the elegance of his stile; but he has endeavouredto exert his judgment more than his genius, to select facts, ratherthan adorn them. He has produced a historical dissertation, but hasseldom 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 voyageto 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 Londonin the year 1573. His father was a merchant, descended from a veryancient family in Wales, and his mother from Sir Thomas More, Chancellor of England. He was educated in his father's house under atutor till the 11th year of his age[1], when he was sent to Oxford; atwhich 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 admittedcommoner of Harthall, together with his younger brother, in Michaelmasterm 1584. [2] By advice of his relations, who were Roman Catholics, hedeclined taking the oath tendered upon the occasion of taking degrees. After he had studied three years at the University, he removed toCambridge, and from thence three years after to Lincoln's-Inn. Aboutthis time his father died, and left him a portion of 3000£. He becamesoon 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 tono particular denomination of Christians, and as his relationswere bigotted to the Romish faith, he was induced to examine thecontroversy, and to embrace publickly that which appeared to him to bebest supported by the authority of the scriptures. He relinquishedthe study of the law, and devoted himself entirely to that of thecontroverted points between the Protestants and Catholics, which endedin a thorough conviction of the truths of the reformed religion. 

In the years 1596 and 1597 Mr. Donne attended the Earl of Essex inhis expeditions against Cadiz and the Azores Islands, and stayed someyears in Italy and Spain, and soon after his return to England he wasmade secretary to lord chancellor Egerton. This probably was intendedby his lordship only as an introduction to a more dignified place; forhe frequently expressed a high opinion of his secretary's abilities;and when he afterwards, by the sollicitation of his lady, parted withhim, he observed that he was fitter to be a secretary to a Monarchthan to him. When he was in the lord chancellor's family, he marriedprivately without the consent of her father, the daughter of SirGeorge More, chancellor of the Garter, and lord lieutenant of theTower, who so much resented his daughter's marriage withouthis consent, that he procured our author's dismission from thechancellor's service, and got him committed to prison. Sir George'sdaughter lived in the lord chancellor's family, and was niece to hislady. Upon Sir George's hearing that his daughter had engaged herheart to Donne, he removed her to his own house in Surry, and friendson 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 notlong in obtaining his liberty, but was obliged to be at the expenceof a tedious law-suit to recover the possession of his wife, who wasforcibly detained from him. At length our poet's extraordinary meritand winning behaviour so far subdued Sir George's resentment, that heused his interest with the Chancellor to have his son-in-law restoredto his place; But this request was refused; his lordship observing, that he did not chuse to discharge and re-admit servants at therequest of his passionate petitioners. Sir George had been so farreconciled to his daughter and son, as not to deny his paternalblessing, 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 ina great measure prevented by the seasonable bounty of their kinsmanSir Francis Wooley, who entertained them several years at his house atPilford in Surry, where our author had several children born tohim. During his residence at Pilford he applied himself with greatdiligence and success to the study of the civil and canon law, and wasabout this time sollicited by Dr. Morton, (afterwards lord bishop ofDurham) to go into holy Orders, and accept of a Benefice the Doctorwould have resigned to him; but he thought proper to refuse thisobliging 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 author800£. At a certain day as his wife's portion, or 20£. Quarterly fortheir maintenance, till it was all paid. 

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

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

"Two days after their arrival there, Mr. Donne was left alone in thatroom in which Sir Robert and he and some other friends had dinedtogether. To this place Sir Robert returned within half an hour; andas he left so he found Mr. Donne alone, but in such an extasy, and soaltered as to his looks, as amazed Sir Robert to behold him; insomuchthat he earnestly desired Mr. Donne to declare what had befallen himin the short time of his absence; to which he was not able to make apresent 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 wifepass twice by me through this room with her hair hanging about hershoulders, 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 ofsome melancholy dream, which I desire you to forget, for you are nowawake. To which Mr. Donne's reply was, I cannot be surer that I nowlive, than that I have not slept since I saw you; and am as surethat at her second appearing she stopt and looked me in the face andvanished. " Rest and sleep had not altered Mr. Donne's opinion nextday, for then he confirmed his vision with so deliberate a confidence, that he inclined Sir Robert to a faint belief that the vision wastrue. It is an observation, that desire and doubt have no rest, forhe immediately sent a servant to Drury-House, with a charge to hastenback and bring him word "whether Mrs. Donne was dead or alive, and ifalive in what condition she was as to her health. " The twelfth day themessenger returned with this account; "that he found and left Mrs. Donne very sad and sick in her bed; and that after a long anddangerous labour she had been delivered of a dead child, and uponexamination the birth proved, to be on the same day, and aboutthe very hour Mr. Donne affirmed he saw her pass by him in hischamber. "----After Donne's return from France, many of the nobilitypressed the King to confer some secular employment upon him; but hisMajesty, who considered him as better qualified for the service ofthe church than the state, rejected their requests, tho' the Earl ofSomerset, then the great favourite, joined in petitioning for hispreferment. About this time the disputes concerning the oaths ofallegiance and supremacy being agitated, Mr. Donne by his Majesty'sspecial command, wrote a treatise on that subject, entitled, PseudoMartyr, printed in 4to, 1610, with which his Majesty was highlypleased, and being firmly resolved to promote him in the church, he pressed him to enter into holy orders, but he being resolved toqualify himself the better for the sacred office by studying divinity, and the learned languages deferred his entering upon it three yearslonger, during which time he made a vigorous application to thesebranches of knowledge, and was then ordained both deacon and priest, by Dr. John King, then bishop of London. Presently after he wasappointed one of the chaplains in ordinary to his Majesty, and aboutthe same time attending the King in a progress, he was created Dr. In divinity, by the university of Cambridge, by the particularrecommendation of that Prince[5] His abilities and industry in hisprofession were so eminent, and himself so well beloved, that withinthe first year of his entering into holy orders, he had the offer offourteen benefices from persons of quality, but as they lay in thecountry, his inclination of living in London, made him refuse themall. Upon his return from Cambridge his wife died, and his grief forher loss was so great, that for some time he betook himself to aretired and solitary life: Mrs. Donne died in the year 1617, on theseventh day after the birth of her twelfth child. She left our authorin a narrow unsettled state with seven children then living, to her hegave a voluntary assurance, that he would never bring them under thesubjection of a step-mother, and this promise he faithfully kept. Soonafter 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 ofDoncaster, in his embassy to the Princes of Germany, and about 14months after his return to England, he was advanced to the deanery ofSt. Paul's. Upon the vacancy of the deanery, the King sent an order toDr. Donne, to attend him the next day at dinner: When his Majesty satdown, he said, "Dr. Donne, I have invited you to dinner, and thoughyou sit not down with me, yet I will carve to you of a dish that Iknow you love well; for knowing you love London, I do therefore makeyou dean of St. Paul's, and when I have dined, then do you take yourbeloved dish home to your study, say grace there to your self, andmuch good may it do you[6]. " Soon after, another vicarage of St. Dunstan in the West, and another benefice fell to Dr. Donne. 'Till the59th year of his age he continued in perfect health, when being withhis eldest daughter in Essex, in 1630, he was taken ill of a fever, which brought on a consumption; notwithstanding which he returnedto London, and preached in his turn at court as usual, on the firstfriday in Lent. He died on the 31st day of March 1631, and was buriedin the cathedral church of St. Paul's, where a monument was erectedover him. Walton says that amongst other preparations for death, hemade use of this very remarkable one. He ordered an urn to be cut inwood, on which was to be placed a board of the exact heighth of hisbody: this being done, he caused himself to be tied up in a windingsheet in the same manner that dead bodies are. Being thus shrouded, and standing with his eyes shut, and with just so much of the sheetput aside, as might discover his thin, pale, and death-like face, he caused a skilful painter to draw his picture. This piece beingfinished, was placed near his bed-side, and there remained as hisconstant remembrance to the hour of his death. 

His character as a preacher and a poet are sufficiently seen in hisincomparable writings. His personal qualifications were as eminent asthose of his mind; he was by nature exceeding passionate, but was aptto be sorry for the excesses of it, and like most other passionatemen, was humane and benevolent. His monument was composed of whitemarble, and carved from the picture just now mentioned of him, byorder of his executor Dr. King, bishop of Chichester, who wrote thefollowing 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. Lettersto several Personages. 7. Funeral Elegies. 8. Holy Sonnets. Theyare printed together in one volume 12mo. 1719, with the additionof elegies upon the author by several persons. Mr. Dryden in hisdedication of Juvenal to the earl of Dorset, has given Dr. Donne thecharacter of the greatest wit, though not the greatest poet of ournation, and wishes his satires and other works were rendered intomodern language. Part of this wish the world has seen happily executedby the great hand of Mr. Pope. Besides the Pseudo-Martyr, and volumeof 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 isadded a Book of Epigrams, written in Latin by the same author, andtranslated into English by Dr. Main, as also Ignatius his conclave, aSatire, translated out of the original copy written in Latin by thesame author, found lately amongst his own papers, 12mo. London 1653. These pieces are dedicated by the author's son, Dr. John Donne, toFrancis Lord Newport. 

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

Essays on Divinity, being several disquisitions interwoven withmeditations and prayers before he went into holy orders, publishedafter his death by his son, 1651. 

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

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

Declaration of that Paradox or Thesis, that Self-Homicide is not sonaturally a sin that it may not be otherwise, London, 1644, 1648, &c. 4to. The original under the author's own hand is preserved in theBodleian Library. Mr. Walton gives this piece the character of anexact and laborious treatise, 'wherein all the laws violated by thatact (self murder) are diligently surveyed and judiciously censured. 'The piece from whence I shall take the following quotation, is calleda Hymn to God the Father, was composed in the time of his sickness, which breathes a spirit of fervent piety, though no great force ofpoetry 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 andCharles I. Sprung from an ancient family, originally descended fromthe town of Drayton in Leicestershire, [1] but his parents removinginto Warwickshire, he was born there, as he himself declares in hisPoly-olbion, Song 13. A little village called Harsul in that countyclaims the honour of his birth, by which accident it is raised fromobscurity; he was born in the year 1573, according to the mostaccurate computation that can be made from the dates of his works. When he was but very young he gave such discoveries of a rising geniusas rendered him a favourite with his tutors, and procured him thepatronage of persons of distinction. In the year 1573, being then butabout ten years of age, he was page to some honourable person, as maybe collected from his own words: In some of his epistles to HenryReynold esquire, it appears that even then he could construe his Cato, and some other little collections of sentences, which made him veryanxious to know, what sort of beings the poets were, and very pressingupon his tutor to make him, if possible, a poet. In consequence ofthis he was put to the reading of Virgil's Eclogues, and 'till eventhen, says one of his Biographers, he scorned any thing that lookedlike a ballad, though written by Elderton himself. This Elderton was afamous comedian in those days, and a facetious companion, who havinga great readiness at rhiming, composed many catches on Love and Wine, which were then in great vogue among the giddy and volatile part ofthe town; but he was not more celebrated for drollery than drinking, so that he obtained the name of the bacchanalian buffoon, thered-nosed ballad-maker, &c. And at last by the excessive indulgence ofhis favourite vice, he fell a martyr to it 1592, and Mr. Camden haspreserved this epitaph on him, which for its humour, I shall here givea 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 theuniversity of Cambridge, it is evident from the testimony of Sir AltonCohain, his intimate friend, who mentions him in his Choice Poems ofseveral 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 partof the writers who were educated there. In 1588 it appears from hispoem, entitled Moses his Birth and Miracles, that he was a spectatorat Dover of the Spanish invasion, which was arrogantly stiledInvincible, and it is not improbable that he was engaged in somemilitary employment there, especially as we find some mention madeof him, as being in esteem with the gentlemen of the army. He earlyaddicted himself to the amusement of poetry, but all who have writtenof him, have been negligent in informing us how soon he favoured thepublic with any production of his own. He was distinguished as a poetabout nine or ten years before the death of Queen Elizabeth, but atwhat 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 hisPastorals; likewise some of the most grave poems, and such as havetransmitted his name to posterity with honour, not long after saw thelight. His Baron's wars, and England's heroical Epistles; his Downfalsof Robert of Normandy; Matilda and Gaveston, for which last he iscalled by one of his contemporaries, Tragdiographus, and part of hisPolyolbion were written before the year 1598, for all which joinedwith his personal good character; he was highly celebrated at thattime, not only for the elegance and sweetness of his expressions, buthis actions and manners, which were uniformly virtuous and honourable;he was thus characterised not only by the poet; and florid writers ofthose days, but also by divines, historians, and other Scholars of themost serious turn and extensive learning. In his younger years hewas much beloved and patronized by Sir Walter Aston of Tixhallin Staffordshire, to whom for his kind protection, he gratefullydedicates many of his poems, whereof his Barons Wars was the first, inthe spring of his acquaintance, as Drayton himself expresses it;but however, it may be gathered from his works, that his most earlydependance was upon another patron, namely, Sir Henry Goodere ofPolesworth, in his own county, to whom he has been grateful for agreat part of his education, and by whom he was recommended to thepatronage of the countess of Bedford: it is no less plain from manyof his dedications to Sir Walter Ashton, that he was for many yearssupported by him, and accommodated with such supplies as afforded himleisure to finish some of his most elaborate compositions; and theauthor of the Biographia Britannica has told us, 'that it has beenalledged, that he was by the interest of the same gentleman with SirRoger Ashton, one of the Bedchamber to King James in his minority, made in some measure ministerial to an intercourse of correspondencebetween the young King of of Scots and Queen Elizabeth:' but asno authority is produced to prove this, it is probably withoutfoundation, as poets have seldom inclination, activity or steadinessto manage any state affairs, particularly a point of so delicate anature. 

Our author certainly had fair prospects, from his services, or othertestimonies of early attachment to the King's interest, of somepreferment, besides he had written Sonnets, in praise of the King asa poet. Thus we see Drayton descending to servile flattery to promotehis interest, and praising a man as a poet contrary to his ownjudgment, because he was a King who was as devoid of poetry ascourage. 

He welcomed his Majesty to his British dominions with a congratulatorypoem printed in 4to, 1603. The same year he was chosen by Sir WalterAston one of the esquires who attended him, when he was with otherscreated knight of the Bath at the coronation of his Majesty. It nowhere appears, that ever our author printed those poems in praise ofhis Majesty; and the ungrateful reception they met, as well as thedisagreeable experience of the universal degeneracy at court, sodifferent from that of the Maiden Reign, might extinguish all hope ofraising himself there. 

In the year 1613 he published the first part of his Poly-olbion. Itis a chorographical description of the rivers, mountains, forests, castles; &c. In this Island, intermixed with the remarkableantiquities, rarities, commodities, &c. This part is addressed toPrince Henry, the promising son of James I. By whose encouragement itwas 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 hispatronage. In this volume there are eighteen songs, illustrated withthe notes of the learned Mr. Selden, and there are maps beforeevery song, whereby the cities, mountains, forests, rivers, &c. Arerepresented by the figures of men and women. It is interwoven withmany episodes, such as the conquest of this Island by the Romans, thearrival of the Saxons, the Danes and Normans, &c. And bishop Nicholsonobserves, that Poly-olbion affords a much more accurate account ofthis kingdom and the Dominion of Wales than could have been expectedfrom the pen of a poet. How poetically our author has conducted andexecuted his plan, is admirably expressed by the ingenious Dr. JamesKirkpatrick, in a beautiful poem of his called the Sea-Piece. CantoII. 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 secondpart of his Poly-olbion was published, making in all thirty books orsongs. In 1622 we find him stiled Poet Laureat: It is probable thisappellation of Poet Laureat was not confined and restricted as it isnow to his Majesty's Servant known by that title, who at that time itis presumed was Ben Johnson, because it was bestowed promiscuously asa mark of any poet's excellency in his profession. 

In 1627 was published the second volume of his poems, containing thebattle of Agencourt, in stanzas of eight lines. The mysteries of QueenMargaret in the like stanzas. Nymphidia, or the Court of Faeries. TheQuest of Cynthia, another beautiful piece, both reprinted in Dryden'sMiscellanies. The Shepherd's Sirena; also the Moon Calf; Satire on theMasculine Affectations of Women, and the the effeminate disguises ofthe Men, in those times. Elegies upon several occasions. These areintroduced by the vision of Ben Johnson on the Muse of his friendMichael Drayton, wherein he very particularly enumerates and praiseshis several compositions. In 1630 he published another volume of poemsin 4to, intitled the Muses Elizium, in ten sundry Nymphals, with threedifferent poems on Noah's flood; Moses his birth and miracles, and David and Goliath. The pastoral poems are addressed to EdwardSackville Earl of Dorset, and Lord Chamberlain, who had now made himone of his family. His divine poems are written in verse and variousmeasures, and are dedicated to the Countess of Dorset; and there aresome 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 lastof whom is very lavish in displaying the great extent of our poet'sfame. 

In 1631 Mr. Drayton died, or as it is expressed in his monumentalinscription, exchanged his laurel for a crown of glory. He was buriedamong the poets in Westminster-Abbey, and the handsome table monumentof blue marble which was raised over his grave the same year, isadorned with his effigies in busto, laureated. On one side is a crestof Minerva's cap, and Pegasus in a scutcheon on the other. Sir AstonCokain composed an elegy upon him: and Ben Johnson is said to havebeen the author of his epitaph, which is written in letters of goldupon 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 contemporarywits, and Ben Johnson who was not much disposed to praise, entertaineda high opinion of him, and in this epitaph has both immortalizedhimself and his friend. It is easy for those who are conversant withour author's works to see how much the moderns and even Mr. Popehimself copy Mr. Drayton, and refine upon him in those distinctionswhich are esteemed the most delicate improvements of our Englishversification, such as the turns, the pauses, the elegant tautologies, &c. It is not difficult to point out some depredations which have beenmade on our author by modern writers, however obsolete some of themmay have reckoned him. In one of his heroical epistles, that of KingJohn 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 unexceptionablya great wit. They are not otherwise materially altered, than by thetransposure of the rhimes in the first couplet, and the retrenchmentof the measure in both. As the sphere in which this author movedwas of the middle sort, neither raised to such eminence as to incurdanger, nor so deprest with poverty as to be subject to meanness, hislife seems to have flowed with great tranquility; nor are there any ofthose vicissitudes and distresses which have so frequently fallen tothe lot of the inspired tribe. He was honoured with the patronage ofmen of worth, tho' not of the highest stations; and that author cannotbe called a mean one, on whom so great a man as Selden (in manyrespects the most finished scholar that ever appeared in our nation)was pleased to animadvert. His genius seems to have been of the secondrate, much beneath Spencer and Sidney, Shakespear and Johnson, buthighly removed above the ordinary run of versifyers. We shall quote afew lines from his Poly-olbion as a specimen of his poetry. 

