"That Sidney did not keep a decorum, in making every one speak as well

as himself. Spenser's stanza pleased him not, nor his matter; the

meaning of the allegory of the Fairy Queen he delivered in writing

to Sir Walter Raleigh, which was, that by the bleating beast he

understood the Puritans; and by the false Duessa, the Queen of Scots.

Samuel Daniel was a good honest man, had no children, and was no poet,

and that he had wrote the civil wars without having one battle in all

his book. That Drayton's Poly-olbion, if he had performed what he

promised to write, the Deeds of all the Worthies, had been excellent.

That Sylvester's translation of Du Bartas was not well done, and that

he wrote his verses before he understood to confer; and those of

Fairfax were not good. That the translations of Homer and Virgil in

long Alexandrines were but prose. That Sir John Harrington's Ariosto

of all translations was the worst. He said Donne was originally

a poet; his grandfather on the mother's side, was Heywood the

epigramatist. That Donne for not being understood would perish. He

affirmed, that Donne wrote all his best pieces before he was twenty

years of age. He told Donne, that his Anniversary was prophane, and

fall of blasphemies, that if it had been written on the virgin Mary

it had been tolerable. To which Donne answered, that he described the

idea of a woman but not as she was. That Sir Walter Raleigh esteemed

fame more than conscience; the best wits in England were employed in

making his history. Ben himself had written a piece to him on the

Punic war, which he altered and put in his book. He said there was

no such ground for an heroic poem, as King Arthur's fiction, and Sir

Philip Sidney had an intention of turning all his Arcadia to

the stories of King Arthur. He said Owen was a poor pedantic

school-master, sucking his living from the posteriors of little

children, and has nothing good in him, his epigrams being bare

narrations. He loved Fletcher, Beaumont and Chapman. That Sir William

Alexander was not half kind to him, and neglected him because a friend

to Drayton. That Sir R. Ayton loved him dearly; he fought several

times with Marston, and says that Marston wrote his father in Law's

preachings, and his father in law his comedies."

Mr. Drummond has represented the character of our author in a very

disadvantageous, though perhaps not in a very unjust light. "That he

was a great lover and praiser of himself; a contemner and scorner of

others, rather chusing to lose a friend than a jest; jealous of every

word and action of those about him, especially after drink, which was

one of the elements in which he lived; a dissembler of the parts which

reigned in him; a bragger of some good that he wanted: he thought

nothing right, but what either himself or some of his friends had said

or done. He was passionately kind and angry; careless either to

gain or to keep, vindictive, but if he was well answered, greatly

chagrined; interpreting the best sayings and deeds often to the worst.

He was for any religion, being versed in all; his inventions were

smooth and easy, but above all he excelled in translation. In short,

he was in his personal character the very reverse of Shakespear, as

surly, ill-natured, proud and disagreeable, as Shakespear with ten

times his merit was gentle, good-natured, easy and amiable." He had a

very strong memory; for he tells himself in his discoveries that he

could in his youth have repeated all that he had ever written, and so

continued till he was past forty; and even after that he could have

repeated whole books that he had read, and poems of some select

friends, which he thought worth remembring.

Mr. Pope remarks, that when Ben got possesion of the stage, he brought

critical learning into vogue, and that this was not done without

difficulty, which appears from those frequent lessons (and indeed

almost declamations) which he was forced to prefix to his first plays,

and put into the mouths of his actors, the Grex, Chorus, &c. to remove

the prejudices and inform the judgement of his hearers. Till then

the English authors had no thoughts of writing upon the model of the

ancients: their tragedies were only histories in dialogue, and their

comedies followed the thread of any novel, as they found it, no less

implicitly than if it had been true history. Mr. Selden in his preface

to his titles of honour, stiles Johnson, his beloved friend and a

singular poet, and extols his special worth in literature, and his

accurate judgment. Mr. Dryden gives him the title of the greatest man

of the last age, and observes, that if we look upon him, when he was

himself, (for his last plays were but his dotages) he was the most

learned and judicious writer any theatre ever had; that he was a most

severe judge of himself as well as others; that we cannot say he

wanted wit, but rather that he was frugal of it; that in his works

there is little to be retrenched or altered; but that humour was his

chief province.

Ben had certainly no great talent for versification, nor does he seem

to have had an extraordinary ear; his verses are often wanting in

syllables, and sometimes have too many.

I shall quote some lines of his poem to the memory of Shakespear,

before I give a detail of his pieces.

To the memory of my beloved the author Mr. WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR, and

what he hath left us.

To draw no envy (Shakespear) on thy name,

Am I thus ample to thy book and fame:

While I confess thy writings to be such,

As neither man nor muse can praise too much.

'Tis true, and all men's suffrage. But these ways

Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise:

For silliest ignorance, on these may light,

Which when it sounds at best but ecchoes right;

As blind affection, which doth ne'er advance

The truth; but gropes, and urgeth all by chance;

A crafty malice might pretend his praise,

And think to ruin where it seem'd to raise.

These are, as some infamous baud or whore,

Should praise a matron: What could hurt her more?

But thou art proof against them, and indeed,

Above th' ill fortune of them, or the need.

I therefore will begin. Soul of the age!

Th' applause, delight, the wonder of the stage!

My Shakespear rise; I will not lodge thee by,

Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lye,

A little further to make thee a room:

Thou art a monument without a tomb,

And art alive still, while the book doth live,

And we have wits to read, and praise to give.

That I not mix thee so, my brain excuses;

I mean with great but disproportion'd muses:

For if I thought, my judgment were of years,

I should commit thee surely with thy peers,

And tell how far thou did'st our Lily outshine,

Or sporting Kid, or Marlow's mighty line.

He then goes on to challenge all antiquity to match Shakespear; but

the poetry is so miserable, that the reader will think the above

quotation long enough.

Ben has wrote above fifty several pieces which we may rank under the

species of dramatic poetry; of which I shall give an account in order,

beginning with one of his best comedies.

1. [6] Alchymist, a comedy, acted in the year 1610. Mr. Dryden

supposes this play was copied from the comedy of Albumazer, as far

as concerns the Alchymist's character; as appears from his prologue

prefixed to that play, when it was revived in his time.

2. Bartholomew Fair, a comedy, acted at the Hope on the Bankside,

October 31, in 1614, by the lady Elizabeth's servants, and then

dedicated to James I.