When he speaks of his native county, Warwickshire, he has thefollowing 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 thereign of Queen Elizabeth. He was educated at Westminster school, andfrom thence was sent to Oxford, 1597, where he was admitted a studentin Christ-church. In 1605, being then esteemed one of the greatestwits of the University, he took the degree of Master of Arts, andafterwards entering into holy orders, he became a popular preacher, and much admired by people of taste and learning. His shining wit, andremarkable eloquence recommended him to King James I, who made him oneof his chaplains in ordinary, and in 1620 promoted him to the deaneryof Christ's-church; about which time he was made doctor of divinity, vicar of Cassington, near Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, and prebendary ofBedminster-secunda, in the church of Sarum. [1]

While he was dean of Christ's church, he made verses on a play actedbefore the King at Woodstock, called Technogamia, or the marriage ofArts, written by Barten Holiday the poet, who afterwards translatedJuvenal. The ill-success it met with in the representation occasionedseveral 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 itseems preached before the King, with his band starched clean, forwhich he was reproved by the graver sort; but those who knew him welltook no notice of it, for they have several times said, that he lovedto the last boy's play very well. " He was elected, 1629, Bishop ofOxford, in the room of Dr. Hewson, translated to the See of Durham. Upon the promotion of Dr. White to Ely he was elected bishop ofNorwich. 

This prelate married Alice, daughter of Dr. Leonard Hutton, vicar ofFlower in Northamptonshire, and he mentions that village in a poem ofhis called Iter Boreale, or a Journey Northward. Our author was inthat celebrated class of poets, Ben Johnson, Dr. Donne, MichaelDrayton, and others, who wrote mock commendatory verses on TomCoryate's [2] Crudities. He concurred likewise with other poets of theuniversity in inviting Ben Johnson to Oxford, where he was createdMaster of Arts. There is extant in the Musæum Ashmoleanum, a funeraloration in Latin, by Dr. Corbet, on the death of Prince Henry, AnnoDom. 1612;[3] This great man died in the year 1635, and was buried theupper-end of the choir of the cathedral church of Norwich. 

He was very hospitable and a generous encourager of all publicdesigns. When in the year 1634 St. Paul's cathedral was repaired, he not only contributed himself, but was very diligent in procuringcontributions from others. His works are difficult to be met with, butfrom such of his poems as we have had occasion to read, he seems tohave been a witty, delicate writer, and to have had a particulartalent for panegyric. Wood says, a collection of his poems waspublished under the title of Poetica Stromata, in 8vo. London 1647. In his Iter Boreale, or Journey Northward, we meet with a fine moralreflexion on the burial place of Richard III. And Cardinal Wolsey, who were both interred at Leicester; with which we shall present thereader 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 ablank leaf of his poems, some manuscript verses, in honour of BishopCorbet signed J. C. With which, as they are extremely pretty, and makea just representation of his poetical character, we shall concludethis 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 withrespect to this great genius. Philips so far overlooks him, that hecrowds him into his supplement, and Winstanley, who followed him, postpones our author till after the Earl of Rochester. Sir Thomas PopeBlount makes no mention of him; and Mr. Jacob, so justly called theBlunderbus of Law, informs us he wrote in the time of Charles thefirst, tho' he dedicates his translation of Tasso to Queen Elizabeth. All who mention him, do him the justice to allow he was anaccomplished 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 charmedwith the melody of his verses. It was impossible Mr. Dryden could beso blind to our author's beauties; accordingly we find him introducingSpencer and Fairfax almost on the level, as the leading authors oftheir times; nay tacitly yielding the palm in point of harmony to thelast; by asserting that Waller confessed he owed the music of hisnumbers to Fairfax's Godfrey of Bulloign. The truth is, this gentlemanis perhaps the only writer down to Sir William Davenant, who needs noapology 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 ofhis lines so perfectly melodious, that one cannot read it withoutrapture; and we can scarcely imagine the original Italian has greatlythe advantage in either, nor is it very probable that while Fairfaxcan be read, any author will attempt a new translation of Tasso withsuccess. Mr. Fairfax was natural son of Sir Thomas Fairfax of Denton, and natural brother to Sir Thomas Fairfax, the first who was createdBaron of Cameron. His younger brother was knighted, and slain at thememorable siege of Ostend, 1601, of which place he was sometime governor[1]. When he married is not on record, or in whatcircumstances he lived: But it is very probable, his father took careto support him in a manner suitable to his own quality, and his son'sextraordinary merit, he being always stiled Edward Fairfax, Esq; ofNewhall in Fuystone, in the forest of Knaresborough. The year in whichhe 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 welladvanced in years, and as I suppose gave occasion to the many mistakesthat have been made as to the time of his writing. Besides thetranslation of Godfrey of Bulloigne, Mr. Fairfax wrote the history ofEdward the Black Prince, and certain eclogues, which Mrs. Cooper tellsus are yet in manuscript, tho' (says she) "by the indulgence of thefamily, from whom I had likewise the honour of these memoirs, I ampermitted to oblige the world with a specimen of their beauties. " Hewrote also a book called, Dæmonologie, in which he shews a greatdeal of ancient reading and knowledge; it is still in manuscript, and in the beginning he gives this character of himself[2]. "I am inreligion neither a fantastic Puritan, nor superstitious Papist, but sosettled in conscience, that I have the sure ground of God's word towarrant all I believe, and the commendable ordinances of our EnglishChurch, to approve all I practise; In which course I live a faithfulChristian, and an obedient, and so teach my family. " The ecloguesalready mentioned are twelve in number, all of them written afterthe accession of King James to the throne of England, on importantsubjects, relating to the manners, characters, and incidents of thetimes he lived in: they are pointed with many fine strokes of satire, dignified with noble instructions of morality, and policy, to thoseof the highest rank, and some modest hints to Majesty itself. Thelearning contained in these eclogues is so various and extensive, lhataccording to the opinion of his son, who has written long annotationson each, no man's reading besides his own was sufficient to explainhis references effectually. As his translation of Tasso is in everybody'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 ofIphigenia, threw a veil over the face of Agamemnon, not able toexpress a father's anguish. ]

 * * * * *

THOMAS RANDOLPH, A Poet of no mean genius, was born at Newnham, near Daintry inNorthamptonshire, the 15th of June, 1605; he was son of WilliamRandolph of Hams, near Lewes in Sussex, was educated at Westminsterschool, and went from thence to Trinity College in Cambridge, 1623, of which he became a fellow; he commenced Master of Arts, and in thisdegree was incorporated at Oxon[1], became famous (says Wood) for hisingenuity, being the adopted son of Ben Johnson, and accounted oneof the most pregnant wits of his age. The quickness of his parts wasdiscovered early; when he was about nine or ten years old he wrote theHistory of the Incarnation of Our Saviour in verse, which is preservedin manuscript under his own hand writing. Randolph receives fromLangbaine the highest encomium. He tells his readers that they needexpect no discoveries of thefts, for this author had no occasion topractice plagiary, having so large a fund of wit of his own, that heneeded not to borrow from others. Were a foreigner to form a notion ofthe merit of the English poets from reading Langbaine, they would bein raptures with Randolph and Durfey, and others of their class, whileDryden, and the first-rate wits, would be quite neglected; Langbaineis so far generous, that he does all he can to draw obscure men intolight, but then he cannot be acquitted of envy, for endeavouring toshade the lustre of those whose genius has broke through obscuritywithout his means, and he does no service to his country while heconfines his panegyric to mean versifiers, whom no body can readwithout a certain degree of contempt. 

Our author had done nothing in life it seems worth preserving, or atleast that cotemporary historians thought so, for there is little tobe learned concerning him. Wood says he was like other poets, muchaddicted to libertine indulgence, and by being too free with hisconstitution in the company of his admirers, and running intofashionable excesses, he was the means of shortening his own days. Hedied at little Haughton in Northamptonshire, and was buried in an isleadjoining to the church in that place, on the 17th of March, 1634. Hehad soon after a monument of white marble, wreathed about with laurel, erected over his grave at the charge of lord Hatton of Kirby. Perhapsthe greatest merit which this author has to plead, is his attachmentto Ben Johnson, and admiration of him: Silius Italicus performed anannual visit to Virgil's tomb, and that circumstance reflects morehonour upon him in the eyes of Virgil's admirers, than all the worksof that author. Langbaine has preserved a monument of Randolph'sfriendship for Ben Johnson, in an ode he addressed to him, occasionedby Mr. Feltham's severe attack upon him, which is particularized inthe life of Ben; from this ode we shall quote a stanza or two, beforeI 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, andmark him a tolerable versifier. I shall now give some account of hisplays. 

1. Amyntas, or the Impossible Dowry, a Pastoral acted before the Kingand 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 atCambridge, by the students of Trinity College. This play Langbainethinks the best of Randolph's, as appears by an epilogue written byMrs. Behn, and printed in her collection of poems published in 8vo, 1681; it was revised and printed by the author in his life-time, beingushered into the world with copies of verses by some of the best wits, both of Oxford and Cambridge. 4. Muses Looking Glass, a Comedy, whichby the author was first called The Entertainment; as appears from SirAston Cokaine's Works, who writ an encomium on it, and Mr. RichardWest 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; hetranslated-likewise the second Epod of Horace, several pieces out ofClaudian, and likewise a dramatic piece from Aristophanes, which hecalls Hey for Honesty, Down with Knavery, a pleasant comedy printed in4to. London 1651. A gentleman of St. John's College, writes thus inhonour 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. ]

 * * * * *

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 highreputation in his time, and added not a little to dramatic excellence. In 1574, being well grounded in grammar learning, he was sent to theuniversity, but it is not clear whether to Oxford or Cambridge; it iscertain that he was sometime in Oxford, and was taken notice of forhis great skill in the Latin and Greek languages, but not in logic andphilosophy, which is the reason it may be presumed, that he tookno degree there. After this he came to London, and contracted anacquaintance, as Wood says, with Shakespear, Johnson, Sidney, Spenserand Daniel. He met with a very warm patronage from Sir ThomasWalsingham, who had always had a constant friendship for him, andafter that gentleman's decease, from his son Thomas Walsingham, esquire, whom Chapman loved from his birth. He was also respected, andheld in esteem by Prince Henry, and Robert earl of Somerset, but thefirst being untimely snatched away, and the other justly disgracedfor an assassination[1], his hopes of preferment were by these meansfrustrated; however, he was a servant either to King James I. Or QueenAnne his consort, through whose reign he was highly valued by all hisold friends, only there are some insinuations, that as his reputationgrew, Ben Johnson, naturally haughty and insolent, became jealous ofhim, and endeavoured to suppress, as much as possible, his risingfame[2], as Ben, after the death of Shakespear, was without a rival. 

Chapman was a man of a reverend aspect, and graceful manner, religiousand temperate, qualities which seldom meet (says Wood) in a poet, andwas so highly esteemed by the clergy, that some of them have said, "that as Musæus, who wrote the lives of Hero and Leander, had twoexcellent scholars, Thamarus and Hercules, so had he in England in thelatter end of Queen Elizabeth, two excellent imitators in the sameargument and subject, viz. Christopher Marlow, and George Chapman. "Our author has translated the Iliad of Homer, published in folio, anddedicated 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 indeedno mean genius: Pope somewhere calls him an enthusiast in poetry. Helikewise 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, andtranslated 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 ofMusæus, taken by Chapman from the collection of Dr. William Gager, and a dedication to the most generally ingenious and only learnedarchitect of his time, Inigo Jones esquire, Surveyor of his Majesty'sWorks. At length, says Wood, this reverend and eminent poet, havinglived 77 years in this vain, transitory world, made his last exit inthe parish of St. Giles's in the Fields, near London, on the 12th dayof May, 1655, and was buried in the yard on the South side of thechurch in St. Giles's: soon after a monument was erected over hisgrave, built after the manner of the old Romans, at the expence, andunder 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 afterwardsbefore his Majesty King James I. In the beginning of his reign, andprinted in 4to. London 1605. The plot is taken, and the charactersformed upon Terence's Heautontimorumenos. The Prologue and Epiloguewrit in blank verse, shew that in these days persons of quality, andthey that thought themselves good critics, in place of fitting in theboxes, as they now do, sat on the stage; what influence those peoplehad on the meanest sort of the audience, may be seen by the followinglines 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 ata private house in Black Fryars, by the servants of King Charles I. Printed in 4to. London 1654. This play, though it bears the name ofAlphonsus, was writ, as Langbaine supposes, in honour of the Englishnation, 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 otherelectors. Though this King was accounted by some a pious prince, yetour author represents him as a bloody tyrant, and, contrary to otherhistorians, brings him to an unfortunate end, he supposing him tobe killed by Alexander, son to Lorenzo de Cipres his secretary, inrevenge of his father, who was poisoned by him, and to compleat hisrevenge, he makes him first deny his Saviour in hopes of life, andthen stabs him, glorying that he had at once destroyed both body andsoul. This passage is related by several authors, as Bolton's Fourlast Things, Reynolds of the Passions, Clark's Examples, &c. 

Blind Beggar of Alexandria, a Comedy, printed 1598, dedicated to theearl of Nottingham, Lord High Admiral. Bussy d'Amboise, a Tragedy, often presented at St. Paul's, in the reign of King James I. And sincethe Restoration with great applause; for the plot see Thuanus, Jean deSerres, and Mezeray, in the reign of King Henry III. Of France. Thisis the play of which Mr. Dryden speaks, when in his preface to theSpanish Fryar, he resolves to burn one annually to the memory of BenJohnson. Some have differed from Mr. Dryden in their opinion of thispiece, but as the authorities who have applauded, are not so high asMr. Dryden's single authority, it is most reasonable to conclude notmuch in its favour. 

Bussy d'Amboise his Revenge, a Tragedy, printed 1613, and dedicated toSir Thomas Howard. This play is generally allowed to fall short of theformer of that name, yet the author, as appears from his dedication, had a higher opinion of it himself, and rails at those who dared tocensure it; it is founded upon fiction, which Chapman very justlydefends, and says that there is no necessity for any play beingfounded 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 tothe Earl of Middlesex. 

Gentleman Usher, a Comedy, printed in 4to. London 1606. We arenot certain whether this play was ever acted, and it has but anindifferent character. 

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

Mask of the Two Honourable Houses, or Inns of Court, theMiddle-Temple, and Lincoln's-Inn, performed before the King atWhitehall, on Shrove Monday at night, being the 15th of February, 1613, at the celebration of the Royal Nuptials of the Palsgrave, andthe Princess Elizabeth, &c. With a description of their whole shew, inthe manner of their march on horseback, from the Master of the Rolls'shouse to the court, with all their noble consorts, and shewfulattendants; invented and fashioned, with the ground and specialstructure of the whole work by Inigo Jones; this Mask is dedicated toSir Edward Philips, then Master of the Rolls. At the end of the Masqueis printed an Epithalamium, called a Hymn for the most happy Nuptialsof the Princess Elizabeth, &c. 

May-Day, a witty Comedy, acted at the Black Fryars, and printed in4to. 1611. 

Monsieur d'Olive, a Comedy, acted by her Majesty's children at theBlack 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, censuringthe follies of that age, printed in London 1619. This play is extendedto seven acts, a circumstance which Langbaine says he never saw in anyother, 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 WhiteFryars, printed in 4to. London 1612; this play is formed upon thestory 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 BenJohnson and Marston in writing a Comedy called Eastward-Hoe; this playhas been since revived by Tate, under the title of Cuckolds Haven. Ithas been said that for some reflections contained in it against theScotch nation; Ben Johnson narrowly escaped the pillory. See more ofthis, page 237. 

[Footnote 1: See the Life of Overbury. ]

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

 * * * * *

BEN JOHNSON, One of the best dramatic poets of the 17th century, was descended froma Scots family, his grandfather, who was a gentleman, being originallyof Annandale in that kingdom, whence he removed to Carlisle, andafterwards was employed in the service of King Henry VIII. Hisfather lost his estate under Queen Mary, in whose reign he sufferedimprisonment, and at last entered into holy orders, and died about amonth before our poet's birth[1], who was born at Westminster, saysWood, in the year 1574. He was first educated at a private schoolin the church of St. Martin's in the Fields, afterwards removed toWestminster 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 beingextremely averse to that employment, he went into the low countries, where he distinguished himself by his bravery, having in the view ofthe army killed an enemy, and taken the opima spolia from him. 

Upon his return to England, he applied himself again to his formerstudies, and Wood says he was admitted into St. John's College in theuniversity of Cambridge, though his continuance there seems to havebeen but short. He had some time after this the misfortune to fighta duel, and kill his adversary, who only slightly wounded him in thearm; for this he was imprisoned, and being cast for his life, was nearexecution; his antagonist, he said, had a sword ten inches longer thanhis own. 