3. Cataline's conspiracy, a tragedy, first acted in the year 1611. In

this our author has translated a great part of Salust's history; and

it is when speaking of this play, that Dryden says, he did not borrow

but commit depredations upon the ancients. Tragedy was not this

author's talent; he was totally without tenderness, and was so far

unqualified for tragedy.

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

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

6. Cloridia, or the Rites of Cloris and her Nymphs, personated in a

Masque at court, by the Queen and her Ladies, at Shrove Tide, 1630.

7. Cynthia's Revels, or the Fountain of Self-love, a comical

Satire, first acted in the year 1600, by the then children of Queen

Elizabeth's chapel, with the allowance of the Master of the Revels,

printed in folio, 1640.

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

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

folio, 1640.

10. Entertainment in Private of the King and Queen on May-day in the

morning, at Sir William Cornwallis's house at Highgate, 1604.

11. Entertainment of King James and Queen at Theobald's, when the

house was delivered up, with the possession to the Queen, by the earl

of Salisbury 1607, the Prince of Janvile, brother to the Duke of Guise

being then present.

12. Entertainment in particular of the Queen and Prince, their

Highnesses at Althrope at the Lord Spenser's, 1603, as they came first

into the kingdom.

13. Entertainment of the Two Kings of Great Britain and Denmark, at

Theobald's, July 24th 1606, printed 1640.

14. Every Man in his Humour, a Comedy, acted in the year 1598, by the

then Lord Chamberlain's servants, and dedicated to Mr. Camden. This

play has been often revived since the restoration.

15. Every Man out of his Humour, a comical Satire, first acted 1599,

and dedicated to the Inns of Court. This play was revived 1675, at

which time a new Prologue and Epilogue were spoke by Jo. Haynes,

written by Mr. Duffel.

16. Fortunate Isles, and their Union celebrated, in a Masque, designed

for the Court on Twelfth-Night, 1626.

17. Golden Age Restored, in a Masque, at Court 1615, by the Lords and

Gentlemen, the King's servants.

18. Hymenæi, or the Solemnities of a Masque, and Barriers at a

Marriage, printed 1640. To this Masque are annexed by the author,

Notes on the Margin, for illustration of the ancient Greek and Roman

Customs.

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

20. King's Entertainment at Welbeck in Nottinghamshire, at the House

of the Right Honourable William, Earl of Newcastle, at his going to

Scotland, 1633.

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

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

23. Love's Welcome, the King and Queen's Entertainment at Bolsover, at

the Earl of Newcastle's, 1634.

24. Magnetick Lady, or Humours Reconciled, a Comedy, acted at the

Black Fryars, and printed 1640. This play was smartly and virulently

attacked by Dr. Gill, Master of St. Paul's school, part of which, on

account of the answer which Ben gave to it, we shall take the trouble

to transcribe.

But to advise thee Ben, in this strict age,

A brick-hill's better for thee than a stage;

Thou better know'st a Groundfil for to lay

Than lay a plot, or Groundwork of a play,

And better canst direct to cap a chimney,

Than to converse with Chlio, or Polyhimny.

Fall then to work in thy old age agen,

Take up thy trug and trowel, gentle Ben,

Let plays alone; or if thou need'st will write,

And thrust thy feeble muse into the light;

Let Lowen cease, and Taylor scorn to touch,

The loathed stage, for thou hast made it such.

These lines are without wit, and without poetry; they contain a mean

reflexion on Ben's original employment, of which he had no occasion to

be ashamed; but he was paid in kind, and Ben answers him with equal

virulence, and in truth it cannot be said with more wit or poetry, for

it is difficult to determine which author's verses are most wretched.

Shall the prosperity of a pardon still

Secure thy railing rhymes, infamous Gill,

At libelling? shall no star chamber peers,

Pillory, nor whip, nor want of ears,

All which thou hast incurred deservedly,

Nor degradation from the ministry

To be the Denis of thy father's school,

Keep in thy bawling wit, thou bawling fool.

Thinking to stir me, thou hast lost thy end,

I'll laugh at thee, poor wretched Tyke, go send

Thy boltant muse abroad, and teach it rather

A tune to drown the ballads of thy father.

For thou hast nought to cure his fame,

But tune and noise, and eccho of his shame.

A rogue by statute, censured to be whipt,

Cropt, branded, flit, neck-flockt: go, you are stript.

25. Masque, at the Lord Viscount Hadington's Marriage at Court, on

Shrove Tuesday at night, 1608.

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

Night, 1608.

27. Masque of Owls, at Kenelworth, presented by the Ghost of Captain

Cox, mounted on his Hobby-Horse, 1626.

28. Masque of Queens celebrated from the House of Fame, by the Queen

of Great Britain with her Ladies at Whitehall, 1609.

29. Masque, presented in the house of lord Hay by several noblemen,

1617, for the French ambassador.

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

1621.

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

32. Mortimer's Fall, a Tragedy, or rather a fragment, being just begun

and left imperfect by his death.

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

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

court.

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

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

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

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

the year 1601.

39. Queen's Masques, the first of Blackness, presented 1605; the

second of Beauty, was presented at the same court 1608.

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

41. Sejanus's Fall, a Tragedy, acted in the year 1603. This play has

met with success, and was ushered into the world by nine copies of

verses, one of which was writ by Mr. Chapman. Mr. Gentleman has lately

published a Tragedy under the same title, in which he acknowledges the

parts he took from Johnson.

42.[6] Silent Woman, a Comedy, first acted in the year 1609. This is

reckoned one of Ben's best comedies; Mr. Dryden has done it the honour

to make some criticisms upon it.

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

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

45. Tale of a Tub, a Comedy.

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

1623.

47.[6] Volpone, or the Fox, a Comedy, first acted in the year 1605;

this is one of his acted plays.

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

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

50. New Inn, or the Light Heart, a Comedy, acted 1629. This play did

not succeed to his expectation, and Ben being filled with indignation

at the people's want of taste, wrote an Ode addressed to himself on

that occasion, advising him to quit the stage, which was answered by

Mr. Feltham.

Thus have we given a detail of Ben Johnson's works. He is allowed to

have been a scholar, and to have understood and practised the dramatic

rules; but Dryden proves him to have likewise been an unbounded

plagiary. Humour was his talent; and he had a happy turn for an

epitaph; we cannot better conclude his character as a poet, than in

the nervous lines of the Prologue quoted in the Life of Shakespear.

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

Then Johnson came instructed from the school

To please by method, and invent by rule.