While he lay in prison, a popish priest visited him, who found hisinclination quite disengaged as to religion, and therefore took theopportunity to impress him with a belief of the popish tenets. Hismind then naturally melancholy, clouded with apprehensions, and thedread of execution, was the more easily imposed upon. However, suchwas the force of that impression, that for twelve years after he hadgained his liberty, he continued in the catholic faith, and at lastturned Protestant, whether from conviction or fashion cannot bedetermined; but when the character of Ben is considered, probabilitywill be upon the side of the latter, for he took every occasion toridicule religion in his plays, and make it his sport in conversation. On his leaving the university he entered himself into an obscureplayhouse, called the Green Curtain, somewhere about Shoreditch orClerkenwell. He was first an actor, and probably only a strolling one;for Decker in his Satyromastix, a play published in 1602, and designedas a reply to Johnson's Poetaster, 'reproaches him with having leftthe occupation of a mortar trader to turn actor, and with having putup a supplication to be a poor journeyman player, in which he wouldhave continued, but that he could not set a good face upon it, and sowas cashiered. Besides, if we admit that satire to be built on facts, we learn further, that he performed the part of Zuliman at the ParisGarden 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, byrecommending a play of his to the stage, at the time when one of theplayers had rejected his performance, and told him it would be of noservice to their company[3]. His first printed dramatic performancewas a Comedy, entitled Every Man in his Humour, acted in the year1598, which being soon followed by several others, as his Sejanus, hisVolpone, his Silent Woman, and his Alchymist, gained him so high areputation, that in October 1619, upon the death of Mr. Samuel Danielhe was made Poet Laureat to King James I. And on the 19th of July, thesame year, he was created (says Wood) Master of Arts at Oxford, havingresided for some time at Christ Church in that university. He onceincurred his Majesty's displeasure for being concerned with Chapmanand Marston in writing a play called Eastward-Hoe, wherein they wereaccused of having reflected upon the Scotch nation. Sir James Murrayrepresented it to the King, who ordered them immediately to beimprisoned, and they were in great danger of losing their ears andnoses, as a correction of their wantonness; nor could the most partialhave blamed his Majesty, if the punishment had been inflicted; forsurely to ridicule a country from which their Sovereign had justcome, the place of his nativity, and the kingdom of his illustriousforefathers, was a most daring insult. Upon their releasement fromprison, our poet gave an entertainment to his friends, among whom wereCamden and Selden; when his aged mother drank to him[4] and shewedhim a paper of poison which she had designed, if the sentence ofpunishment had been inflicted, to have mixed with his drink after shehad first taken a potion of it herself. 

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

He had a pension from the city of London, from several of the nobilityand gentry, and particularly from Mr. Sutton the founder of theCharterhouse. [5] In his last sickness he often repented of theprofanation of scripture in his plays. He died the 16th of August1637, in the 63d year of his age, and was interred three days after inWestminster Abbey; he had several children who survived him. 

Ben Johnson conceived so high an opinion of Mr. Drummond ofHawthornden by the letters which passed between them, that heundertook a journey into Scotland, and resided some time atMr. Drummond's seat there, who has printed the heads of theirconversation, and as it is a curious circumstance to know the opinionof so great a man as Johnson of his cotemporary writers, these headsare here inserted. 

"Ben, says Mr. Drummond, was eat up with fancies; he told me, thatabout the time the Plague raged in London, being in the country at SirRobert Cotton's house with old Camden, he saw in a vision his eldestson, then a young child, and at London, appear unto him, with the markof 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 toMr. Camden's chamber to tell him; who persuaded him, it was but anapprehension, at which he should not be dejected. In the mean time, there came letters from his wife of the death of that boy in theplague. He appeared to him, he said, of a manly shape, and of thatgrowth he thinks he shall be at the resurrection. He said, he spentmany a night in looking at his great toe, about which he had seenTartars, and Turks, Romans and Carthaginians fight in his imagination. 

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

"That Sidney did not keep a decorum, in making every one speak as wellas himself. Spenser's stanza pleased him not, nor his matter; themeaning of the allegory of the Fairy Queen he delivered in writingto Sir Walter Raleigh, which was, that by the bleating beast heunderstood 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 allhis book. That Drayton's Poly-olbion, if he had performed what hepromised to write, the Deeds of all the Worthies, had been excellent. That Sylvester's translation of Du Bartas was not well done, and thathe wrote his verses before he understood to confer; and those ofFairfax were not good. That the translations of Homer and Virgil inlong Alexandrines were but prose. That Sir John Harrington's Ariostoof all translations was the worst. He said Donne was originallya poet; his grandfather on the mother's side, was Heywood theepigramatist. That Donne for not being understood would perish. Heaffirmed, that Donne wrote all his best pieces before he was twentyyears of age. He told Donne, that his Anniversary was prophane, andfall of blasphemies, that if it had been written on the virgin Maryit had been tolerable. To which Donne answered, that he described theidea of a woman but not as she was. That Sir Walter Raleigh esteemedfame more than conscience; the best wits in England were employed inmaking his history. Ben himself had written a piece to him on thePunic war, which he altered and put in his book. He said there wasno such ground for an heroic poem, as King Arthur's fiction, and SirPhilip Sidney had an intention of turning all his Arcadia tothe stories of King Arthur. He said Owen was a poor pedanticschool-master, sucking his living from the posteriors of littlechildren, and has nothing good in him, his epigrams being barenarrations. He loved Fletcher, Beaumont and Chapman. That Sir WilliamAlexander was not half kind to him, and neglected him because a friendto Drayton. That Sir R. Ayton loved him dearly; he fought severaltimes with Marston, and says that Marston wrote his father in Law'spreachings, and his father in law his comedies. "

Mr. Drummond has represented the character of our author in a verydisadvantageous, though perhaps not in a very unjust light. "That hewas a great lover and praiser of himself; a contemner and scorner ofothers, rather chusing to lose a friend than a jest; jealous of everyword and action of those about him, especially after drink, which wasone of the elements in which he lived; a dissembler of the parts whichreigned in him; a bragger of some good that he wanted: he thoughtnothing right, but what either himself or some of his friends had saidor done. He was passionately kind and angry; careless either togain or to keep, vindictive, but if he was well answered, greatlychagrined; interpreting the best sayings and deeds often to the worst. He was for any religion, being versed in all; his inventions weresmooth and easy, but above all he excelled in translation. In short, he was in his personal character the very reverse of Shakespear, assurly, ill-natured, proud and disagreeable, as Shakespear with tentimes his merit was gentle, good-natured, easy and amiable. " He had avery strong memory; for he tells himself in his discoveries that hecould in his youth have repeated all that he had ever written, and socontinued till he was past forty; and even after that he could haverepeated whole books that he had read, and poems of some selectfriends, which he thought worth remembring. 

Mr. Pope remarks, that when Ben got possesion of the stage, he broughtcritical learning into vogue, and that this was not done withoutdifficulty, which appears from those frequent lessons (and indeedalmost declamations) which he was forced to prefix to his first plays, and put into the mouths of his actors, the Grex, Chorus, &c. To removethe prejudices and inform the judgement of his hearers. Till thenthe English authors had no thoughts of writing upon the model of theancients: their tragedies were only histories in dialogue, and theircomedies followed the thread of any novel, as they found it, no lessimplicitly than if it had been true history. Mr. Selden in his prefaceto his titles of honour, stiles Johnson, his beloved friend and asingular poet, and extols his special worth in literature, and hisaccurate judgment. Mr. Dryden gives him the title of the greatest manof the last age, and observes, that if we look upon him, when he washimself, (for his last plays were but his dotages) he was the mostlearned and judicious writer any theatre ever had; that he was a mostsevere judge of himself as well as others; that we cannot say hewanted wit, but rather that he was frugal of it; that in his worksthere is little to be retrenched or altered; but that humour was hischief province. 

Ben had certainly no great talent for versification, nor does he seemto have had an extraordinary ear; his verses are often wanting insyllables, 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, andwhat 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; butthe poetry is so miserable, that the reader will think the abovequotation long enough. 

Ben has wrote above fifty several pieces which we may rank under thespecies 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. Drydensupposes this play was copied from the comedy of Albumazer, as faras concerns the Alchymist's character; as appears from his prologueprefixed 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 thendedicated to James I. 

3. Cataline's conspiracy, a tragedy, first acted in the year 1611. Inthis our author has translated a great part of Salust's history; andit is when speaking of this play, that Dryden says, he did not borrowbut commit depredations upon the ancients. Tragedy was not thisauthor's talent; he was totally without tenderness, and was so farunqualified 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 aMasque at court, by the Queen and her Ladies, at Shrove Tide, 1630. 

7. Cynthia's Revels, or the Fountain of Self-love, a comicalSatire, first acted in the year 1600, by the then children of QueenElizabeth'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 infolio, 1640. 

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

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

12. Entertainment in particular of the Queen and Prince, theirHighnesses at Althrope at the Lord Spenser's, 1603, as they came firstinto the kingdom. 

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

14. Every Man in his Humour, a Comedy, acted in the year 1598, by thethen Lord Chamberlain's servants, and dedicated to Mr. Camden. Thisplay 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, atwhich 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, designedfor the Court on Twelfth-Night, 1626. 

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

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

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

20. King's Entertainment at Welbeck in Nottinghamshire, at the Houseof the Right Honourable William, Earl of Newcastle, at his going toScotland, 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, atthe Earl of Newcastle's, 1634. 

24. Magnetick Lady, or Humours Reconciled, a Comedy, acted at theBlack Fryars, and printed 1640. This play was smartly and virulentlyattacked by Dr. Gill, Master of St. Paul's school, part of which, onaccount of the answer which Ben gave to it, we shall take the troubleto 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 meanreflexion on Ben's original employment, of which he had no occasion tobe ashamed; but he was paid in kind, and Ben answers him with equalvirulence, and in truth it cannot be said with more wit or poetry, forit 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, onShrove Tuesday at night, 1608. 

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

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

28. Masque of Queens celebrated from the House of Fame, by the Queenof 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 begunand 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 atcourt. 

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 inthe year 1601. 

39. Queen's Masques, the first of Blackness, presented 1605; thesecond 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 hasmet with success, and was ushered into the world by nine copies ofverses, one of which was writ by Mr. Chapman. Mr. Gentleman has latelypublished a Tragedy under the same title, in which he acknowledges theparts he took from Johnson. 

42. [6] Silent Woman, a Comedy, first acted in the year 1609. This isreckoned one of Ben's best comedies; Mr. Dryden has done it the honourto 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 didnot succeed to his expectation, and Ben being filled with indignationat the people's want of taste, wrote an Ode addressed to himself onthat occasion, advising him to quit the stage, which was answered byMr. Feltham. 

Thus have we given a detail of Ben Johnson's works. He is allowed tohave been a scholar, and to have understood and practised the dramaticrules; but Dryden proves him to have likewise been an unboundedplagiary. Humour was his talent; and he had a happy turn for anepitaph; we cannot better conclude his character as a poet, than inthe 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. EdinburghEdition, 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 beenoftner acted than all the rest of Ben Johnson's plays put together;they have ever been generally deemed good stock-plays, and beenperformed to many crowded audiences, in several separate seasons, withuniversal applause. Why the Silent Woman met not with success, whenrevived last year at Drury Lane Theatre, let the new critics, or theactors of the New Mode, determine. ]

 * * * * *

THOMAS CAREW, Esq;

Was descended of a very ancient and reputable family of the Carews inDevonshire, and was brother to Matthew Carews, a great royalist, inthe time of the rebellion; he had his education in Corpus ChristiCollege, but he appears not to have been matriculated as a member, orthat he took a scholastic degree[1]; afterwards improving his parts bytravelling, and conversation with ingenious men in the Metropolis, heacquired some reputation for his wit and poetry. About this time beingtaken notice of at court for his ingenuity, he was made Gentleman ofthe Privy Chamber, and Sewer in ordinary to King Charles I. Who alwaysesteemed him to the last, one of the most celebrated wits about hiscourt[2]. He was much esteemed and respected by the poets of his time, especially by Ben Johnson. Sir John Suckling, who had a great kindnessfor him, could not let him pass in his session of poets without thischaracter, 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 andenlarged, 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, oras Wood expresses it, wedded to the charming notes of Mr. HenryLawes, at that time the greatest musical composer in England, who wasGentleman of the King's Chapel, and one of the private musicians tohis Majesty. 

Coelum Britannicum; A Mask at Whitehall in the Banquetting House, onShrove Tuesday night February 18, 1633, London 1651. This Masque iscommonly attributed to Sir William Davenant. It was performed by theKing, the duke of Lenox, earls of Devonshire, Holland, Newport &c. With several other Lords and Noblemen's Sons; he was assisted in thecontrivance by Mr. Inigo Jones, the famous architect. The Masque beingwritten by the King's express command, our author placed this distichin 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 ofthis 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 ofour author, with which I shall conclude his life, after observing thatthis elegant author died, much regretted by some of the best wits ofhis 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 thecounty of Kent, descended of a very ancient family, who distinguishedthemselves in the wars between the Scotch and English before the unionof crowns. The father of Sir Henry Wotton, (according to the accountof the learned bishop Walton, ) was twice married, and after thedeath of his second wife, says the bishop, 'his inclination, thoughnaturally averse to all contentions, yet necessitated he was to haveseveral suits of law, which took up much of his time; he was by diversof his friends perswaded to remarriage, to whom he often answered, that if he did put on a resolution to marry, he seriously resolved toavoid 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 withone Mrs. Morton, the widow of a gentleman of Kent, who was engaged inseveral suits in law, and observing her comportment, the time of herhearing one of her causes before the judges, he could not but at thesame time compassionate her condition, and so affect her person, thatthough there were in her a concurrence of all those accidents, againstwhich he had so seriously resolved, yet his affection grew so strong, that he then resolved to sollicit her for a wife, and did, andobtained her. '

By this lady he had our author, who received the rudiments of hiseducation from his mother, who was it seems a woman of taste, andcapable of inspiring him with a love of polite accomplishments. Whenhe became fit for an academical education, he was placed in NewCollege in Oxford, in the beginning of the year 1584, where living inthe condition of a Gentleman Commoner, he contracted an intimacy withSir Richard Baker, afterwards an eminent historian. Sir Henry didnot long continue there, but removed to Queen's College, where, saysWalton, he made a great progress in logic and philosophy, and wrote aTragedy for the use of that college, called Tarroredo. Walton tellsus, 'that this tragedy was so interwoven with sentences, and for theexact personating those passions and humours he proposed to represent, he so performed, that the gravest of the society declared, that hehad in a flight employment, given an early and solid testimony of hisfuture abilities. '

On the 8th of June, says Wood, 1588, he as a member of Queen'sCollege, supplicated the venerable congregation of regents, that hemight be admitted to the degree of Bachelor of Arts, which desire wasgranted 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. Waltonsays, that about the twentieth year of his age, he proceeded Master ofArts, and at that time read in Latin three lectures de Ocello. Duringthe time he was at the university, and gaining much upon mankind bythe reputation of his abilities, his father, for whom he had thehighest veneration, died, and left him a hundred marks a year, tobe paid out of one of his manors of great value. Walton proceeds torelate a very astonishing circumstance concerning the father of ourauthor, 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 itwith great earnestness, as if he was persuaded of its reality. 

In the year 1553, Nicholas Wotton, dean of Canterbury, uncle to ourauthor's father, being ambassador in France in the reign of queenMary, dreamed, that his nephew Thomas Wotton, was disposed to be aparty in a very hazardous project, which if not suddenly prevented, would issue in the loss of his life, and the ruin of his family; thedean, who was persuaded of the importance of his own dream, was veryuneasy; but lest he should be thought superstitious, he resolved toconceal the circumstance, and not to acquaint his nephew, or any bodyelse with it; but dreaming the same a second time, he determined toput something in execution in consequence of it; he accordingly wroteto the Queen to send for his nephew Thomas Wotton out of Kent, andthat the Lords of the Council might examine him about some imaginaryconspiracy, so as to give colour for his being committed to Jail, declaring that he would acquaint her Majesty with the true reason ofhis 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 seemshad great influence with that bigotted Princess. About this time amarriage was concluded between the Queen of England, and Philip, Kingof Spain, which not a little disobliged some of the nobility, who werejealous left their country by such a match should be subjected tothe dominion of Spain, and their independent rights invaded by thatimperious monarch. These suspicions produced an insurrection, whichwas headed by the duke of Suffolk and Sir Thomas Wyat, who both losttheir lives in the attempt to prevent the match by seizing the Queen;for the design was soon discovered, easily defeated, and those twopersons, with many more, suffered on a scaffold. 

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

After Sir Henry quitted the university of Oxford, he travelled intoFrance, Germany and Italy, where he resided above nine years, andreturned to his own country perfectly accomplished in all the politeimprovements, which men of sense acquire by travelling, and wellacquainted with the temper and genius of the people with whom he hadconversed, and the different policy of their governments. He was soontaken notice of after his return, and became secretary to the famousRobert Devereux, earl of Essex, that unfortunate favourite, whosestory is never exhibited on the stage, says Mr. Addison, withoutaffecting the heart in the most sensible manner. With his lordship hecontinued in the character of secretary 'till the earl was apprehendedfor his mutinous behaviour towards the Queen, and put upon his trial. Wotton, who did not think it safe to continue in England after thefall of his master, retired to Florence, became acquainted with theGreat Duke of Tuscany, and rose so high in his favour, that he wasentrusted by him to carry letters to James VI. King of Scots, underthe name of Octavio Baldi, in order to inform that king of a designagainst his life. Walton informs us, that though Queen Elizabeth wasnever willing to declare her successor, yet the King of Scots wasgenerally believed to be the person, on whom the crown of Englandwould devolve. The Queen declining very fast, both through age andvisible infirmities, "those that were of the Romish persuasion, in point of religion, knowing that the death of the Queen, andestablishing her succession, was the crisis for destroying orsupporting the Protestant religion in this nation, did thereforeimprove all opportunities for preventing a Protestant Prince tosucceed her; and as the pope's excommunication of Queen Elizabeth hadboth by the judgment and practice of the jesuited Papists, exposedher to be warrantably destroyed, so about that time, there were manyendeavours first to excommunicate, and then to shorten the life ofKing James VI. "

Immediately after Wotton's return from Rome to Florence, which wasabout a year before the death of Queen Elizabeth; Ferdinand, the GreatDuke, had intercepted certain letters, which discovered a designagainst the life of the King of Scots. The Duke abhorring the schemeof assassination, and resolving to prevent it, advised with hissecretary Vietta, by what means a caution should be given to theScotch Prince. Vietta recommended Wotton as a person of the highestabilities of any Englishman then at his court: Mr. Wotton was sent forby his friend Vietta to the Duke, who after many professions of trustand friendship, acquainted him with the secret, and sent him toScotland with letters to the King, and such antidotes against poison, as till then, the Scots had been strangers to. Mr. Wotton havingdeparted from the Duke, assumed the name and language of an Italian, which he spoke so fluently, and with so little mixture of a foreigndialect, that he could scarcely be distinguished from a native ofItaly; and thinking it best to avoid the line of English intelligenceand danger, posted into Norway, and through that country towardsScotland, where he found the King at Stirling. 