His studious patience, and laborious art

With regular approach assay'd the heart;

Cold approbation gave the ling'ring bays,

For they who durst not censure, scarce could

praise.

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

Edition, 1711.]

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

[Footnote 3: See Shakespear]

[Footnote 4: See Drummond's works.]

[Footnote 5: Wood.]

[Footnote 6: The Alchymist, the Fox, and the Silent Woman, have been

oftner acted than all the rest of Ben Johnson's plays put together;

they have ever been generally deemed good stock-plays, and been

performed to many crowded audiences, in several separate seasons, with

universal applause. Why the Silent Woman met not with success, when

revived last year at Drury Lane Theatre, let the new critics, or the

actors of the New Mode, determine.]

* * * * *

THOMAS CAREW, Esq;

Was descended of a very ancient and reputable family of the Carews in

Devonshire, and was brother to Matthew Carews, a great royalist, in

the time of the rebellion; he had his education in Corpus Christi

College, but he appears not to have been matriculated as a member, or

that he took a scholastic degree[1]; afterwards improving his parts by

travelling, and conversation with ingenious men in the Metropolis, he

acquired some reputation for his wit and poetry. About this time being

taken notice of at court for his ingenuity, he was made Gentleman of

the Privy Chamber, and Sewer in ordinary to King Charles I. who always

esteemed him to the last, one of the most celebrated wits about his

court[2]. He was much esteemed and respected by the poets of his time,

especially by Ben Johnson. Sir John Suckling, who had a great kindness

for him, could not let him pass in his session of poets without this

character,

Tom Carew was next, but he had a fault,

That would not well stand with a Laureat;

His muse was hide-bound, and the issue of's brain

Was seldom brought forth, but with trouble and pain.

The works of our author are,

Poems; first printed in Octavo, and afterwards being revised and

enlarged, there were several editions of them made, the third in 1654,

and the fourth in 1670. The songs in these poems were set to music, or

as Wood expresses it, wedded to the charming notes of Mr. Henry

Lawes, at that time the greatest musical composer in England, who was

Gentleman of the King's Chapel, and one of the private musicians to

his Majesty.

Coelum Britannicum; A Mask at Whitehall in the Banquetting House, on

Shrove Tuesday night February 18, 1633, London 1651. This Masque is

commonly attributed to Sir William Davenant. It was performed by the

King, the duke of Lenox, earls of Devonshire, Holland, Newport &c.

with several other Lords and Noblemen's Sons; he was assisted in the

contrivance by Mr. Inigo Jones, the famous architect. The Masque being

written by the King's express command, our author placed this distich

in the front, when printed;

Non habet ingenium: Cæsar sed jussit: habebo

Cur me posse negem, posse quod ille putat.

The following may serve as a specimen of the celebrated sonnets of

this elegant writer.

BOLDNESS in LOVE.

Mark how the bashful morn in vain

Courts the amorous marigold

With sighing blasts, and weeping rain;

Yet she refuses to unfold.

But when the planet of the day

Approacheth with his powerful ray,

Then she spreads, then she receives

His warmer beams into her virgin leaves.

So shalt thou thrive in love, fond boy;

If thy tears and sighs discover

Thy grief, thou never shalt enjoy

The just reward of a bold lover:

But when with moving accents thou

Shalt constant faith and service vow,

Thy Celia shall receive those charms

With open ears, and with unfolded arms.

Sir William Davenant has given an honourable testimony in favour of

our author, with which I shall conclude his life, after observing that

this elegant author died, much regretted by some of the best wits of

his time, in the year 1639.

Sir William Davenant thus addresses him,

Not that thy verses are so smooth and high

As glory, love, and wine, from wit can raise;

But now the Devil take such destiny!

What should commend them turns to their dispraise.

Thy wit's chief virtue, is become its vice;

For every beauty thou hast rais'd so high,

That now coarse faces carry such a price,

As must undo a lover that would buy.

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

[Footnote 2: Wood's ubi supra.]

* * * * *

Sir HENRY WOTTON.

This great man was born in the year 1568, at Bocton Hall in the

county of Kent, descended of a very ancient family, who distinguished

themselves in the wars between the Scotch and English before the union

of crowns. The father of Sir Henry Wotton, (according to the account

of the learned bishop Walton,) was twice married, and after the

death of his second wife, says the bishop, 'his inclination, though

naturally averse to all contentions, yet necessitated he was to have

several suits of law, which took up much of his time; he was by divers

of his friends perswaded to remarriage, to whom he often answered,

that if he did put on a resolution to marry, he seriously resolved to

avoid three sorts of persons, namely,

Those that had children,

law suits, were of his kindred:

And yet following his own law suit, he met in Westminster Hall with

one Mrs. Morton, the widow of a gentleman of Kent, who was engaged in

several suits in law, and observing her comportment, the time of her

hearing one of her causes before the judges, he could not but at the

same time compassionate her condition, and so affect her person, that

though there were in her a concurrence of all those accidents, against

which he had so seriously resolved, yet his affection grew so strong,

that he then resolved to sollicit her for a wife, and did, and

obtained her.'

By this lady he had our author, who received the rudiments of his

education from his mother, who was it seems a woman of taste, and

capable of inspiring him with a love of polite accomplishments. When

he became fit for an academical education, he was placed in New

College in Oxford, in the beginning of the year 1584, where living in

the condition of a Gentleman Commoner, he contracted an intimacy with

Sir Richard Baker, afterwards an eminent historian. Sir Henry did

not long continue there, but removed to Queen's College, where, says

Walton, he made a great progress in logic and philosophy, and wrote a

Tragedy for the use of that college, called Tarroredo. Walton tells

us, 'that this tragedy was so interwoven with sentences, and for the

exact personating those passions and humours he proposed to represent,

he so performed, that the gravest of the society declared, that he

had in a flight employment, given an early and solid testimony of his

future abilities.'

On the 8th of June, says Wood, 1588, he as a member of Queen's

College, supplicated the venerable congregation of regents, that he

might be admitted to the degree of Bachelor of Arts, which desire was

granted conditionally, that he should determine the Lent following,

but whether he was admitted, or did determine, or took any degree,

does not appear in any of the university registers; though Mr. Walton

says, that about the twentieth year of his age, he proceeded Master of

Arts, and at that time read in Latin three lectures de Ocello. During

the time he was at the university, and gaining much upon mankind by

the reputation of his abilities, his father, for whom he had the

highest veneration, died, and left him a hundred marks a year, to

be paid out of one of his manors of great value. Walton proceeds to

relate a very astonishing circumstance concerning the father of our

author, which as it is of the visionary sort, the reader may credit,

or not, as he pleases; it is however too curious to be here omitted,

especially as the learned prelate Walton already mentioned has told it

with great earnestness, as if he was persuaded of its reality.

In the year 1553, Nicholas Wotton, dean of Canterbury, uncle to our

author's father, being ambassador in France in the reign of queen

Mary, dreamed, that his nephew Thomas Wotton, was disposed to be a

party in a very hazardous project, which if not suddenly prevented,

would issue in the loss of his life, and the ruin of his family; the

dean, who was persuaded of the importance of his own dream, was very

uneasy; but lest he should be thought superstitious, he resolved to

conceal the circumstance, and not to acquaint his nephew, or any body

else with it; but dreaming the same a second time, he determined to

put something in execution in consequence of it; he accordingly wrote

to the Queen to send for his nephew Thomas Wotton out of Kent, and

that the Lords of the Council might examine him about some imaginary

conspiracy, so as to give colour for his being committed to Jail,

declaring that he would acquaint her Majesty with the true reason of

his request, when he should next be so happy to pay his duty to her.

The Queen complied with the dean's desire, who at that time it seems

had great influence with that bigotted Princess. About this time a

marriage was concluded between the Queen of England, and Philip, King

of Spain, which not a little disobliged some of the nobility, who were

jealous left their country by such a match should be subjected to

the dominion of Spain, and their independent rights invaded by that

imperious monarch. These suspicions produced an insurrection, which

was headed by the duke of Suffolk and Sir Thomas Wyat, who both lost

their lives in the attempt to prevent the match by seizing the Queen;

for the design was soon discovered, easily defeated, and those two

persons, with many more, suffered on a scaffold.

Between Sir Thomas Wyat and the Wotton's family, there had been a

long intimacy, and Sir Thomas had really won Mr. Wotton over to his

interest, and had he not been prevented by imprisonment, he afterwards

declared that he would have joined his friend in the insurrection,

and in all probability would have fallen a sacrifice to the Queen's

resentment, and the votaries of the Spanish match.

After Sir Henry quitted the university of Oxford, he travelled into

France, Germany and Italy, where he resided above nine years, and

returned to his own country perfectly accomplished in all the polite

improvements, which men of sense acquire by travelling, and well

acquainted with the temper and genius of the people with whom he had

conversed, and the different policy of their governments. He was soon

taken notice of after his return, and became secretary to the famous

Robert Devereux, earl of Essex, that unfortunate favourite, whose

story is never exhibited on the stage, says Mr. Addison, without

affecting the heart in the most sensible manner. With his lordship he

continued in the character of secretary 'till the earl was apprehended

for his mutinous behaviour towards the Queen, and put upon his trial.

Wotton, who did not think it safe to continue in England after the

fall of his master, retired to Florence, became acquainted with the

Great Duke of Tuscany, and rose so high in his favour, that he was

entrusted by him to carry letters to James VI. King of Scots, under

the name of Octavio Baldi, in order to inform that king of a design

against his life. Walton informs us, that though Queen Elizabeth was

never willing to declare her successor, yet the King of Scots was

generally believed to be the person, on whom the crown of England

would devolve. The Queen declining very fast, both through age and

visible infirmities, "those that were of the Romish persuasion,

in point of religion, knowing that the death of the Queen, and

establishing her succession, was the crisis for destroying or

supporting the Protestant religion in this nation, did therefore

improve all opportunities for preventing a Protestant Prince to

succeed her; and as the pope's excommunication of Queen Elizabeth had

both by the judgment and practice of the jesuited Papists, exposed

her to be warrantably destroyed, so about that time, there were many

endeavours first to excommunicate, and then to shorten the life of

King James VI."

Immediately after Wotton's return from Rome to Florence, which was

about a year before the death of Queen Elizabeth; Ferdinand, the Great

Duke, had intercepted certain letters, which discovered a design

against the life of the King of Scots. The Duke abhorring the scheme

of assassination, and resolving to prevent it, advised with his

secretary Vietta, by what means a caution should be given to the

Scotch Prince. Vietta recommended Wotton as a person of the highest

abilities of any Englishman then at his court: Mr. Wotton was sent for

by his friend Vietta to the Duke, who after many professions of trust

and friendship, acquainted him with the secret, and sent him to

Scotland with letters to the King, and such antidotes against poison,

as till then, the Scots had been strangers to. Mr. Wotton having

departed from the Duke, assumed the name and language of an Italian,

which he spoke so fluently, and with so little mixture of a foreign

dialect, that he could scarcely be distinguished from a native of

Italy; and thinking it best to avoid the line of English intelligence

and danger, posted into Norway, and through that country towards

Scotland, where he found the King at Stirling.

When he arrived there, he used means by one of the gentlemen of his

Majesty's bed-chamber, to procure a speedy and private audience of his

Majesty, declaring that the business which he was to negotiate was of

such consequence, as had excited the Great Duke of Tuscany to enjoin

him suddenly to leave his native country of Italy, to impart it to the

king.

The King being informed of this, after a little wonder, mixed with

jealousy, to hear of an Italian ambassador or messenger, appointed a

private audience that evening. When Mr. Wotton came to the presence

chamber, he was desired to lay aside his long rapier, and being

entered, found the King there; with three or four Scotch lords

standing distant in several corners of the chamber; at the sight of

whom he made a stand, and which the King observing, bid him be bold,

and deliver his message, and he would undertake for the secresy of all

who were present. Upon this he delivered his message and letters to

his Majesty in Italian; which when the King had graciously received,

after a little pause, Mr. Wotton stept up to the table, and whispered

to the King in his own language that he was an Englishman, requesting

a more private conference with his Majesty, and that he might be

concealed during his stay in that nation, which was promised, and

really performed by the King, all the time he remained at the Scotch

court; he then returned to the Duke with a satisfactory account of his

employment.