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

The King being informed of this, after a little wonder, mixed withjealousy, to hear of an Italian ambassador or messenger, appointed aprivate audience that evening. When Mr. Wotton came to the presencechamber, he was desired to lay aside his long rapier, and beingentered, found the King there; with three or four Scotch lordsstanding distant in several corners of the chamber; at the sight ofwhom 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 allwho were present. Upon this he delivered his message and letters tohis Majesty in Italian; which when the King had graciously received, after a little pause, Mr. Wotton stept up to the table, and whisperedto the King in his own language that he was an Englishman, requestinga more private conference with his Majesty, and that he might beconcealed during his stay in that nation, which was promised, andreally performed by the King, all the time he remained at the Scotchcourt; he then returned to the Duke with a satisfactory account of hisemployment. 

When King James succeeded to the Throne of England, he found amongothers of Queen Elizabeth's officers, Sir Edward Wotton, afterwardslord Wotton, Comptroller of the Houshold, whom he asked one day, 'whether he knew one Henry Wotton, who had spent much time in foreigntravel?' Sir Edward replied, that he knew him well, and that he washis brother. The King then asked, where he was, and upon Sir Edward'sanswering that he believed he would soon be at Paris, send for himsays his Majesty, and when he comes to England, bid him repairprivately to me. Sir Edward, after a little wonder, asked his Majesty, whether he knew him? to which the King answered, you must restunsatisfied of that 'till you bring the gentleman to me. Not manymonths after this discourse, Sir Edward brought his brother to attendthe king, who took him in his arms, and bid him welcome under the mineof Octavio Baldi, saying, that he was the most honest, and thereforethe best, dissembler he ever met with; and seeing I know, added theKing, you want neither learning, travel, nor experience, and that Ihave had so real a testimony of your faithfulness and abilities tomanage 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 hedismissed Octavio Baldi from his present attendance, he restored himto his old name of Henry Wotton, by Which he then knighted him. 

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

When Sir Henry Wotton arrived at Venice, there subsisted between theVenetians and the Pope a very warm contention, which was prosecuted byboth parties with equal fury. The laity made many complaints againstthe two frequent practice of land being left to the church withouta licence from the state, which increased the power of the clergy, already too great, and rendered their insolence insupportable. Inconsequence of this, the state made several injunctions againstlay-persons disposing their lands in that manner. Another cause oftheir quarrel was, that the Venetians had sent to Rome, severalarticles of complaint against two priests, the abbot of Nervesa, and acanon of Vicenza, for committing such abominable crimes, as Mr. Waltonsays, it would be a shame to mention: Their complaints met with noredress, and the detestable practices of these monsters in holy ordersstill continuing, they seized their persons and committed them toprison. 

The justice or injustice of such power exercised by the Venetians, produced debates between the Republic and Pope Clement VIII. Clementsoon dying, Pope Paul the first, a man of unbounded insolence, andelated with his spiritual superiority, let loose all his rage againstthe state. He judged all resistance to be a diminution of his power, and threatened excommunication to the whole State, if a revocation wasnot instantly made, which the Venetians rejecting, he proceeded inmenaces, and at last did excommunicate the Duke, the whole Senate, andall their dominions; then he shut up the churches, charging theclergy to forbear sacred offices to any of the Venetians, till theirobedience should make them capable of absolution. The contention wasthus fomented, till a report prevailed that the Venetians were turnedProtestants, which was believed by many, as the English embassador wasso often in conference with the Senate, and that they had made alltheir proceedings known to the King of England, who would supportthem, should the Pope presume to exercise any more oppressions. Thiscircumstance made it appear plain enough to his Holiness, thathe weakened his power by exceeding it; and being alarmed lest arevolution should happen, offered the Venetians absolution upon veryeasy 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 eightyears after Sir Henry Wotton's going into Italy, he stood very high inthe King's esteem, but at last, lost his favour for some time, by anaccident too singular to be here omitted. 

When he first went embassador to Italy, as he passed through Germanyhe staid some days at Augsburgh, where having been in his formertravels well known by many of the first reputation in learning, and passing an evening in merriment, he was desired by ChristopherHecamore to write a sentence in his Album, and consenting to it, tookoccasion from some accidental conversation which happened in thecompany, to write a pleasant definition of an embassador in thesewords. "Legatus est vir bonus, peregre-missus ad mentiendum Republicæcausa;" which he chose should have been thus rendered into English: AnAmbassador is an honest Man, sent to lie abroad for the good of hisCountry; but the word lie, upon which the conceit turned, was notso expressed in Latin, as to admit a double meaning, or so fair aconstruction as Sir Henry thought, in English. About eight yearsafter, this Album fell into the hands of Gaspar Scioppius, a restlesszealot, who published books against King James, and upbraided himfor entertaining such scandalous principles, as his embassador hadexpressed by that sentence: This aspersion gained ground, and itbecame fashionable in Venice to write this definition in several glasswindows. These incidents reaching the ear of King James, he was muchdispleased with the behaviour of his embassador on that occasion, andfrom an innocent piece of witticism Sir Henry was like to pay verydear, by losing his master's favour. Upon this our author wrote twoapologies, one to Velserus, which was dispersed in Germany and Italy, and another to the King; both which were so well written, that hisMajesty upon reading them declared, "that Sir Henry Wotton hadsufficiently commutted for a greater offence. "

Upon this reconciliation, Sir Henry became more in favour with hisMajesty than ever; like friends who have been for some time separated, they meet again with double fervour, and their friendship increasesto a greater warmth. During the twenty years which Sir Henry wasambassador at Venice, he had the good fortune to be so well respectedby all the Dukes, and the leading men of the Republic, that hisinterest every year increased, and they seldom denied him any favourhe asked for his countrymen who came to Venice; which was, as Waltonexpresses it, a city of refuge for all Englishmen who were any waydistressed in that Republic. Walton proceeds to relate two particularinstances of the generosity, and tenderness of his disposition, andthe nobleness of his mind, which, as they serve to illustrate hischaracter, deserve a place here. 

There had been many Englishmen brought by commanders of their owncountry, to serve the Venetians for pay, against the Turks; and thoseEnglish, by irregularities, and imprudence, committed such offences asbrought them into prisons, and exposed them to work in gallies. Wotton could not be an unconcerned spectator of the miseries of hiscountrymen: their offences he knew proceeded rather from wantonness, and intemperance, than any real principles of dishonour; and thereforehe thought it not beneath him to become a petitioner for theirreleasement. He was happy in a successful representation of theircalamities, they were set at liberty, and had an opportunity ofreturning to their own country in comfort, in place of languishingin jails, and being slaves at the Gallies; and by this compassionateInterposition with the Republick, he had the blessings of manymiserable wretches: the highest pleasure which any human being canenjoy on this side immortality. 

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

Upon Sir Henry Wotton's coming a second time to Venice, he wasemployed as embassador to several of the German princes, and to theEmperor Ferdinando II. And this embassy to these princes was toincline them to equitable measures, for the restoration of the Queenof Bohemia, and her descendants, to their patrimonial inheritanceof the Palatinate. This was by eight months constant endeavours andattendance upon the Emperor and his court, brought to a probabilityof a successful conclusion, by a treaty; but about that time theEmperor's army fought a battle so fortunately, as put an end to theexpected treaty, and Sir Henry Wotton's hopes, who when he quittedthe Emperor's court, humbly advised him, to use his victory withmoderation, which advice the Emperor was pleased to hear graciously, being well satisfied with Wotton's behaviour during his residence athis court. He then told him, that tho' the King his master was lookedupon as an abetter of his enemy, yet he could not help demonstratinghis regard to him, by making him a present of a rich jewel ofdiamonds, worth more than ten thousand pounds. This was received withall possible respect by Sir Henry; but the next morning upon hisdeparting from Vienna, at his taking leave of the Countess of Sabrina, an Italian lady, in whose house he resided, he expressed his gratitudefor her civilities by presenting her with the jewel given him by theEmperor, which being afterwards discovered, was by the Emperor takenas an affront; but Sir Henry acknowledging his gratitude for the markof distinction shewn to him, at the same time declared, he did notchuse to receive profit from any present, given him by an enemy of hisroyal mistress, for so the Queen of Bohemia, the eldest daughter ofthe King of England, permitted him to call her. 

Upon Sir Henry Wotton's return from his embassy, he signified aninclinacion to the King to be excused from any further employment inforeign affairs, to retire from the bustle of life, and spend theevening of his days in studious ease and tranquility. His Majesty inconsequence of this request, promised him the reversion of an office, which was the place of Master of the Rolles, if he out-lived SirJulius Cæsar, who then possessed it, and was grown so old, that he wassaid to be kept alive beyond nature's course, by the prayers of themany people who daily lived upon his bounty. Here it will not beimproper to observe, that Sir Henry Wotton had, thro' a generosity oftemper, reduced his affairs to such a state, that he could not livewithout some profitable employment, as he was indebted to many personsfor money he borrowed to support his dignity in his embassy, theKing's appointment for that purpose being either not regularly paid, or too inconsiderable for the expence. This rendered it impossible forhim to wait the death of Sir Julius Cæsar; besides that place had beenlong sollicited by that worthy gentleman for his son, and it wouldhave been thought an ill-natured office, to have by any meansprevented it. 

It luckily happened at this time, that the Provostship of hisMajesty's college at Eaton became vacant by the death of Mr. Murray, for which there were many earnest and powerful sollicitations. Thisplace was admirably suited to the course of life Wotton resolved topursue, for the remaining part of his days; he had seen enough of theworld to be sick of it, and being now three-score years of age, hethought a college was the fittest place to indulge contemplation, andto rest his body and mind after a long struggle on the theatre oflife. In his suit for this place he was happily successful, andimmediately entered into holy orders, which was necessary, beforehe could take possession of his new office. Walton has related theparticular manner of his spending his time, which was divided betweenattendance upon public devotion, the more private duties of religion, and the care which his function demanded from him of the affairs ofthe college. In the year 1639 Sir Henry died in Eaton-College, andwas buried in the chapel belonging to it. He directed the followingsentence 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 ofreal and great genius, an upright statesman, a polite courtier, compassionate and benevolent to those in distress, charitable to thepoor, and in a word, an honest man and a pious christian. As a poet heseems to have no considerable genius. His versification is harmonious, and sometimes has an air of novelty, his turns are elegant, and histhoughts have both dignity and propriety to recommend them. There is alittle piece amongst his collections called the World, which we shallquote, 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 aman of restless spirit, and had a malicious pen; who in books againstKing James, took occasion from a sentence written by Sir Henry Wotton, in a German's Album, (mentioned p. 260. ) to upbraid him with whatprinciples of religion were professed by him, and his embassadorWotton, then at Venice, where the said sentence was also written inseveral 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 aneulogium 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 abook, entitled by him, Monarchia Britannica, Oxon. 1681, 8vo. 

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

Difference, and Disparity between the Estates, and Conditions ofGeorge 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 GiopvannoBembo. 

Philosophical Survey of Education, or moral Architecture. 

Aphorisms of Education. 

The great Action between Pompey and Cæsar, extracted out of the Romanand 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 arere-printed in a book, entitled, Reliquæ Wottonianæ already mentioned, Lond. 1651, 1654, 1672, and 1685, in 8vo. Published by Js. Walton, atthe End of Sir Henry Wotton's life. 

Letters to the Lord Zouch. 

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

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

Journal of his Embassies to Venice, Manuscript, written in the Libraryof 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 uparms in the time of the rebellion, being honoured by his Majesty witha captain's commission. [1] He was the son of Robert Markham, of Cothamin the county of Nottingham, Esq; and was famous for his numerousvolumes of husbandry, and horsemanship; besides what he has wrote onrural recreations and military discipline, he understood both thepractice and theory of war, and was esteemed an excellent linguist, being master of the French, Italian, and Spanish languages, from allwhich he collected observations on husbandry. One piece of dramaticpoetry which he has published, says Mr. Langbaine, will shew, that hesacrificed to Apollo and the Muses, as well as Mars and Pallas. Thisplay is extant under the title of Herod and Antipater, atragedy, printed 4to, 1622; when or where this play was acted, Mr. Langbaine cannot determine; for, says he, the imperfectionof my copy hinders my information; for the foundation, itis built on history: See Josephus. Mr. Langbaine then proceeds toenumerate 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 KingJames I. Cure of all Diseases incident to Horses, 4to. 1610. EnglishFarrier, 4to. 1649. Masterpiece, 4to. 1662. Faithful Farrier, 8vo. 1667. Perfect Horsemanship, 12mo. 1671. In Husbandry he publishedLiebault'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 theFrench books of Serris and Vinet, the Spanish of Albiterio and theItalian of Grilli and others. The Art of Husbandry, first translatedfrom the Latin of Cour. Heresbachiso, by Barnaby Googe, he revived andaugmented, 4to. 1631. He wrote besides, Farewell to Husbandry, 4to. 1620. Way to get wealth, wherein is comprised his CountryContentments, printed 4to. 1668. To this is added, Hunger'sPrevention, or the Art of Fowling, 8vo. His Epitome, 12mo. &c. --InMilitary Discipline he has published the Soldier's Accidence andGrammar, 4to. 1635--Besides these the second book of the first part ofthe English Arcadia is said to be wrote by him, in so much that hemay be accounted, says Langbaine, "if not Unus in omnibus, at leasta benefactor to the public, by those works he left behind him, whichwithout doubt perpetuate his memory. " Langbaine is lavish in hispraise, and not altogether undeservedly. To have lived a militarylife, which too often engages its professors in a dissipated course ofpleasure, and at the same time, make himself master of such a varietyof knowledge, and yield so much application to study, entitles himto hold some rank in literature. In poetry he has no name, perhapsbecause he did not apply himself to it; so true is the observationthat a great poet is seldom any thing else. Poetry engages all thepowers of the mind, and when we consider how difficult it is toacquire a name in a profession which demands so many requisites, itwill not appear strange that the sons of Apollo should seldom befound to yield sufficient attention to any other excellence, so as topossess 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 anactor, as appears from the evidence of Mr. Kirkman, and likewise froma piece written by him called, The Actor's Vindication. Langbainecalls his plays second rate performances, but the wits of his timewould not permit them to rank so high. He was according to his ownconfession, one of the most voluminous writers, that ever attempteddramatic poetry in any language, and none but the celebrated SpaniardLopez de Vega can vie with him. In his preface to one of his plays heobserves, that this Tragi-comedy is one preserved amongst two hundredand twenty, "in which I have had either an entire hand, or at least amain finger. " Of this prodigious number, Winstanley, Langbaine, andJacob agree, that twenty-four only remain; the reason Heywood himselfgives is this; "That many of them by shifting and change of companieshave been negligently lost; others of them are still retained in thehands of some actors, who think it against their profit to have themcome in print, and a third, that it was never any great ambition in meto be voluminously read. " These seem to be more plausible reasons thanWinstanley gives for their miscarriage; "It is said that he not onlyacted himself every day, but also wrote each day a sheet; and that hemight lose no time, many of his plays were composed in the tavern, onthe backside of tavern bills, which may be the occasion that so manyof 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 anypart of them was wrote on a tavern bill, seems incredible, the tavernbill being seldom brought upon the table till the guests are going todepart; besides as there is no account of Heywood's being poor, andwhen his employment is considered, it is almost impossible he couldhave been so; there is no necessity to suppose this very strangeaccount to be true. A poet not long dead was often obliged to studyin the fields, and write upon scraps of paper, which he occasionallyborrowed; but his case was poverty, and absolute want. [1] Langbaineobserves of our author, that he was a general scholar, and a tolerablelinguist, as his several translations from Lucian, Erasmus, Texert, Beza, Buchanan, and other Latin and Italian authors sufficientlymanifest. Nay, further, says he, "in several of his plays, he hasborrowed many ornaments from the ancients, as more particularly in hisplay called the Ages, he has interspersed several things borrowed fromHomer, Virgil, Ovid, Seneca, Plautus, which extremely set them off. "What opinion the wits of his age had of him, may appear from thefollowing verses, extracted from of one of the poets of thosetimes. [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 thatlight; if he had, his biographers would scarce have omitted sosingular a circumstance, besides he seems to have addicted himselftoo much to poetry, to study the art of playing, which they who arevotaries of the muses, or are favoured by them, seldom think worththeir while, and is indeed beneath their genius. 

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

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 twoplays, are taken from Stow, Speed, and Baker's chronicles in the reignof King Richard I. 

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

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

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

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

7. Iron Age, the second part; a History containing the Death ofPenthesilea, Paris, Priam, and Hecuba: the burning of Troy, the Deathsof 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 ThomasManwaring, Esq; for the plot of both parts, see Homer, Virgil, DaresPhrygius; for the Episodes, Ovid's Epistles, Metamorph, Lucian'sDialogues, &c. 