When King James succeeded to the Throne of England, he found among

others of Queen Elizabeth's officers, Sir Edward Wotton, afterwards

lord Wotton, Comptroller of the Houshold, whom he asked one day,

'whether he knew one Henry Wotton, who had spent much time in foreign

travel?' Sir Edward replied, that he knew him well, and that he was

his brother. The King then asked, where he was, and upon Sir Edward's

answering that he believed he would soon be at Paris, send for him

says his Majesty, and when he comes to England, bid him repair

privately to me. Sir Edward, after a little wonder, asked his Majesty,

whether he knew him? to which the King answered, you must rest

unsatisfied of that 'till you bring the gentleman to me. Not many

months after this discourse, Sir Edward brought his brother to attend

the king, who took him in his arms, and bid him welcome under the mine

of Octavio Baldi, saying, that he was the most honest, and therefore

the best, dissembler he ever met with; and seeing I know, added the

King, you want neither learning, travel, nor experience, and that I

have had so real a testimony of your faithfulness and abilities to

manage an embassage, I have sent for you to declare my purposes,

which is to make use of you in that kind hereafter[1]. But before he

dismissed Octavio Baldi from his present attendance, he restored him

to his old name of Henry Wotton, by Which he then knighted him.

Not long after this, King James having resolved according to his motto

of beati pacifici, to have a friendship with his neighbouring kingdoms

of France and Spain, and also to enter into an alliance with the State

of Venice, and for that purpose to send ambassadors to those several

States, offered to Sir Henry his choice of which ever of these

employments best suited his inclination; who from the consideration

of his own personal estate being small, and the courts of France and

Spain extreamly sumptuous, so as to expose him to expences above his

fortune, made choice of Venice, a place of more retirement, and where

he could execute his embassy, and at the same time indulge himself in

the study of natural philosophy, in that seat of the sciences,

where he was sure to meet with men accomplished in all the polite

improvements, as well as the more solid attainments of philosophy.

Having informed the king that he chose to be sent to Venice, his

Majesty settled a very considerable allowance upon him during his stay

there; he then took his leave, and was accompanied through France to

Venice, says Walton, by gentlemen of the best families and breeding,

that this nation afforded.

When Sir Henry Wotton arrived at Venice, there subsisted between the

Venetians and the Pope a very warm contention, which was prosecuted by

both parties with equal fury. The laity made many complaints against

the two frequent practice of land being left to the church without

a licence from the state, which increased the power of the clergy,

already too great, and rendered their insolence insupportable. In

consequence of this, the state made several injunctions against

lay-persons disposing their lands in that manner. Another cause of

their quarrel was, that the Venetians had sent to Rome, several

articles of complaint against two priests, the abbot of Nervesa, and a

canon of Vicenza, for committing such abominable crimes, as Mr. Walton

says, it would be a shame to mention: Their complaints met with no

redress, and the detestable practices of these monsters in holy orders

still continuing, they seized their persons and committed them to

prison.

The justice or injustice of such power exercised by the Venetians,

produced debates between the Republic and Pope Clement VIII. Clement

soon dying, Pope Paul the first, a man of unbounded insolence, and

elated with his spiritual superiority, let loose all his rage against

the state. He judged all resistance to be a diminution of his power,

and threatened excommunication to the whole State, if a revocation was

not instantly made, which the Venetians rejecting, he proceeded in

menaces, and at last did excommunicate the Duke, the whole Senate, and

all their dominions; then he shut up the churches, charging the

clergy to forbear sacred offices to any of the Venetians, till their

obedience should make them capable of absolution. The contention was

thus fomented, till a report prevailed that the Venetians were turned

Protestants, which was believed by many, as the English embassador was

so often in conference with the Senate, and that they had made all

their proceedings known to the King of England, who would support

them, should the Pope presume to exercise any more oppressions. This

circumstance made it appear plain enough to his Holiness, that

he weakened his power by exceeding it; and being alarmed lest a

revolution should happen, offered the Venetians absolution upon very

easy terms, which the Republic still slighting, did at last obtain it,

by that which was scarce so much as a shew of desiring it. For eight

years after Sir Henry Wotton's going into Italy, he stood very high in

the King's esteem, but at last, lost his favour for some time, by an

accident too singular to be here omitted.

When he first went embassador to Italy, as he passed through Germany

he staid some days at Augsburgh, where having been in his former

travels well known by many of the first reputation in learning,

and passing an evening in merriment, he was desired by Christopher

Hecamore to write a sentence in his Album, and consenting to it, took

occasion from some accidental conversation which happened in the

company, to write a pleasant definition of an embassador in these

words. "Legatus est vir bonus, peregre-missus ad mentiendum Republicæ

causa;" which he chose should have been thus rendered into English: An

Ambassador is an honest Man, sent to lie abroad for the good of his

Country; but the word lie, upon which the conceit turned, was not

so expressed in Latin, as to admit a double meaning, or so fair a

construction as Sir Henry thought, in English. About eight years

after, this Album fell into the hands of Gaspar Scioppius, a restless

zealot, who published books against King James, and upbraided him

for entertaining such scandalous principles, as his embassador had

expressed by that sentence: This aspersion gained ground, and it

became fashionable in Venice to write this definition in several glass

windows. These incidents reaching the ear of King James, he was much

displeased with the behaviour of his embassador on that occasion, and

from an innocent piece of witticism Sir Henry was like to pay very

dear, by losing his master's favour. Upon this our author wrote two

apologies, one to Velserus, which was dispersed in Germany and Italy,

and another to the King; both which were so well written, that his

Majesty upon reading them declared, "that Sir Henry Wotton had

sufficiently commutted for a greater offence."

Upon this reconciliation, Sir Henry became more in favour with his

Majesty than ever; like friends who have been for some time separated,

they meet again with double fervour, and their friendship increases

to a greater warmth. During the twenty years which Sir Henry was

ambassador at Venice, he had the good fortune to be so well respected

by all the Dukes, and the leading men of the Republic, that his

interest every year increased, and they seldom denied him any favour

he asked for his countrymen who came to Venice; which was, as Walton

expresses it, a city of refuge for all Englishmen who were any way

distressed in that Republic. Walton proceeds to relate two particular

instances of the generosity, and tenderness of his disposition, and

the nobleness of his mind, which, as they serve to illustrate his

character, deserve a place here.

There had been many Englishmen brought by commanders of their own

country, to serve the Venetians for pay, against the Turks; and those

English, by irregularities, and imprudence, committed such offences as

brought them into prisons, and exposed them to work in gallies.

Wotton could not be an unconcerned spectator of the miseries of his

countrymen: their offences he knew proceeded rather from wantonness,

and intemperance, than any real principles of dishonour; and therefore

he thought it not beneath him to become a petitioner for their

releasement. He was happy in a successful representation of their

calamities, they were set at liberty, and had an opportunity of

returning to their own country in comfort, in place of languishing

in jails, and being slaves at the Gallies; and by this compassionate

Interposition with the Republick, he had the blessings of many

miserable wretches: the highest pleasure which any human being can

enjoy on this side immortality.

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

instance;

Upon Sir Henry Wotton's coming a second time to Venice, he was

employed as embassador to several of the German princes, and to the

Emperor Ferdinando II. and this embassy to these princes was to

incline them to equitable measures, for the restoration of the Queen

of Bohemia, and her descendants, to their patrimonial inheritance

of the Palatinate. This was by eight months constant endeavours and

attendance upon the Emperor and his court, brought to a probability

of a successful conclusion, by a treaty; but about that time the

Emperor's army fought a battle so fortunately, as put an end to the

expected treaty, and Sir Henry Wotton's hopes, who when he quitted

the Emperor's court, humbly advised him, to use his victory with

moderation, which advice the Emperor was pleased to hear graciously,

being well satisfied with Wotton's behaviour during his residence at

his court. He then told him, that tho' the King his master was looked

upon as an abetter of his enemy, yet he could not help demonstrating

his regard to him, by making him a present of a rich jewel of

diamonds, worth more than ten thousand pounds. This was received with

all possible respect by Sir Henry; but the next morning upon his

departing from Vienna, at his taking leave of the Countess of Sabrina,

an Italian lady, in whose house he resided, he expressed his gratitude

for her civilities by presenting her with the jewel given him by the

Emperor, which being afterwards discovered, was by the Emperor taken

as an affront; but Sir Henry acknowledging his gratitude for the mark

of distinction shewn to him, at the same time declared, he did not

chuse to receive profit from any present, given him by an enemy of his

royal mistress, for so the Queen of Bohemia, the eldest daughter of

the King of England, permitted him to call her.

Upon Sir Henry Wotton's return from his embassy, he signified an

inclinacion to the King to be excused from any further employment in

foreign affairs, to retire from the bustle of life, and spend the

evening of his days in studious ease and tranquility. His Majesty in

consequence of this request, promised him the reversion of an office,

which was the place of Master of the Rolles, if he out-lived Sir

Julius Cæsar, who then possessed it, and was grown so old, that he was

said to be kept alive beyond nature's course, by the prayers of the

many people who daily lived upon his bounty. Here it will not be

improper to observe, that Sir Henry Wotton had, thro' a generosity of

temper, reduced his affairs to such a state, that he could not live

without some profitable employment, as he was indebted to many persons

for money he borrowed to support his dignity in his embassy, the

King's appointment for that purpose being either not regularly paid,

or too inconsiderable for the expence. This rendered it impossible for

him to wait the death of Sir Julius Cæsar; besides that place had been

long sollicited by that worthy gentleman for his son, and it would

have been thought an ill-natured office, to have by any means

prevented it.

It luckily happened at this time, that the Provostship of his

Majesty's college at Eaton became vacant by the death of Mr. Murray,

for which there were many earnest and powerful sollicitations. This

place was admirably suited to the course of life Wotton resolved to

pursue, for the remaining part of his days; he had seen enough of the

world to be sick of it, and being now three-score years of age, he

thought a college was the fittest place to indulge contemplation, and

to rest his body and mind after a long struggle on the theatre of

life. In his suit for this place he was happily successful, and

immediately entered into holy orders, which was necessary, before

he could take possession of his new office. Walton has related the

particular manner of his spending his time, which was divided between

attendance upon public devotion, the more private duties of religion,

and the care which his function demanded from him of the affairs of

the college. In the year 1639 Sir Henry died in Eaton-College, and

was buried in the chapel belonging to it. He directed the following

sentence to be put upon a marble monument to be erected over him.

Hic jacit hujus sententiæ primus author. Disputandi

pruritus ecclesiarum scabies. Nomen alias

quære.

Which may be thus rendered into English;

Here lyeth the first author of this sentence.

The itch of disputation will prove the scab of the

church.

Enquire his name elsewhere.

Sir Henry Wotton has been allowed by all critics to be a man of

real and great genius, an upright statesman, a polite courtier,

compassionate and benevolent to those in distress, charitable to the

poor, and in a word, an honest man and a pious christian. As a poet he

seems to have no considerable genius. His versification is harmonious,

and sometimes has an air of novelty, his turns are elegant, and his

thoughts have both dignity and propriety to recommend them. There is a

little piece amongst his collections called the World, which we shall

quote, before we give an account of his works.

The world's a bubble: and the life of man,

Less than a span.

In his conception wretched: from the womb,

So to the tomb,

Nurst from his cradle, and brought up to years,

With cares and fears.

Who then to frail mortality shall trust,

But lymns in water, or but writes in dust.

Yet whil'st with sorrow here we live opprest,

What life is best?

Courts are but only superficial schools,

To dandle fools:

The rural part is turned into a den

Of savage men:

And where's a city from vice so free,

But may be termed the word of all the three?

Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed,

Or pains his head.

Those that live single take it for a curse,

Or do things worse,

These would have children, those that have them none,

Or wish them gone:

What is it then to have, or have no wife,

But single thraldom, or a double strife?

Our own affections still at home, to please,

Is a disease.

To cross the seas, to any foreign soil

Peril and toil.

Wars with their noise, affright us, when they cease.

We're worse in peace.

What then remains, but that we still should cry

For being born, and being born to die.

He is author of the following works;

Epistola de Casparo Scioppio, Amberg. 1638, 8vo. This Scioppius was a

man of restless spirit, and had a malicious pen; who in books against

King James, took occasion from a sentence written by Sir Henry Wotton,

in a German's Album, (mentioned p. 260.) to upbraid him with what

principles of religion were professed by him, and his embassador

Wotton, then at Venice, where the said sentence was also written in

several glass windows, as hath been already observed.

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

The Elements of Architecture, Lond. 1624, 4to. in two parts,

re-printed in the Reliquæ Wottonianæ, Ann. 1651, 1654, and 1672, 8vo.

translated into Latin, and printed with the great Vitruvius, and an

eulogium on Wotton put before it. Amster. 1649, folio.

Plausus & Vota ad Regem è scotiâ reducem. Lond. 1633, in a large 4to.

or rather in a little folio, reprinted by Dr. John Lamphire, in a

book, entitled by him, Monarchia Britannica, Oxon. 1681, 8vo.

Parallel between Robert Earl of Essex, and George late Duke of

Buckingham, London 1642, in four sheets and a half in 4to.

Difference, and Disparity between the Estates, and Conditions of

George Duke of Buckingham, and Robert Earl of Essex.