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

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

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

The Fair Maid of the West, or a Girl worth Gold, 1631. This play wasacted before the King and Queen. Our author in his epistle prefixed tothis play, pleads modesty in not exposing his plays to the public viewof the world in numerous sheets, and a large volume under the title ofWorks, as others, by which he would seem tacitly to arraign some ofhis cotemporaries for ostentation, and want of modesty. Langbaine isof opinion, that Heywood in this case levelled the accusation atBen Johnson, since no other poet, in those days, gave his plays thepompous title of Works, of which Sir John Suckling has taken notice inhis 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 BenJohnson, 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 toThomas Hammond, of Gray's-Inn, Esq;

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

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

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

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

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

18. The Fair Maid of the Exchance; with the Merry Humours of theCripple 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 timesbefore 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'sservants. 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 seeSpeed, Hollinshed and other chronicles. 

This author has published several other works in verse and prose, ashis Hierarchy of Angels, above-mentioned; the Life and Troubles ofQueen 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 hisfather's name, are differently assigned by authors, who have mentionedhim. Mr. Loyd says[1], that he was son of Thomas Cartwright of Burfordin Oxfordshire, and born August 16, in the year 1615; Mr. Wood[2], that he was the son of William Cartwright, and born at Northway, nearTewksbury in Gloucestershire in September 1611, that his father haddissipated a fair inheritance he knew not how, and as his last refugeturned inn-keeper at Cirencester; when living in competence, heprocured his son, a youth of a promising genius, to be educated underMr. William Topp, master of the free school in that town. From thencehe was removed to Westminster school, being chosen a King's scholar, when compleating his former learning, under the care of Mr. LambertOsbaldiston, he was elected a student in Christ Church in Oxford, in 1628, under the tuition of Mr. Jerumael Terrent[3], having gonethrough 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 juniorproctor of the university; he was also metaphysical reader, and it wasgenerally said, that those lectures were never performed better thanby Mr. Cartwright, and his predecessor Mr. Thomas Barlow of Queen'sCollege, afterwards lord bishop of Lincoln. [5] This ingeniousgentleman died of a malignant fever, called the Camp-disease, whichthen 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 byall ranks of men, and the King and Queen, then at Oxford, frequentlyenquired after him in the time of his sickness, and expressed greatconcern for his death. Mr. Cartwright was as remarkable for theendowments of his person as of his mind; his body (as Langbaineexpresses it) "being as handsome as his soul. He was, says he, anexpert linguist, understanding not only Greek and Latin, but Frenchand Italian, as perfectly as his mother tongue; an excellent orator, and at the same time an admirable poet, a quality which Cicero withall his pains could never attain. " The editor of his works appliesto him the saying of Aristotle concerning Æschron the poet, "that hecould not tell what Æschron could not do, " and Dr. Fell, bishop ofOxford, said of him, "Cartwright was the utmost a man can come to. "Ben Johnson likewise so highly valued him, that he said, "My sonCartwright writes all like a man. " There are extant of this author's, four plays, besides other poems, all which were printed together in1651, to which are prefixed above fifty copies of commendatory versesby 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 wasacted, but it was esteemed a good Comedy. 

3, Royal Slave, a Tragi-comedy, presented to the King and Queen, bythe students of Christ Church in Oxford, August 30, 1636; presentedsince before both their Majesties at Hampton Court by the King'sservants. As for the noble stile of the play itself, and the readyaddress, and graceful carriage of the students (amongst which Dr. Busby, the famous master of Westminster school; proved himself asecond Roscius) did exceed all things of that nature they had everseen. The Queen, in particular, so much admired it, that in Novemberfollowing, she sent for the habits and scenes to Hampton Court, shebeing desirous to see her own servants represent the same play, whoseprofession it was, that she might the better judge of the severalperformances, and to whom the preference was due: the sentence wasuniversally given by all the spectators in favour of the gown, thoughnothing was wanting on Mr. Cartwright's side to inform the players aswell as the Scholars, in what belonged to the action and delivery ofeach 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 inverse. 

Amongst his poems, there are several concerning the dramatic poets, and their writings, which must not be forgot; as these two copieswhich he wrote on Mr. Thomas Killegrew's plays, the Prisoner, andClaracilla; two copies on Fletcher, and one in memory of Ben Johnson, which are so excellent, that the publisher of Mr. Cartwright's poemsspeaks of them with rapture in the preface, viz. 'what had Ben saidhad he read his own Eternity, in that lasting elegy given him by ourauthor. ' Mr. Wood mentions some other works of Cartwright's; 1st. Poemata Graeca et Latina. 2d. An Offspring of Mercy issuing out of theWomb 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 Monthof November, in relation to the Crown and Royal Family; a Poem, London1671, in a sheet, 4to. 4th. Poems and Verses, containing Airs forseveral Voices, set by Mr. Henry Lawes. 

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

 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 Thorpin that county, and as a member of St. Mary's Hall, was matriculatedin the university in the beginning of December 1589; how long heremained at the university Wood is not able to determine. In the year1610 he began a long journey, and after he had travelled throughseveral parts of Europe, he visited many cities, especiallyConstantinople, and countries under the Turkish empire, as Greece, Egypt, and the Holy Land[1]. Afterwards he took a view of the remoteparts of Italy, and the Islands adjoining: Then he went to Rome; theantiquities of that place were shewn him by Nicholas Fitzherbert, once an Oxford student, and who had the honour of Mr. Sandys'sacquaintance. Thence our author went to Venice, and from that returnedto England, where digesting his notes, he published his travels. Sandys, who appears to have been a man of excellent parts, of a piousand generous disposition, did not, like too many travellers, turn hisattention upon the modes of dress, and the fashions of the severalcourts which is but a poor acquisition; but he studied the genius, thetempers, the religion, and the governing principles of the people hevisited, as much as his time amongst them would permit. He returnedin 1612, being improved, says Wood, 'in several respects, by this his'large journey, being an accomplished gentleman, as being master ofseveral languages, of affluent and ready discourse, and excellentcomportment. ' He had also a poetical fancy, and a zealous inclinationto all literature, which made his company acceptable to the mostvirtuous men, and scholars of his time. He also wrote a Paraphrase onthe Psalms of David, and upon the Hymns dispersed throughout the Oldand New Testament, London, 1636, reprinted there in folio 1638, withother 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 NewTestament. This Paraphrase on David's Psalms was one of the books thatCharles I. Delighted so much to read in: as he did in Herbert's DivinePoems, Dr. Hammond's Works, and Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, whilehe was a prisoner in the Isle of Wight[2]. 

Paraphrase on the Divine Poems, viz. On the Psalms of David, onEcclesiastes, and on the Song of Solomon, London, 1637. Some, if notall of the Psalms of David, had vocal compositions set to them byWilliam and Henry Lawes, with a thorough bass, for an Organ, in fourlarge books or volumes in 4to. Our author also translated into EnglishOvid's Metamorphoses, London, 1627. Virgil's first book of Æneisprinted with the former. Mr. Dryden in his preface to some of histranslations of Ovid's Metamorphoses, calls him the best versifier ofthe last age. 

Christ's Passion, written in Latin by the famous Hugo Grotius, andtranslated by our author, to which he also added notes; this subjecthad 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 wasreprinted with figures in 8vo. London, 1688. Concerning our authorbut few incidents are known, he is celebrated by cotemporary andsubsequent wits, as a very considerable poet, and all have agreed tobestow upon him the character of a pious worthy man. He died in theyear 1643, at the house of his nephew Mr. Wiat at Boxley Abbey inKent, in the chancel of which parish church he is buried, thoughwithout a monument, only as Wood says with the following, which standsin the common register belonging to this church. 

Georgius Sandys, Poetarum Anglorum sui sæculi Princeps, sepultus suitMartii 7° stilo Anglico. Anno Pom. 1643. It would be injurious to thememory of Sandys, to dismiss his life without informing the readerthat the worthy author stood high in the opinion of that mostaccomplished young nobleman the lord viscount Falkland, by whom tobe praised, is the highest compliment that can be paid to merit; hislordship addresses a copy of verses to Grotius, occasioned by hisChristus 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 likewife the epithet of a fine gentleman, and observes, that though he hadtravelled to foreign countries to read life, and acquire knowledge, yet he was worthy, like another Livy, of having men of eminence fromevery country come to visit him. From the quotation here given, itwill be seen that Sandys was a smooth versifier, and Dryden in hispreface to his translation of Virgil, positively says, that had Mr. Sandys gone before him in the whole translation, he would by no meanshave 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 inOxfordshire, about the year 1610[1]. For some years he receivedhis education in Ireland, where his father carried him when he wasappointed Lord Deputy of that kingdom in 1622; he had his academicallearning in Trinity College in Dublin, and in St. John's College, Cambridge. Clarendon relates, "that before he came to be twenty yearsof age, he was master of a noble fortune, which descended to him bythe gift of a grandfather, without passing through his father ormother, who were both alive; shortly after that, and before he was ofage, being in his inclination a great lover of the military life, hewent into the low countries in order to procure a command, and to givehimself up to it, but was diverted from it by the compleat inactivityof that summer. " He returned to England, and applied himself to asevere course of study; first to polite literature and poetry, inwhich he made several successful attempts. In a very short time hebecame perfectly master of the Greek tongue; accurately read all theGreek historians, and before he was twenty three years of age, he hadperused all the Greek and Latin Fathers. 

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

In 1640 he was chosen a Member of the House of Commons, for Newport inthe Isle of Wight, in the Parliament which began at Westminster the13th of April in the same year, and from the debates, says Clarendon, which were managed with all imaginable gravity and sobriety, 'hecontracted such a reverence for Parliaments, that he thoughtit absolutely impossible they ever could produce mischief orinconvenience to the nation, or that the kingdom could be tolerablyhappy in the intermission of them, and from the unhappy, andunseasonable dissolution of the Parliament he harboured some prejudiceto the court. '

In 1641, John, lord Finch, Keeper of the Great Seal, was impeached bylord Falkland, in the name of the House of Commons, and his lordship, says Clarendon, 'managed that prosecution with great vigour andsharpness, as also against the earl of Strafford, contrary to hisnatural gentleness of temper, but in both these cases he was misled bythe 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 otherbishops, which inclined him to concur in the first bill to take awaythe votes of the bishops in the House of Lords. The reason of hisprejudice against Laud was, the extraordinary passion and impatienceof contradiction discoverable in that proud prelate; who could notcommand his temper, even at the Council Table when his Majesty waspresent, but seemed to lord it over all the rest, not by the force ofargument, but an assumed superiority to which he had no right. Thisnettled lord Falkland, and made him exert his spirit to humble andoppose the supercilious churchman. This conduct of his lordship's, gave Mr. Hampden occasion to court him to his party, who was justlyplaced by the brilliance of his powers, at the head of the opposition;but after a longer study of the laws of the realm, and conversationwith the celebrated Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, he changed hisopinion, 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 abovecorruption of any kind. 

When he was vested with that high dignity, two parts of his conductwere very remarkable; he could never persuade himself that it waslawful to employ spies, or give any countenance or entertainment tosuch persons, who by a communication of guilt, or dissimulation ofmanners, wind themselves into such trusts and secrets, as enable themto make discoveries; neither could he ever suffer himself to openletters, upon a suspicion that they might contain matters of dangerousconsequence, and proper for statesmen to know. As to the first hecondemned them as void of all honour, and who ought justly to beabandoned to infamy, and that no single preservation could be worth sogeneral a wound and corruption of society, as encouraging such peoplewould carry with it. The last, he thought such a violation of the lawof nature, that no qualification by office could justify him in thetrespass, and tho' the necessity of the times made it clear, thatthose advantages were not to be declined, and were necessary to bepractised, 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 hadno intention to raise war upon his Parliament. At the same time hesubscribed to levy twenty horse for his Majesty's service, upon whichhe was excepted from the Parliament's favour, in the instructionsgiven by the two Houses to their general the Earl of Essex. Heattended the King to Edgehill fight, where after the enemy was routedhe was exposed to imminent danger, by endeavouring to save those whohad thrown away their arms. He was also with his Majesty at Oxford, and during his residence there, the King went one day to see thepublic library, where he was shewed, among other books, a Virgil noblyprinted, 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 comeup, 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 whoobserved it, would likewise try his own fortune in the same manner, hoping he might fall upon some passage that had no relation to hiscase, and thereby divert the king's thoughts from any impression theother might make upon him; but the place Lord Falkland opened was moresuited to his destiny than the other had been to the King's, being thefollowing expressions of Evander, on the untimely death of his sonPallas. 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 andvivacity was clouded, and a kind of sadness and dejection of spiritstole upon him. After the resolution of the two houses not to admitany treaty of peace, those indispositions which had before touchedhim, grew into a habit of gloominess; and he who had been easy andaffable to all men, became on a sudden less communicable, sad, andextremely affected with the spleen. In his dress, to which he hadformerly paid an attention, beyond what might have been expected froma man of so great abilities, and so much business, he became negligentand slovenly, and in his reception of suitors, so quick, sharp, andsevere, that he was looked upon as proud and imperious. 

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

This extream uneasiness seems to have hurried him on to hisdestruction; for the morning before the battle of Newbery, he calledfor a clean shirt, and being asked the reason of it, answered, "Thatif he were slain in the battle, they should not find his body in foullinen. " Being persuaded by his friends not to go into the fight, asbeing no military officer, "He said he was weary of the times, foresawmuch misery to his country, and did believe he should be out of ite're night. " Putting himself therefore into the first rank of the LordByron's regiment, he was shot with a musket in the lower part of hisbelly, on the 20th of September 1643, and in the instant falling fromhis horse, his body was not found till next morning. 

Thus died in the bed of honour, the incomparable Lord Falkland, onwhom all his contemporaries bestowed the most lavish encomiums, andvery deservedly raised altars of praise to his memory. Among all hispanegyrists, Clarendon is the foremost, and of highest authority; andin his words therefore, I shall give his character to the reader. "Inthis unhappy battle, (says he) was slain the Lord viscount Falkland, a person of such prodigious parts, of learning and knowledge, of thatinimitable sweetness and delight in conversation, and so flowing andobliging a humanity and goodness to mankind, and of that primitivesimplicity and integrity of life, that if there were no other brandupon this odious and accursed civil war, than that single loss, itmust be most infamous and execrable to all posterity. He was a greatcherisher of wit and fancy, and good parts in any man; and if he foundthem clouded with poverty and want, a most liberal and bountifulpatron towards them, even above his fortune. " His lordship thenenumerates the unshaken loyalty and great abilities of this younghero, in the warmth of a friend; he shews him in the most engaginglight, and of all characters which in the course of this work we metwith, except Sir Philip Sidney's, lord Falkland's seems to be the mostamiable, and his virtues are confessed by his enemies of the oppositefaction. The noble historian, in his usual masterly manner, thusconcludes his panegyric on his deceased friend. "He fell in the 34thyear of his age, having so much dispatched the true business of life, that the eldest rarely attain to that immense knowledge, and theyoungest enter into the world with more innocency: whosoever leadssuch a life, needs be less anxious upon how short warning it istaken from him. "----As to his person, he was little, and of no greatstrength; his hair was blackish, and somewhat flaggy, and his eyesblack and lively. His body was buried in the church of Great Tew. Hisworks 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. Oxford1645, 410. George Holland, a Cambridge scholar, and afterwards aRomish priest, having written an answer to this discourse of theInfallibility, the Lord Falkland made a reply to it, entitled, 5. A View of some Exceptions made against the Discourse of theInfallibility of the Church of Rome, printed at Oxford, 1646, 410. He assisted Mr. Chillingworth in his book of the Religion of theProtestants, &c. This particular we learn from Bishop Barlow in hisGenuine Remains, who says, that when Mr. Chillingworth undertookthe defence of Dr. Pottus's book against the Jesuit, he was almostcontinually at Tew with my Lord, examining the reasons of bothparties pro and con; and their invalidity and consequence; where Mr. Chillingworth had the benefit of my Lord's company, and of his goodlibrary. 

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, atragedy, 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 JohnSuckling, comptroller of the houshold to that monarch. He was bornat Witham, in the county of Middlesex, 1613, with a remarkablecircumstance of his mother's going eleven months with him, whichnaturalists look upon as portending a hardy and vigorous constitution. A strange circumstance is related of him, in his early years, in alife prefixed to his works. He spoke Latin, says the author, at fiveyears old, and wrote it at nine; if either of these circumstances istrue, it would seem as if he had learned Latin from his nurse, norever heard any other language, so that it was native to him; but tospeak Latin at five, in consequence of study, is almost impossible. 

The polite arts, which our author chiefly admired, were music andpoetry; how far he excelled in the former, cannot be known, nor canwe agree with his life-writer already mentioned, that he excelled inboth. Sir John Suckling seems to have been no poet, nor to have hadeven the most distant appearances of it; his lines are generally sounmusical, that none can read them without grating their ears; beingauthor of several plays, he may indeed be called a dramatist, andconsequently comes within our design; but as he is destitute ofpoetical conceptions, as well as the power of numbers, he has nopretensions to rank among the good poets. 

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

After Suckling had made himself acquainted with the constitution ofhis own country, and taken a survey of the most remarkable things athome, he travelled to digest and enlarge his notions, from a view ofother countries, where, says the above-mentioned author, he made acollection of their virtues, without any tincture of their vices andfollies, only that some were of opinion he copied the French air toomuch, which being disagreeable to his father, who was remarkable forhis gravity, and, indeed, inconsistent with, the gloominess of thetimes, he was reproached for it, and it was imputed to him as theeffects of his travels; but some were of opinion, that it was morenatural than acquired, the easiness of his manner and address beingsuitable to the openness of his heart, the gaiety, wit and gallantry, which were so conspicuous in him; and he seems to have valued himselfupon nothing more than the character of the Courtier and the FineGentleman, which he so far attained, that he is allowed to have hadthe peculiar happiness, of making every thing he did become him. While Suckling was thus assiduous about acquiring the reputation ofa finished courtier, and a man of fashion, it is no wonder that heneglected 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 acampaign under the great Gustavus Adolphus, where he was presentat three battles and five sieges, besides other skirmishes betweenParties; and from such a considerable scene of action, gained as muchexperience in six months, as otherwise he would have done in as manyyears. 