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

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

Bembo.

Philosophical Survey of Education, or moral Architecture.

Aphorisms of Education.

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

and Greek writers.

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

Letters to, and Characters of certain Personages.

Various Poems.--All or most of which books, and Treatises are

re-printed in a book, entitled, Reliquæ Wottonianæ already mentioned,

Lond. 1651, 1654, 1672, and 1685, in 8vo. published by Js. Walton, at

the End of Sir Henry Wotton's life.

Letters to the Lord Zouch.

The State of Christendom: or, a more exact and curious Discovery of

many secret Passages, and hidden Mysteries of the Times, Lond. 1657,

folio.

Letters to Sir Edmund Bacon, Lond. 1661, 8vo. There are also several

Letters of his extant, which were addressed to George Duke of

Buckingham, in a Book called Cabala, Mysteries of State, Lond. 1654,

4to.

Journal of his Embassies to Venice, Manuscript, written in the Library

of Edward Lord Conway.

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

[Footnote 1: Walton, ubi supra.]

* * * * *

GERVASE MARKHAM.

A gentleman who lived in the reign of Charles I. for whom he took up

arms in the time of the rebellion, being honoured by his Majesty with

a captain's commission.[1] He was the son of Robert Markham, of Cotham

in the county of Nottingham, Esq; and was famous for his numerous

volumes of husbandry, and horsemanship; besides what he has wrote on

rural recreations and military discipline, he understood both the

practice and theory of war, and was esteemed an excellent linguist,

being master of the French, Italian, and Spanish languages, from all

which he collected observations on husbandry. One piece of dramatic

poetry which he has published, says Mr. Langbaine, will shew, that he

sacrificed to Apollo and the Muses, as well as Mars and Pallas. This

play is extant under the title of Herod and Antipater, a

tragedy, printed 4to, 1622; when or where this play was acted,

Mr. Langbaine cannot determine; for, says he, the imperfection

of my copy hinders my information; for the foundation, it

is built on history: See Josephus. Mr. Langbaine then proceeds to

enumerate his other works, which he says, are famous over all England;

of these he has wrote a discourse of Horsemanship, printed 4to.

without date, and dedicated to Prince Henry, eldest son to King

James I. Cure of all Diseases incident to Horses, 4to. 1610. English

Farrier, 4to. 1649. Masterpiece, 4to. 1662. Faithful Farrier, 8vo.

1667. Perfect Horsemanship, 12mo. 1671. In Husbandry he published

Liebault's le Maison Rustique, or the Country Farm, folio, Lond. 1616.

This Treatise, which was at first translated by Mr. Richard Surfleit,

a Physician, our author enlarged with several additions from the

French books of Serris and Vinet, the Spanish of Albiterio and the

Italian of Grilli and others. The Art of Husbandry, first translated

from the Latin of Cour. Heresbachiso, by Barnaby Googe, he revived and

augmented, 4to. 1631. He wrote besides, Farewell to Husbandry,

4to. 1620. Way to get wealth, wherein is comprised his Country

Contentments, printed 4to. 1668. To this is added, Hunger's

Prevention, or the Art of Fowling, 8vo. His Epitome, 12mo. &c.--In

Military Discipline he has published the Soldier's Accidence and

Grammar, 4to. 1635--Besides these the second book of the first part of

the English Arcadia is said to be wrote by him, in so much that he

may be accounted, says Langbaine, "if not Unus in omnibus, at least

a benefactor to the public, by those works he left behind him, which

without doubt perpetuate his memory." Langbaine is lavish in his

praise, and not altogether undeservedly. To have lived a military

life, which too often engages its professors in a dissipated course of

pleasure, and at the same time, make himself master of such a variety

of knowledge, and yield so much application to study, entitles him

to hold some rank in literature. In poetry he has no name, perhaps

because he did not apply himself to it; so true is the observation

that a great poet is seldom any thing else. Poetry engages all the

powers of the mind, and when we consider how difficult it is to

acquire a name in a profession which demands so many requisites, it

will not appear strange that the sons of Apollo should seldom be

found to yield sufficient attention to any other excellence, so as to

possess it in an equal degree.

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

* * * * *

THOMAS HEYWOOD

Lived in the reign of Queen Elizabeth and King James I. He was an

actor, as appears from the evidence of Mr. Kirkman, and likewise from

a piece written by him called, The Actor's Vindication. Langbaine

calls his plays second rate performances, but the wits of his time

would not permit them to rank so high. He was according to his own

confession, one of the most voluminous writers, that ever attempted

dramatic poetry in any language, and none but the celebrated Spaniard

Lopez de Vega can vie with him. In his preface to one of his plays he

observes, that this Tragi-comedy is one preserved amongst two hundred

and twenty, "in which I have had either an entire hand, or at least a

main finger." Of this prodigious number, Winstanley, Langbaine, and

Jacob agree, that twenty-four only remain; the reason Heywood himself

gives is this; "That many of them by shifting and change of companies

have been negligently lost; others of them are still retained in the

hands of some actors, who think it against their profit to have them

come in print, and a third, that it was never any great ambition in me

to be voluminously read." These seem to be more plausible reasons than

Winstanley gives for their miscarriage; "It is said that he not only

acted himself every day, but also wrote each day a sheet; and that he

might lose no time, many of his plays were composed in the tavern, on

the backside of tavern bills, which may be the occasion that so many

of them are lost." That many of our author's plays might be plann'd,

and perhaps partly composed in a tavern is very probable, but that any

part of them was wrote on a tavern bill, seems incredible, the tavern

bill being seldom brought upon the table till the guests are going to

depart; besides as there is no account of Heywood's being poor, and

when his employment is considered, it is almost impossible he could

have been so; there is no necessity to suppose this very strange

account to be true. A poet not long dead was often obliged to study

in the fields, and write upon scraps of paper, which he occasionally

borrowed; but his case was poverty, and absolute want.[1] Langbaine

observes of our author, that he was a general scholar, and a tolerable

linguist, as his several translations from Lucian, Erasmus, Texert,

Beza, Buchanan, and other Latin and Italian authors sufficiently

manifest. Nay, further, says he, "in several of his plays, he has

borrowed many ornaments from the ancients, as more particularly in his

play called the Ages, he has interspersed several things borrowed from

Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Seneca, Plautus, which extremely set them off."