After his return to England, the Civil War being then raging, heraised a troop of horse for the King's service, entirely at his owncharge, so richly and compleatly mounted, that it stood him in 1200l. But his zeal for his Majesty did not meet with the success itdeserved, which very much affected him; and soon after this he wasseized with a fever, and died in the 28th year of his age. In whichshort space he had done enough to procure him the esteem of thepolitest men who conversed with him; but as he had set out in theworld with all the advantages of birth, person, education, andfortune, peoples expectations of him were raised to too great aheighth, which seldom fails to issue in a disappointment. He makes nofigure in the history of these times, perhaps from the immaturity ofhis death, which prevented him from action. This might be one reasonfor his being neglected in the annals of the civil war: another mightbe, his unnecessary, or rather ridiculous shew of finery, which heaffected in decorating his troop of horse. This could not fail to drawdown contempt upon him, for in time of public distress, nothing can bemore foolish than to wear the livery of prosperity; and surely an armywould have no great reason to put much confidence in the conduct orcourage of that general; who in the morning of a Battle shouldbe found in his tent perfuming his hair, or arraying himself inembroidery. 

Mr. Lloyd, in his memoirs of our author, observes, that his thoughtswere not so loose as his expressions, nor his life so vain as histhoughts; and at the same time makes an allowance for his youth andsanguine complexion; which, says he, a little more time and experiencewould have corrected. Of this, we have instances in his occasionaldiscourses about religion to my Lord Dorset, to whom he was related;and in his thoughts of the posture of affairs; in both which he hasdiscovered that he could think as coolly, and reason as justly as menof 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'sworks; but in justice to Suckling, before we give an account of hisplays, we shall transcribe one of his letters, when we are persuadedthe reader will join in the opinion already given of his works ingeneral; it is addressed to his mistress, and has something in it gayand sprightly. 

This verifies the opinion of Mr. Dryden, that love makes a man arhimster, 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. Langbainesays, 'that it was much prized in his Time; and that the last Act isso altered, that it is at the pleasure of the Actors to make it aTragedy, or Tragi-Comedy. '

2. Brennoralt, or the Discontented Colonel; a Tragedy, presented at aprivate 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 inBlack-Fryars, by his Majesty's Servants. 

 * * * * *

PETER HAUSTED. 

This gentleman was born at Oundle in Northamptonshire, and receivedhis education in Queen's-College, Cambridge. After he had taken hisdegrees, he entered into holy orders, became curate of Uppingham inRutlandshire; and according to Wood in his Fasti Oxon. Was at lengthmade rector of Hadham in Hertfordshire. Upon the breaking out of thecivil wars, he was made chaplain to Spencer Earl of Northampton, towhom he adhered in all his engagements for the Royal Interest, andwas with him in the castle of Banbury in Oxfordshire, when it wasvigorously defended against the Parliament's forces. In that castleMr. Wood says, he concluded his last moments in the year 1645, and wasburied within the precincts of it, or else in the church belonging toBanbury. 

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

Rival Friends, a Comedy; acted before the King and Queen when theirMajesties paid a Visit to the University of Cambridge, upon the 19thof March, 1631; which Mr. Langbaine thus characterizes. "It was crieddown by Boys, Faction, Envy, and confident Ignorance; approved by theJudicious, and exposed to the Public by the Author, printed in4to. Lond. 1632, and dedicated by a copy of Verses, to the RightHonourable, Right Reverend, Right Worshipful, or whatever he be, shallbe, or whom he hereafter may call patron. The Play is commended by acopy of Latin Verses, and two in English. The Prologue is a Dialoguebetween Venus, Thetis, and Phoebus, sung by two Trebles, and a Base. Venus appearing at a Window above, as risen, calling to Sol, who layin Thetis lap, at the East side of the Stage, canopy'd with an AzureCurtain. Our Author, " continues Langbaine, "seems to be much of theHumour of Ben Johnson, whose greatest Weakness was, that he could notbear Censure, and has so great a Value for Ben's Writings, that hisScene between Loveall, Mungrel, and Hammeshin Act 3. Scene 7, iscopied from Ben Johnson's Silent Woman, between True-wit, Daw, andLa-fool, Act 4. Scene 5. "

2. Ten Sermons preached upon several Sundays, and Saints Days, London1636, 4to. To which is added an Assize Sermon. 

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

This is a Poem, and the Title of it was given by King Charles I. Whoseeing it in Manuscript, with the Title of a Sermon to the People, healtered it, and caused it to be called a Lecture, being much delightedwith 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 noinconsiderable rank. We had at first some doubt whether he fell withinour design, as being no Englishman, but upon observing that Mr. Langbaine has given a place to the earl of Stirling, a man of muchinferior note; and that our author, though a Scotchman, wroteextremely pure and elegant English, and his life, that is fruitful ofa great many incidents, without further apology, it is here presentedto the reader. 

He was born the 13th of November, 1585; his father was Sir JohnDrummond of Hawthornden, who was Gentleman Usher to King James VI. But did not enjoy that place long, being in three months after hewas raised to his new dignity, taken away by death[1]. The family ofDrummond 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 schoolat Edinburgh, where the early promises of that extraordinary genius, which afterwards appeared in him, became very conspicuous. He was indue time sent to the university of Edinburgh, where after the ordinarystay, he was made Master of Arts. When his course at the universitywas finished, he did not, like the greatest part of giddy students, give over reading, and vainly imagine they have a sufficient stock oflearning: he had too much sense thus to deceive himself; he knew thatan education at the university is but the ground-work of knowledge, and that unless a man digests what he has there learned, andendeavours to produce it into life with advantage, so many yearsattendance were but entirely thrown away. Being convinced of thistruth, he continued to read the best authors of antiquity, whom he notonly retained in his memory, but so digested, that he became quitemaster of them, and able to make such observations on their geniusand writings, as fully shewed that his judgment had been sufficientlyexercised in reading them. 

In the year 1606 his father sent him into France, he being then onlytwenty-one years old. He studied at Bourges the civil law, with greatdiligence and applause, and was master not only of the dictates ofthe professors, but made also his own observations on them, whichoccasioned the learned president Lockhart to observe, that if Mr. Drummond had followed the practice, he might have made the best figureof any lawyer in his time; but like all other men of wit, he saw morecharms in Euripides, Sophocles, Seneca, and other the illustriousancients, than in the dry wranglings of the law; as there have beenoften 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 tohave met with one amongst them who continued in that profession, acircumstance not much in its favour, and is a kind of proof, that theprofessors of it are generally composed of men who are capable ofapplication, but without genius. Mr. Drummond having, as we havealready observed, a sovereign contempt for the law, applied himself tothe sublimer studies of poetry and history, in both which he becamevery eminent. Having relinquished all thoughts of the bar, orappearing in public, he retired to his pleasant seat at Hawthornden, and there, by reading the Greek and Latin authors, enriched the worldwith the product of his solitary hours. After he had recovered a verydangerous fit of sickness, he wrote his Cypress Grove, a piece ofexcellent prose, both for the fineness of the stile, and the sublimityand piety of the sentiments: In which he represents the vanity andinstability of human affairs; teaches a due contempt of the world;proposes consolations against the fear of death, and gives us a viewof eternal happiness. Much about this time he wrote the Flowers ofSion in verse. Though the numbers in which these poems are wrote arenot now very fashionable, yet the harmony is excellent, and during thereign of King James and Charles I. We have met with no poet who seemsto have had a better ear, or felt more intimately the passion hedescribes. The writer of his life already mentioned, observes, thatnotwithstanding his close retirement, love stole upon him, andentirely subdued his heart. He needed not to have assigned retirementas a reason why it should seem strange that love grew upon him, forretirement in its own nature is the very parent of love. When a manconverses with but few ladies, he is apt to fall in love with herwho charms him most; whereas were his attention dissipated, and hisaffections bewildered by variety, he would be preserved from love bynot being able to fix them; which is one reason why we always findpeople in the country have more enthusiastic notions of love, thanthose who move in the hurry of life. This beautiful young lady, withwhom Mr. Drummond was enamoured, was daughter of Mr. Cunningham ofBarnes, of an ancient and honourable family. He made his addresses toher in the true spirit of gallantry, and as he was a gentleman who hadseen the world, and consequently was accomplished in the elegancies oflife, he was not long in exciting proper returns of passion; he gainedher affections, and when the day of the marriage was appointed, andall things ready for its solemnization, she was seized with a fever, and snatched from him, when his imagination had figured those scenesof rapture which naturally fill the mind of a bridegroom. As ourauthor was a poet, he no doubt was capable of forming still a greaterideal fealt, than a man of ordinary genius, and as his mistress was, as Rowe expresses it, 'more than painting can express, ' or 'youthfulpoets fancy when they love, ' those who have felt that delicatepassion, may be able in some measure to judge of the severity ofdistress into which our poetical bridegroom was now plunged: Afterthe fervours of sorrow had in some measure subsided, he expressed hisgrief for her in several letters and poems, and with more passionand sincerity celebrated his dead mistress, than others praise theirliving ones. This extraordinary shock occasioned by the young lady'sdeath, on whom he doated with such excessive fondness, so affected hisspirits, 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 allthe famous universities, conversed with the learned men, and made anexcellent collection of the best ancient Greek, and of the modernSpanish, French, and Italian books. Mr. Drummond, though a scholar anda man of genius, did not think it beneath him to improve himself inthose gay accomplishments which are so peculiar to the French, andwhich never fail to set off wit and parts to the best advantage. He studied music, and is reported to have possessed the genteelaccomplishment of dancing, to no inconsiderable degree. 

After a long stay of eight years abroad, he returned again to hisnative country, where a civil war was ready to break out. He thenfound that as he could be of no service by his action, he might atleast by his retirement, and during the confusion, he went to the featof his Brother-in-law, Sir John Scott, of Scotts Tarvat, a man oflearning and good sense. In this interval it is supposed he wrote hisHistory of the Five James's, successively Kings of Scotland, whichis so excellent a work, whether we consider the exact conduct of thestory, the judicious reflections, and the fine language, that noHistorian either of the English or Scotch nation (the lord Clarendonexcepted) has shewn a happier talent for that species of writing, which tho' it does not demand the highest genius, yet is as difficultto attain, as any other kind of literary excellence. This work wasreceived in England with as much applause, as if it had been writtenby a countryman of their own, and about English affairs. It was firstpublished six or seven years after the author's death, with a preface, or introduction by Mr. Hall of Grays-Inn, who, tho' not much disposedto think favourably of the Scotch nation, has yet thus done justice toMr. Drummond; for his manner of writing, says he, "though he treats ofthings that are rather many than great, and rather troublesome thanglorious; yet he has brought so much of the main together, as it maybe modestly said, none of that nation has done before him, and for hisway of handling it, he has sufficiently made it appear, how conversanthe was with the writings of venerable antiquity, and how generouslyhe has emulated them by a happy imitation, for the purity of thatlanguage is much above the dialect he wrote in; his descriptionslively and full, his narrations clear and pertinent, his orationseloquent, and fit for the persons who speak, and his reflections solidand mature, so that it cannot be expected that these leaves can beturned over without as much pleasure as profit, especially meetingwith so many glories, and trophies of our ancestors. " In this historyMr. Drummond has chiefly followed bishop Elphiston, and has given adifferent turn to things from Buchanan, whom a party of the Scotchaccuse of being a pensioner of Queen Elizabeth's, and as he joinedinterest with the earl of Murray, who wanted to disturb the reign ofhis much injured sister Mary Queen of Scots, he is strongly suspectedof being a party writer, and of having misrepresented the Scotchtransactions of old, in order to serve some scheme of policy. 

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

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

Our author, who we have already seen, suffered so much by the immaturefate of his first mistress, thought no more of love for many yearsafter her decease, but seeing by accident one Elizabeth Logan, grandchild to Sir Robert Logan, who by the great resemblance she boreto his first favourite, rekindled again the flame of love; she wasbeautiful in his eyes because she recalled to his mind the dear imageof 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 tohim several children; William, who was knighted in Charles II'stime; Robert, and Elizabeth, who was married to one Dr. Henderson, aphysician, at Edinburgh. 

In the time of the public troubles, Mr. Drummond, besides composinghis history, wrote several tracts against the measures of thecovenanters, and those engaged in the opposition of Charles I. In apiece 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, fromindisputable arguments, and the histories of past times. The greatmarquis of Montrose writ a letter to him, desiring him to print thisIrene, as the best means to quiet the minds of the distracted people;he likewise sent him a protection, dated August, 1645, immediatelyafter the battle of Kylsyth, with another letter, in which he highlycommends Mr. Drummond's learning and loyalty. Besides this work ofIrene, he wrote the Load Star, and an Address to the Noblemen, Barons, Gentlemen, &c. Who leagued themselves for the defence of the libertiesand religion of Scotland, the whole purport of which is, to calmthe disturbed minds of the populace, to reason the better sort intoloyalty, and to check the growing evils which he saw would be theconsequence of their behaviour. Those of his own countrymen, for whomhe had the greatest esteem, were Sir William Alexander, afterwardsearl of Stirling, Sir Robert Carr, afterwards earl of Ancram, fromwhom the present marquis of Lothian is descended, Dr. Arthur Johnston, physician to King Charles I. And author of a Latin Paraphrase of thePsalms, and Mr. John Adamson, principal of the college of Edinburgh. He had great intimacy and correspondence with the two famous Englishpoets, Michael Drayton, and Ben Johnson, the latter of whom travelledfrom London on foot, to see him at his seat at Hawthornden. Duringthe time Ben remained with Mr. Drummond, they often held conversationabout poetry and poets, and Mr. Drummond has preserved the heads ofwhat passed between them; and as part of it is very curious, andserves to illustrate the character of Johnson, we have inserted it inhis life: though it perhaps was not altogether fair in Mr. Drummond, to commit to writing things that passed over a bottle, and whichperhaps were heedlesly advanced. It is certain some of the particularswhich Mr. Drummond has preferred, are not much in Ben's favour, and asfew people are so wise as not to speak imprudently sometimes, so itis not the part of a man, who invites another to his table, toexpose-what may there drop inadvertently; but as Mr. Drummond had onlymade memorandums, perhaps with no resolution to publish them, he maystand acquitted of part of this charge. It is reported of our authorthat he was very smart, and witty in his repartees, and had a mostexcellent talent at extempore versifying, above any poet of his time. In the year 1645, when the plague was raging in Scotland, our authorcame 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 twomiles further to Kirrimuir, where he was well received, and kindlyentertained. Being informed that the towns of Forfar and Kirrimuirhad a contest about a piece of ground called the Muirmoss, he wrotea letter to the Provost of Forfar, to be communicated to thetown-council in haste: It was imagined this letter came from theEstates, who were then sitting at St. Andrew's; so the Common-Councilwas called with all expedition, and, the minister sent for to pray fordirection and assistance in answering the letter, which was opened ina 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 ofForfar. As our author was a great cavalier, and addicted to the King'sparty, he was forced by the reformers to send men to the army whichfought against the King, and his estate lying in three differentcounties; he had not occasion to send one entire man, but halves, andquarters, and such like fractions, that is, the money levied upon himas his share, did not amount to the maintaining one man, but perhapshalf as much, and so on through the several counties, where hisestates 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 theprevailing party, and for his verses and discourses frequentlysummoned before their circular tables. In the short account of hislife written by himself, he says, 'that he never endeavoured toadvance his fortune, or increase such things as were left him by hisparents, as he foresaw the uncertainty and shortness of life, andthought this world's advantages not worth struggling for. ' The year1649, remarkable for the beheading of Charles I. Put likewise a periodto the life of our author: Upon hearing the dismal news that hisSovereign's blood was shed on a scaffold, he was so overwhelmed withgrief, and being worn down with study, he could not overcome theshock, 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 tohis loyalty. He was a man of fine natural endowments, which werecultivated by reading and travelling; he spoke the Italian, Spanish, and French languages as well as his mother tongue; he was a judiciousand great historian, a delicate poet, a master of polite erudition, a loyal subject, a friend to his country, and to sum up all, a piouschristian. 

Before his works are prefixed several copies of verses in his praise, with which we shall not trouble the reader, but conclude the lifeof this great man, with the following sonnet from his works, as aspecimen 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 themost material part, of this account of Mr. Drummond, from a life ofhim 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 wasborn, that his family was originally a branch of the Macdonalds. Alexander Macdonald, their ancestor, obtained from the family ofArgyle a grant of the lands of Menstry, in Clackmananshire, where theyfixed their residence, and took their sirnames from the Christian nameof their predecessor[1]. Our author was born in the reign of QueenElizabeth, and during the minority of James VI. Of Scotland, but onwhat year cannot be ascertained; he gave early discoveries of a risinggenius, and much improved the fine parts he had from nature, by a verypolite and extensive education. He first travelled abroad as tutor tothe earl of Argyle, and was a considerable time with that nobleman, while they visited foreign countries. After his return, being happyin so great a patron as the earl of Argyle, and finished in all thecourtly accomplishments, he was caressed by persons of the firstfashion, while he yet moved in the sphere of a private gentleman. 

Mr. Alexander having a strong propensity to poetry, he declinedentering upon any public employment for some years, and dedicated allhis time to the reading of the ancient poets, upon which he formedhis taste, and whose various graces he seems to have understood. KingJames of Scotland, who with but few regal qualities, yet certainly hada propension to literature, and was an encourager of learned men, tookMr. Alexander early into his favour. He accepted the poems our authorpresented him, with the most condescending marks of esteem, and was sowarm 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 Masterof the Requests[2]; but the King's bounty did not stop here: Ourauthor having settled a colony in Nova Scotia in America, at his ownexpence, James made him a grant of it, by his Royal Deed, on the 21stof September, 1621, and intended to have erected the order of Baronet, for encouraging and advancing so good a work; but the three last yearsof that prince's reign being rendered troublesome to him, by reasonof the jealousies and commotions which then subsisted in England, hethought fit to suspend the further prosecution of that affair, 'till amore favourable crisis, which he lived not to see. 

As soon as King Charles I. Ascended the throne, who inherited from hisfather the warmest affection for his native country, he endeavoured topromote that design, which was likely to produce so great a benefitto the nation, and therefore created Sir William Alexander LordLieutenant of New Scotland, and instituted the order of KnightBaronet, for the encouraging, and advancing that colony, and gavehim the power of coining small copper money, a privilege which somediscontented British subjects complained of with great bitterness;but his Majesty, who had the highest opinion of the integrity andabilities of Sir William, did not on that account withdraw his favourfrom him, but rather encreased it; for in the year 1626 he madehim Secretary of State for Scotch affairs, in place of the earl ofHaddington, and a Peer, by the title of Viscount Stirling, and soonafter raised him to the dignity of an Earl, by Letters Patent, datedJune 14, 1633, upon the solemnity of his Majesty's Coronation at thePalace of Holy-rood-house in Edinburgh. His lordship enjoyed the placeof secretary with the most unblemished reputation, for the spaceof fifteen years, even to his death, which happened on the 12th ofFebruary, 1640. 

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

His lordship is author of four plays, which he stiles MonarchicTragedies, viz. The Alexandræan Tragedy, Cræsus, Darius, andJulius 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 Biographerswith many circumstances they could not otherwise have known) werewritten in his lordship's youth, and before he undertook any stateemployment. 

These plays are written upon the model of the ancients, as appearsby his introducing the Chorus between the Acts; they are grave andsententious throughout, like the Tragedies of Seneca, and yet thesofter and tender passions are sometimes very delicately touched. Theauthor has been very unhappy in the choice of his verse, which isalternate, like the quatrains of the French poet Pibrach, or SirWilliam Davenant's heroic poem called Gondibert, which kind of verseis certainly unnatural for Tragedy, as it is so much removed fromprose, and cannot have that beautiful simplicity, that tender pathos, which is indispensable to the language of tragedy; Mr. Rymer hascriticised with great judgment on this error of our author, and shewnthe extreme absurdity of writing plays in rhime, notwithstanding thegreat 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 towarm the heart, rouze the passions, and fire the imagination, whichcan never be done, while the story goes languidly on. The soul cannotbe agitated unless the business of the play rises gradually, thescene be kept busy, and leading characters active: we cannot betterillustrate this observation, than by an example. 

One of the best poets of the present age, the ingenious Mr. Mason ofCambridge, has not long ago published a Tragedy upon the model of theancients, called Elfrida; the merit of this piece, as a poem hasbeen confessed by the general reading it has obtained; it is full ofbeauties; the language is perfectly poetical, the sentiments chaste, and the moral excellent; there is nothing in our tongue can muchexceed it in the flowry enchantments of poetry, or the delicate flowof numbers, but while we admire the poet, we pay no regard to thecharacter; no passion is excited, the heart is never moved, nor is thereader's curiosity ever raised to know the event. Want of passion andregard to character, is the error of our present dramatic poets, and it is a true observation made by a gentleman in an occasionalprologue, speaking of the wits from Charles II. To our own times, hesays, 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 thesuccession, that rose between Alexander's captains after his decease;he has borrowed many thoughts, and translated whole speeches fromSeneca, Virgil, &c. In this play his lordship seems to mistake thevery essence of the drama, which consists in action, for there isscarce one action performed in view of the audience, but severalpersons are introduced upon the stage, who relate atchievements doneby themselves and others: the two first acts are entirely foreign tothe business of the play. Upon the whole it must be allowed that hislordship was a very good historian, for the reader may learn from it agreat deal of the affairs of Greece and Rome; for the plot see QuintusCurtius, 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 isreckoned the most moving of the four; it is chiefly borrowed fromHerodotus, Clio, Justin, Plutarch's Life of Solon, Salian, Torniel. Inthe fifth Act there is an Episode of Abradates and Panthæa, which theauthor has taken from Xenophon's Cyropædeia, or The Life and Educationof Cyrus, lib. Vii. The ingenious Scudery has likewise built upon thisfoundation, 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 firstcomposed of a mixture of English and Scotch dialect, and even then wascommended by several copies of verses. The Scene of this Play islaid in Babylon. The author afterwards not only polished his nativelanguage, 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 bringsBrutus, Cassius, Cicero, Anthony, &c. Together, after the death ofCæsar, almost in the same circumstances Shakespear has done in hisPlay of this name; but the difference between the Anthony and Brutusof Shakespear, and these characters drawn by the earl of Stirling, isas great, as the genius of the former transcended the latter. This isthe most regular of his lordship's plays in the unity of action. Thestory of this Play is to be found in all the Roman Histories writtensince the death of that Emperor. 

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

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

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

A very ingenious gentleman of Oxford, in a conversation with theauthor of this Life, took occasion to mention the above line as thebest he had ever read consisting of monysyllables, and is indeed oneof the most affecting lines to be met with in any poet. This Poem, says Mr. Coxeter, 'in his MS. Notes, was reprinted in 1720, byA. Johnston, who in his preface says, that he had the honour oftransmitting the author's works to the great Mr. Addison, for theperusal of them, and he was pleased to signify his approbationin these candid terms. That he had read them with the greatestsatisfaction, and was pleased to give it as his judgment, that thebeauties of our ancient English poets are too slightly passed over bythe modern writers, who, out of a peculiar singularity, had rathertake pains to find fault, than endeavour to excel. '

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

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

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

My lord seems to have often a peculiar inclination to punning, butthis was the characteristic vice of the times. That he could sometimeswrite in a very elegant strain will appear by the following lines, inwhich 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 inLeicestershire. [1] His father was an officer under Henry Earl ofHuntingdon, president of the North, who from his infancy had devotedhim to the service of the church; and his mother, whom he hascelebrated for her exemplary and distinguished piety, was extremelysollicitous that her favourite son would be of a profession, sheherself held so much in veneration. Our author, who seems to have beenvery credulous in his disposition, rather religious than wise, orpossessing any attainments equal to the dignity to which he rose, haspreserved in his Specialities, some visions of his mother's, which herelates with an air of seriousness, sufficient to evidence his ownconviction of their reality; but as they appear to have been theoffspring of a disordered imagination, they have no right to a placehere. 

In order to train him up to the ministry, his father at first resolvedto place him under the care of one Mr. Pelset, lately come fromCambridge to be the public preacher at Leicester, who undertook togive 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 tosend him to Cambridge, and persuaded him that no private tuition couldpossibly be equal to that of the academical. When our author hadremained six years at Cambridge, he had a right to preferment, and tostand for a fellowship, had not his tutor Mr. Gilby been born in thesame county with him, and the statutes not permitting two of the sameshire to enjoy fellowships, and as Mr. Gilby was senior to ourauthor, and already in possession, Mr. Hall could not be promoted. In consequence of this, he proposed to remove, when the Earl ofHuntingdon, being made acquainted with this circumstance, and hearingvery favourable accounts of our author, interested himself to preventhis removal. He made application to Mr. Gilby, promised to makehim his chaplain, and promote him in the church, provided he wouldrelinquish his place in the college, in favour of Mr. Hall. Thesepromises being made with seeming sincerity, and as the Earl ofHuntingdon was a man of reputation for probity, he complied with hislordship's request, and relinquished his place in the college. Whenhe was about to enter upon his office of chaplain, to his greatmortification, the nobleman on whose promises he confided, and onwhom he immediately depended, suddenly died, by which accident he wasthrown unprovided upon the world. This not a little affected Mr. Hall, who was shocked to think that Mr. Gilby should be thus distressed, bythe generosity of his temper, which excited him to quit a certainty inorder to make way for his promotion. He addressed Dr. Chadderton, then the master of the college, that the succeeding election might bestopped, and that Mr. Gilby should again possess his place; but inthis request he was unsuccessful: for the Doctor told him, that Mr. Gilby was divested of all possibilty of remedy, and that theymust proceed in the election the day following; when Mr. Hall wasunanimously chosen into that society. Two years after this, he waschosen Rhetorician to the public schools, where, as he himselfexpresses it, "he was encouraged with a sufficient frequence ofauditors;" but this place he soon resigned to Dr. Dod, and enteredupon studies necessary to qualify him for taking orders. 

Some time after this, the mastership of a famous school erected atTiverton in Devon, became vacant; this school was endowed by thefounder Mr. Blundel, with a very large pension, and the care of it wasprincipally cast upon the then Lord Chief Justice Popham. His lordshipbeing intimately acquainted with Dr. Chadderton, requested him torecommend some learned and prudent man for the government of thatschool. The Dr. Recommended Mr. Hall, assuring him that greatadvantage would arise from it, without much trouble to himself: Ourauthor thinking proper to accept this, the Doctor carried him toLondon, and introduced him to Lord Chief Justice Popham, who seemedwell pleased and thanked Dr. Chadderton for recommending a man so wellqualified for the charge. When Dr. Chadderton and Mr. Hall hadtaken leave of his lordship and were returning to their lodgings, amessenger presented a letter to Mr. Hall, from lady Drury of Suffolk, earnestly requesting him to accept the rectory of Halsted, a place inher gift. This flow of good fortune not a little surprized him, and ashe was governed by the maxims of prudence, he made no long hesitationin accepting the latter, which was both a better benefice, anda higher preferment. Being settled at Halsted, he found therea dangerous antagonist to his ministry, whom he calls in hisSpecialities, a witty, and a bold Atheist: "This was one Mr. Lilly, who by reason of his travels, (says he) and abilities of discourse andbehaviour, had so deeply insinuated himself into my patron, that therewere small hopes for me to work any good upon that noble patron ofmine; who by the suggestion of this wicked detractor, was set off fromme 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 meansor other, that apparent hindrance of my faithful labours; who gaveme an answer accordingly. For this malicious man going hastily up toLondon, to exasperate my patron against me, was then and thereswept away by the pestilence, and never returned to do any furthermischief. " This account given by Mr. Hall of his antagonist, reflectsno great honour upon himself: it is conceived in a spirit ofbitterness, and there is more of spite against Lilly's person in it, than any tenderness or pity for his errors. He calls him a wittyAtheist, when in all probability, what he terms atheism, was no morethan a freedom of thinking, and facetious conversation, which to thepious churchman, had the appearance of denying the existence of God;besides, had Hall dealt candidly, he should have given his readerssome more particulars of a man whom he was bold enough to denominatean Atheist, a character so very singular, that it should never beimputed to any man, without the strongest grounds. Hall in his usualspirit of enthusiasm, in order to remove this antagonist of his, hasrecourse to a miracle: He tells us, he went up to London and died ofthe Plague, which he would have us to understand was by the immediateinterpolition of God, as if it were not ridiculous to suppose ourauthor of so great importance, as that the Supreme Being should worka miracle in his favour; but as it is with natural so is it withspiritual pride, those who are possessed by either, never fail toover-rate their own significance, and justly expose themselves to thecontempt of the sober part of mankind. 

Our author has also given us some account of his marriage, with thedaughter of Mr. George Winniff, of Bretenham; he says of her, thatmuch modesty, piety, and good disposition were lodged in her seemlypresence. She was recommended to him, by the Rev. Mr. Grandig hisfriend, and he says, he listened to the recommendation, as from theLord, whom he frequently consulted by prayer, before he entered intothe matrimonial state. She lived with him 49 years. 

Not long after Mr. Hall's settlement at Halsted, he was sollicited bySir 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 archdukeAlbert of Brussels. This request Mr. Hall complied with, as itfurnished him with an opportunity of feeing more of the world, andgratified a desire he had of conversing with the Romish Jesuits. The particulars of his journey, which he has preserved in hisSpecialities, are too trifling to be here inserted: When he came toBrussels, he was introduced by an English gentleman, who practicedphysic there, to the acquaintance of father Costrus; who held someconversation with him concerning the miracles said to be latelydone, by one Lipsieus Apricollis, a woman who lived at Zichem. Fromparticular miracles, the father turned the discourse to the differencebetween divine and diabolical miracles; and he told Mr. Hall, that ifhe could ascertain that one miracle ever was wrought in the churchof England, he would embrace that persuasion: To which our authorreplied, that he was fully convinced, that many devils had beenejected out of persons in that church by fasting and prayer. They bothbelieved the possibility and frequency of miracles; they only differedas to the church in which miracles were performed. Hall has censuredfather Costrus, as a barren man, and of superficial conversation; andit is to be feared, that whoever reads Hall's religious works willconclude much in the same manner of him. They departed from Brusselssoon after this interview between father Costrus and our author, andmet with nothing in their journey to and return from the Spa, worthrelation, only Mr. Hall had by his zeal in defending his own church, exposed himself to the resentment of one Signior Ascanio Negro, whobegan notwithstanding Mr. Hall's lay-habit, to suspect him to be aclergyman, and use some indecent freedoms with him in consequence ofthis suspicion. Our author to avoid any impertinence which the captainwas likely to be guilty of towards him, told him, Sir Edmund Bacon, the person with whom he travelled, was the grandchild of the greatlord Verulam, High Chancelor of England, whose fame was extended toevery country where science and philosophy prevailed, and that theywere protected by the earl of Hertford, the English embassador atBrussels. Upon the Italian's being made acquainted with the quality ofSir Edmund, and the high connections of the two travellers, he thoughtproper to desist from any acts of impertinence, to which bigotry andignorance would have excited him. Hall returned to England after beingabsent eighteen months, and was received but coldly by Sir RobertDrury his patron; there having never been much friendship betweenthem. In consequence of this, Mr. Hall came to London, in search of amore 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, andmuch read by that promising young Prince. He preached with success, for the Prince desired to hear him a second time, and was so wellpleased with him, that he signified an inclination of having himattend about his court. Mr. Hall's reputation growing, he was takennotice of by persons of fashion, and soon obtained the living ofWaltham, presented him by the Earl of Norwich. 

While he exercised his function at Waltham, the archdeacon ofNorwich engaged him to interest himself in favour of the church ofWolverhampton, from which a patrimony was detained by a sacrilegiousconveyance. In the course of this prosecution, our author observes, "that a marvellous light opened itself unexpectedly, by revealing acounterfeit 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 infavour of the church. "

During Mr. Hall's residence at Waltham, he was thrice employed by hisMajesty in public service. His first public employment was to attendthe Earl of Carlisle, who went on an embassy to France, and during hisabsence his Majesty conferred upon him the deanery of Worcester. Uponhis return, he attended the King in a journey to Scotland, wherehe exerted himself in support of episcopacy, in opposition to theestablished ministry there, who were Presbyterians. Having acquiredsome name in polemical divinity, and being long accustomed todisputations, the King made choice of him to go to the Netherlands, and assist at the synod of Dort, in settling the controverted pointsof faith, for which that reverend body were there convened. Hall hasbeen very lavish in his own praise, while he acted at the synod ofDort; he has given many hints of the supernatural assistance he wasblessed with: he has informed us, that he was then in a languishingstate of health; that his rest was broken, and his nights sleepless;but on the night preceding the occasion of his preaching a Latinsermon to the synod, he was favoured with, refreshing sleep, which heascribes to the immediate care of providence. The states of Holland, he says, "sent Daniel Heinsius the poet to visit him, and were so muchdelighted with his comportment, that they presented him with arich medal of gold, as a monument of their respect for his poorendeavours. " Upon our author's returning home, he found the churchtorn to pieces, by the fierce contentions which then subsistedconcerning the doctrines of Arminius: he saw this with concern, andwas sensible true religion, piety, and virtue, could never be promotedby such altercation; and therefore with the little power of which hewas master, he endeavoured to effect a reconciliation between thecontending parties: he wrote what he calls a project of pacification, which was presented to his Majesty, and would have had a very happyinfluence, had not the enemies of Mr. Hall misrepresented the book, and so far influenced the King, that a royal edict for a generalinhibition, buried it in silence. Hall after this contended with theRoman Catholics, who upon the prospect of the Spanish match, on thesuccess of which they built their hopes, began to betray a greatdegree of insolence, and proudly boast the pedigree of their church, from the apostles themselves. They insisted, that as their church wasthe first, so it was the best, and that no ordination was valid whichwas not derived from it. Hall in answer to their assertions, made aconcession, which some of his Protestant brethren thought he had noright to do; he acknowledged the priority of the Roman Church, butdenied its infallibility, and consequently that it was possibleanother church might be more pure, and approach more to the apostolicpractice than the Romish. This controversy he managed so successfully, that he was promoted to the see of Exeter; and as King James I. Seldomknew any bounds to his generosity, when he happened to take a personinto his favour, he soon after that removed him from Exeter, and gavehim the higher bishoprick of Norwich; which he enjoyed not withoutsome allay to his happiness, for the civil wars soon breaking out, he underwent the same severities which were exercised against otherprelates, of which he has given an account in a piece prefixed to hisworks, called, Hall's hard Measure; and from this we shall extract themost material circumstances. 

The insolence of some churchmen, and the superiority they assumed inthe civil government, during the distractions of Charles I. Provokedthe House of Commons to take some measures to prevent their growingpower, which that pious monarch was too much disposed to favour. Inconsequence of this, the leading members of the opposition petitionedthe King to remove the bishops from their seats in Parliament, anddegrade them to the station at Commons, which was warmly opposed bythe high church lords, and the bishops themselves, who protestedagainst whatever steps were taken during their restraint fromParliament, as illegal, upon this principle, that as they were part ofthe legislature, no law could pass during their absence, at leastif that absence was produced by violence, which Clarendon has fullyrepresented. 

The prejudice against the episcopal government gaining ground, petitions to remove the bishops were poured in from all parts of thekingdom, and as the earl of Strafford was then so obnoxious to thepopular resentment, his cause and that of the bishops was reckoned bythe vulgar, synonimous, and both felt the resentment of an enragedpopulace. To such a fury were the common people wrought up, that theycame 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 besiegedthe two Houses, and threatened vengeance upon the bishops, wheneverthey came out. This fury excited some motion to be made in the Houseof Peers, to prevent such tumults for the future, which were sent downto the House of Commons. The bishops, for their safety, were obligedto continue in the Parliament House the greatest part of the night, and at last made their escape by bye-ways and stratagems. They werethen convinced that it was no longer safe for them to attend theParliament, 'till some measures were taken to repress the insolenceof the mob, and in consequence of this, they met at the house of thearchbishop of York, and drew up a protest, against whatever stepsshould be taken during their absence, occasioned by violence. Thisprotest, the bishops intended should first be given to the Secretaryof State, and by him to the King, and that his Majesty should cause itto be read in the House of Peers; but in place of this, the bishopswere accused of high treason, brought before the bar of the House ofPeers, and sent to the Tower. During their confinement, their enemiesin the House of Commons, took occasion to bring in a bill for takingaway the votes of bishops in the House of Peers: in this bill lordFalkland concurred, and it was supported by Mr. Hambden and Mr. Pym, the oracles of the House of Commons, but met with great oppositionfrom Edward Hyde, afterwards earl of Clarendon, who was a friend tothe church, and could not bear to see their liberties infringed. 

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

Being now at liberty, the greatest part of them retired to theirdioceses, 'till the storm which had threatened them should subside. Bishop Hall repaired to Norwich, where he met, from the disaffectedparty, a very cold reception; he continued preaching however in hiscathedral at Norwich, 'till the order of sequestration came down, whenhe was desired to remove from his palace, while the sequestratorsseized upon all his estate, both real and personal, and appraized allthe goods which were in the palace. The bishop relates the followinginstance of oppression which was inflicted on him; 'One morning (sayshis lordship) before my servants were up, there came to my gates oneWright, 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 apistol which he had in his hand; I demanded his business at thatunseasonable time; he told me he came to search for arms andammunition, of which I must be disarmed; I told him I had only twomuskets in the house, and no other military provision; he not restingupon my word, searched round about the house, looked into the chestsand trunks, examined the vessels in the cellar; finding no otherwarlike furniture, he asked me what horses I had, for his commissionwas to take them also; I told him how poorly I was stored, and that myage would not allow me to travel on foot; in conclusion, he took onehorse away. '

The committee of sequestration soon after proceeded to strip him ofall the revenue belonging to his see, and as he refused to take thecovenant, the magistrates of the city of Norwich, who were nofriends to episcopal jurisdiction, cited him before them, for givingordination unwarrantably, as they termed it: to this extraordinarysummons the bishop answered, that he would not betray the dignityof his station by his personal appearance, to answer any complaintsbefore the Lord Mayor, for as he was a Peer of the realm, nomagistrate whatever had a right to take cognizance of his conduct, andthat he was only accountable to the House of Lords, of which he wasone. The bishop proceeds to enumerate the various insults he receivedfrom the enraged populace; sometimes they searched his house formalignants, at other times they threatened violence to his person; nordid their resentment terminate here; they exercised their fury inthe cathedral, tore down the altar, broke the organ in pieces, andcommitted a kind of sacrilegious devastation in the church; they burntthe service books in the market-place, filled the cathedral withmusketeers, who behaved in it with as much indecency, as if it hadbeen an alehouse; they forced the bishop out of his palace, andemployed that in the same manner. These are the most materialhardships which, according to the bishop's own account, happened tohim, which he seems to have born with patience and fortitude, and mayserve to shew the violence of party rage, and that religion is oftenmade a pretence for committing the most outrageous insolence, andhorrid cruelty. It has been already observed, that Hall seems to havebeen of an enthusiastic turn of mind, which seldom consists with anybrilliance of genius; and in this case it holds true, for in hissermons extant, there is an imbecility, which can flow from no othercause than want of parts. In poetry however he seems to have greaterpower, which will appear when we consider him in that light. 

It cannot positively be determined on what year bishop Hall died; hepublished that work of his called Hard Measure, in the year 1647, atwhich time he was seventy-three years of age, and in all probabilitydid 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 Pacificationbetween the two Kingdoms, 1641. 

The Mischief of Faction, and the Remedy of it, a Sermon, at Whitehallon 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 orExpedience 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 theSacrament 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 nameof 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 theBishops 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 secularthings. 

The Anthems for the Cathedral of Exeter. 

All these are printed in 4to, and were published 1660. There are alsoother Works of this author. An Edition of the whole has been printedin 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 cannotgive a better account than in the words of the ingenious authors ofthe Monthly Review, by which Bishop Hall's genius for that kind ofpoetical writing will fully appear. 

He published these Satires in the twenty third year of his age, andwas, as he himself asserts in the Prologue, the first satirist in theEnglish 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 assatire into a nation, we must allow it required the assistance of nocommon and ordinary genius. The Italians had their Ariosto, andthe French their Regnier, who might have served him as models forimitation; but he copies after the ancients, and chiefly Juvenal andPersius; though he wants not many strokes of elegance and delicacy, which shew him perfectly acquainted with the manner of Horace. Amongthe several discouragements which attended his attempt in that kind, he mentions one peculiar to the language and nature of the Englishversification, which would appear in the translation of one ofPersius's Satires: The difficulty and dissonance whereof, says he, shall make good my assertion; besides the plain experience thereofin the Satires of Ariosto; save which, and one base French satire, Icould never attain the view of any for my direction. Yet we may payhim almost the same compliment which was given of old to Homer andArchilochus: for the improvements which have been made by succeedingpoets bear no manner of proportion to the distance of time between himand them. The verses of bishop Hall are in general extremely musicaland flowing, and are greatly preferable to Dr. Donne's, as being ofa much smoother cadence; neither shall we find him deficient, ifcompared with his successor, in point of thought and wit; but heexceeds him with respect to his characters, which are more numerous, and wrought up with greater art and strength of colouring. Many of hislines 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 thepublic; which was common in that age to other parts of Europe, but notpractised in England, till he published his own epistles. It may beproper to take notice, that the Virgidemiarum are not printed with hisother writings, and that an account of them is omitted by him, throughhis extreme modesty, in the Specialities of his Life, prefixed to thethird volume of his works in folio. 

The author's postscript to his satires is prefixed by the editor inthe room of a preface, and without any apparent impropriety. It is notwithout some signatures of the bishop's good sense and taste; and, making a just allowance for the use of a few obsolete terms, andthe puerile custom of that age in making affected repetitions andreiterations of the same word within the compass of a period, it wouldread like no bad prose at present. He had undoubtedly an excellentear, and we must conclude he must have succeeded considerably inerotic or pastoral poetry, from the following stanza's, in hisDefiance to Envy, which may be considered as an exordium to hispoetical 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 Toothlesssatires, and the three last Biting satires. He has an animated ideaof good poetry, and a just contempt of poetasters in the differentspecies 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 hewas. His first book, consisting of nine satires, appears in a mannerentirely levelled at low and abject poetasters. Several satires of thesecond book reprehend the contempt of the rich, for men of science andgenius. We shall transcribe the sixth, being short, and void of allobscurity. 

 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 satireagainst 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 thetemperance and simplicity of former ages, with the luxury andeffeminacy of his own tines, which a reflecting reader would be apt tothink no better than the present. We find the good bishop supposes ourancestors 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 toworthless men. The following advice is nobly moral, the subsequentsarcasm 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 wasinvited, as he says, With hollow words, and [2] overly request. 

and whom he disappointed by accepting his invitation at once, and notMaydening 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 plentyof 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. Thefifth represents the sad plight of a courtier, whose Perewinke, ashe terms it, the wind had blown off by unbonnetting in a salute, andexposed his waxen crown or scalp. 'Tis probable this might be aboutthe time of their introduction into dress here. The sixth, which is afragment, contains a hyperbolical relation of a thirsty foul, calledGullion, who drunk Acheron dry in his passage over it, and groundedCharon'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, whohad dined only with duke Humfrey, and who was strangely adorned withexotic 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 andstile of Juvenal, his third of this book being an imitation of thatsatirist's eighth, on Family-madness and Pride of Descent; thebeginning of which is not translated amiss by our author. Theprincipal object of his fourth satire, Gallio, would correspond witha modern Fribble, but that he supposes him capable of hunting andhawking, which are exercises rather too coarse and indelicate forours: this may intimate perhaps, that the reign of the great Elizabethhad 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 hadsome individuals in view; though he has disclaimed such an intentionin his postscript (now the preface) p. 6. Lin. 25, &c. His sixth setsout very much like the first satire of Horace's first book, on theDissatisfaction and Caprice of mankind--Qui fit Mecænas; and, aftera just and lively-description of our different pursuits in life, heconcludes with the following preference of a college one, which, wefind in the Specialities of his life, he was greatly devoted to in hisyouth. The lines, which are far from inelegant, seem indeed to comefrom his heart, and make him appear as an exception to that toogeneral 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 thechurch of Rome. He terms it POMH-PYMH, by which we suppose he intendedto brand Roma, as the Sink of Superstition. He observes, if Juvenal, whom he calls Aquine's carping spright, were now alive, among othersurprising 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 timesfor 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 wantof hospitality, and naturally reminds us of a pleasant epigramof Martial's on the same occasion, where after describing themagnificence of a villa, he concludes however, there is no room eitherto sup or lodge in it. It ends with a transition on the contumely withwhich the parasites are treated at the tables of the great; being apretty close imitation of Juvenal on the same subject. This satire hasalso a few skabbarded initials. 

In his third, titled, [Greek: KOINA PHIAON], where he reprehendsPlato's notion of a political community of all things, are thefollowing 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 humorousironical recantation of his former satires; as the author pretendsthere can be no just one in such perfect times as his own. Thelatter part of it alludes to different passages in Juvenal; and heparticularly reflects on some poetaster he calls Labeo, whom he hadrepeatedly lash'd before; and who was not improbably some cotemporaryscribler. 

Upon the whole, these satires sufficiently evince both the learningand ingenuity of their author. The sense has generally such asufficient pause, and will admit of such a punctuation at the close ofthe second line, and the verse is very often as harmonious too, as ifit was calculated for a modern ear: tho' the great number of obsoletewords retained would incline us to think the editors had not procuredany very extraordinary alteration of the original edition, which wehave never seen. The present one is nearly printed; and, if it shouldoccasion another, we cannot think but a short glossary at the end ofit, or explanations at the bottom of the pages, where the most uncouthand antiquated terms occur, would justly increase the value of it, byadding considerably to the perspicuity of this writer; who, in otherrespects, seems to have been a learned divine, a conscientiouschristian, a lover of peace, and well endued with patience; for theexercise of which virtue, the confusions at the latter end of hislife, about the time of the death of Charles I. Furnished him withfrequent opportunities, the account of his own hard measures beingdated in May 1647. We have met with no other poetical writings ofthe bishop's, except three anthems, composed for the use of hiscathedral-church; and indeed, it seems as if his continual occupationafter his youth, and his troubles in age, were sufficient to suppressany future propensity to satirical poetry: which we may infer from theconclusion 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 hisworks. ]

[Footnote 2: Slight. ]

 * * * * *

RICHARD CRASHAW. 

Son of an eminent divine named William Crashaw, was educated ingrammar learning in Sutton's-Hospital called the Charter-House, nearLondon, and in academical, partly in Pembroke-Hall, of which he was ascholar, and afterwards in Peterhouse, Cambridge, of which he was afellow, where, as in the former house, he was distinguished for hisLatin and English poetry. Afterwards he took the degree of master ofarts; but being soon after thrown out of his fellowship, with manyothers of the University of Cambridge, for denying the Covenant duringthe time of the rebellion, he was for a time obliged to shift forhimself, and struggle against want and oppression. At length beingwearied with persecution and poverty, and foreseeing the calamitywhich threatened and afterwards fell upon his church and country, bythe unbounded fury of the Presbyterians, he changed his religion, and went beyond sea, in order to recommend himself to some Popishpreferment in Paris; but being a mere scholar was incapable ofexecuting his new plan of a livelihood. Mr. Abraham Cowley hearing ofhis being there, endeavoured to find him out, which he did, and to hisgreat surprize saw him in a very miserable plight: this happened inthe year 1646. This generous bard gave him all the assistance hecould, and obtained likewise some relief for him from Henrietta Mariathe Queen Dowager, then residing at Paris. Our author receivingletters of recommendation from his Queen, he took a journey intoItaly, and by virtue of those letters became a secretary to a Cardinalat Rome, and at length one of the canons or chaplains of the richchurch of our lady of Loretto, some miles distant from thence, wherehe died in 1650. 

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

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

 * * * * *

WILLIAM ROWLEY. 

An author who lived in the reign of Charles I. And was some time amember of Pembroke-Hall in Cambridge. There are no particulars onrecord concerning this poet. He was beloved, says Langbaine, byShakespear, Johnson, and Fletcher, and writ with the former theBritish Merlin, besides what he joined in writing with poets of thethird class, as Heywood, Middleton, Day, and Webster. 

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

1. A New Wonder, a Woman never vext, a Comedy, acted Anno 1632. TheWidow'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 theThalia 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-laneby the Lady Elizabeth's Servants, 1633. This is esteemed a tolerablePlay. 

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

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

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

 * * * * *

THOMAS NASH. 

A versifier in the reign of King Charles I. Was educated in theuniversity of Cambridge, and was designed for holy orders. He wasdescended from a family in Hertfordshire, and was born at Leostoffin Suffolk. Whether he obtained any preferment in the church, or washonoured with any great man's patronage, is no where determined. Itis reasonable to believe the contrary, because good fortune is seldomwithout the evidence of flattery, or envy, whereas distress andobscurity, are almost inseparable companions. This is furtherconfirmed in some lines vehemently passionate, in a performance ofhis called Piers Penniless; which to say nothing of the poetry, are astrong picture of rage, and despair, and part of which as theywill shew that he was no mean versifier, shall be quoted by wayof specimen. In the abovementioned piece of Piers Penniless, orSupplication to the Devil, he had some reflections on the parentageof Dr. Harvey, his father being a rope-maker of Saffron-Walden. Thisproduced contests between the Doctor and him, so that it became apaper war. Amongst other books which Mr. Nash wrote against him, wasone entitled, Have with ye, to Saffron Walden; and another called, Four letters confuted. He wrote likewise a poem, called, The WhiteHerring and the Red. He has published two plays, Dido Queen ofCarthage, in which he joined with Marloe: and Summers last Will andTestament, a Comedy. Langbaine says, he could never procure a sight ofeither of these, but as to the play called, See me, and See menot, ascribed to him by Winstanley, he says, it is written by oneDrawbridgecourt Belchier, Esq; Thomas Nash had the reputation of asharp satirist, which talent he exerted with a great deal of acrimonyagainst the Covenanters and Puritans of his time: He likewise wrote apiece called, The Fourfold way to Happiness, in a dialogue between acountryman, citizen, divine, and lawyer, printed in 4to. London, 1633. 

In an old poem called the return to Parnassus; or a scourge forSimony, Nash's character is summed up in four lines, which Mrs. Cooperthinks 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!

 * * * * *

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 ofmost of the poets of his time. He was not only a partner with Rowleyand Decker in the Witch of Edmonton, and with Decker in the Sun'sDarling; but wrote likewise himself seven plays, most of which wereacted at the Phænix in the Black-Fryars, and may be known by anAnagram instead of his name, generally printed in the title-page, viz, FIDE HONOR. 

His genius was more turned for tragedy than comedy, which occasionedan 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 followingaccount of his plays;

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

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

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

4. Lover's Melancholy, a Tragi-Comedy, acted at a Private House inBlack-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 whomwrites 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 severalfancies from other Writers, which he has appositely brought in, asthe 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 theQueen's Servants, at the Phoenix in Drury-Lane; printed 4to. Lond. 1663. There is a copy of verses prefixed to this Play, written byJames Shirley, Esq; a dramatic writer. 

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

7. Sun's Darling, a Moral Mask, often presented by their MajestiesServants at the Cock-pit in Drury-Lane, with great Applause, printedin 4to. London 1657, dedicated to the Right Hon. Thomas Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton. This Play was wrote by our author and JohnDecker, but not published till after their decease. A Copy of Verseswritten by Mr. John Tateham is the Introduction to the Mask, at theEntry whereof the Reader will find an Explanation of the Designalluding 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'sperformances, and were to be commended did not he paint the incestuouslove between Giovanni, and his Sister Annabella, in too beautifulcolours. I have not been able to ascertain the year in which thisauthor died; but imagine from circumstances, that it must have beensome time before the Restoration, and before the Year 1657, for theSun's Darling, written between him and Decker was published in 1657, which Mr. Langbaine says, was after their Decease. 

 * * * * *

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 haveshared, and though he fell much short of the two former, yet beingjoined with them in writing plays, he arrived at some reputation. Hejoined with Fletcher and Johnson in a play called The Widow, and thehighest honour that is known of this poet, is, his being admitted tomake a triumvirate with two such great men: he joined with Massingerand Rowley in writing the Old Law; he was likewise assisted byRowley in writing three plays[1]. We have not been able to find anyparticulars of this man's life, further than his friendship andconnection already mentioned, owing to his obscurity, as he was neverconsidered as a genius, concerning which the world thought themselvesinterested 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, actedby the Children of St. Paul's School, 1602. 

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

4. The Family of Love, a Comedy, acted by the children of hisMajesty'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'sand Black Fryars before their Majesties, with success, 1616. 

7. The Triumphs of Love and Antiquity, a Masque, performed at theConfirmation 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 LadyElizabeth's servants, 1620. 

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

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

11. The Inner Temple Masque, a Masque of Heroes, represented by theGentlemen 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 writingthis play; for the plot see the story of Alsemero, and Beatrice Joannain Reynolds's God's Revenge against Murder. 

13. The Old Law, or a New Way to Please You, a Comedy, acted beforethe King and Queen in Salisbury Court, printed 1656. Massenger andRowley 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 aRomance called Hyppolito and Isabella. 

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

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

18. The Mayor of Queenborough, a Comedy, acted by his Majesty'sservants, 1661. For the plot see the Reign of Vartigas, by Stow andSpeed. 

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 wasever acted. 

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

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

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End of the First VOLUME.