What opinion the wits of his age had of him, may appear from the

following verses, extracted from of one of the poets of those

times.[2]

The squibbing Middleton, and Heywood sage,

Th' apologetick Atlas of the stage;

Well of the golden age he could entreat,

But little of the metal he could get;

Threescore sweet babes he fashion'd at a lump,

For he was christen'd in Parnassus pump;

The Muses gossip to Aurora's bed,

And ever since that time, his face was red.

We have no account how much our author was distinguished as an actor,

and it may be reasonably conjectured that he did not shine in that

light; if he had, his biographers would scarce have omitted so

singular a circumstance, besides he seems to have addicted himself

too much to poetry, to study the art of playing, which they who are

votaries of the muses, or are favoured by them, seldom think worth

their while, and is indeed beneath their genius.

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

extant:

1. Robert Earl of Huntingdon's downfall, an historical Play, 1601,

acted by the Earl of Nottingham's servants.

2. Robert Earl of Huntingdon's Death; or Robin Hood of Merry Sherwood,

with the tragedy of chaste Matilda, 1601. The plots of these two

plays, are taken from Stow, Speed, and Baker's chronicles in the reign

of King Richard I.

3. The Golden Age, or the Lives of Jupiter and Saturn, an historical

play, acted at the Red Bull, by the Queen's servants, 1611. This play

the author stiles the eldest Brother of three Ages. For the story see

Galtruchius's poetical history, Ross's Mystagogus Poeticus; Hollyoak,

Littleton, and other dictionaries.

4. The Silver Age, 1613; including the Love of Jupiter to Alcmena. The

Birth of Hercules, and the Rape of Proserpine; concluding with the

Arraignment of the Moon. See Plautus. Ovid. Metamorph. Lib. 3.

5. The Brazen Age; an historical play, 1613. This play contains the

Death of Centaure Nessus, the tragedy of Meleager, and of Jason and

Medea, the Death of Hercules, Vulcan's Net, &c. For the story see

Ovid's Metamorph. Lib. 4--7--8--9.

6. The Iron Age; the first part a history containing the Rape of

Helen, the Siege of Troy, the Combat between Hector and Ajax. Hector

and Troilus slain by Achilles, the Death of Ajax, &c. 1632.

7. Iron Age, the second part; a History containing the Death of

Penthesilea, Paris, Priam, and Hecuba: the burning of Troy, the Deaths

of Agamemnon, Menelaus, Clytemnestra, Helena, Orestes, Egistus,

Pylades, King Diomede, Pyrrhus, Cethus, Synon, Thersetus, 1632,

which part is addressed to the author's much respected friend Thomas

Manwaring, Esq; for the plot of both parts, see Homer, Virgil, Dares

Phrygius; for the Episodes, Ovid's Epistles, Metamorph, Lucian's

Dialogues, &c.

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

Servants with applause, 1617.

9. If you know not Me, you know Nobody; or the Troubles of Queen

Elizabeth, in Two parts, 1623. The plot taken from Camden, Speed, and

other English Chronicles in the reign of Queen Elizabeth.

10. The Royal King, and Loyal Subject, a tragi-comedy, 1627, taken

partly from Fletcher's Loyal Subject.

The Fair Maid of the West, or a Girl worth Gold, 1631. This play was

acted before the King and Queen. Our author in his epistle prefixed to

this play, pleads modesty in not exposing his plays to the public view

of the world in numerous sheets, and a large volume under the title of

Works, as others, by which he would seem tacitly to arraign some of

his cotemporaries for ostentation, and want of modesty. Langbaine is

of opinion, that Heywood in this case levelled the accusation at

Ben Johnson, since no other poet, in those days, gave his plays the

pompous title of Works, of which Sir John Suckling has taken notice in

his session, of the poets.

The first that broke silence, was good old Ben,

Prepar'd before with Canary wine;

And he told them plainly, that he deserved the bays,

For his were called works, where others were but plays.

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

Johnson,

Pray tell me, Ben, where does the mystery lurk?

What others call a play, you call a work.

Which was thus answered by a friend of his,

The author's friend, thus for the author says,

Ben's plays are works, when others works are plays.

12. Fair Maid of the West, or a Girl worth Gold, the second part;

acted likewise before the King and Queen with success, dedicated to

Thomas Hammond, of Gray's-Inn, Esq;

13. The Dutchess of Suffolk, an historical play 1631. For the play see

Fox's Martyrology, p. 521.

14. The English Traveller, a tragi-comedy, acted at the Cock-pit in

Drury-lane, 1633, dedicated to Sir Henry Appleton, the plot from

Plautus Mostellaria.

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

16. The Four London Apprentices, with the Conquest of Jerusalem; an

historical play, acted by the Queen's servants 1635. It is founded on

the history of Godfrey of Bulloign. See Tasso, Fuller's history of the

holy war, &c.

17. A Challenge for Beauty; a tragi-comedy, acted by the King's

servants in Black-Fryers, 1636.

18. The Fair Maid of the Exchance; with the Merry Humours of the

Cripple of Fen-church, a comedy, 1637.

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

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

Plot from Titus Livius.

21. Love's Mistress, or the Queen's Mask; presented several times

before their Majesties, 1640. For the plot see Apuleius's Golden Ass.

22. Fortune by Land or Sea, a comedy; acted by the Queen's servants,

1653. Mr. Rowley assisted in the composing of this play.

23. The Lancashire Witches, a comedy; acted at the Globe by the King's

servants. Mr. Brome joined with Mr. Heywood in writing this comedy.

This story is related by the author in his Hierarchy of Angels.

24. Edward IV. an historical play, in two parts. For the story see

Speed, Hollinshed and other chronicles.

This author has published several other works in verse and prose, as

his Hierarchy of Angels, above-mentioned; the Life and Troubles of

Queen Elizabeth; the General History of Women; An Apology for Actors,

&c.

[Footnote 1: See the Life of Savage.]

[Footnote 2: Langbaine, p. 258.]

* * * * *

WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT,

A Gentleman eminent for learning. The place of his birth, and his

father's name, are differently assigned by authors, who have mentioned

him. Mr. Loyd says[1], that he was son of Thomas Cartwright of Burford

in Oxfordshire, and born August 16, in the year 1615; Mr. Wood[2],

that he was the son of William Cartwright, and born at Northway, near

Tewksbury in Gloucestershire in September 1611, that his father had

dissipated a fair inheritance he knew not how, and as his last refuge

turned inn-keeper at Cirencester; when living in competence, he

procured his son, a youth of a promising genius, to be educated under

Mr. William Topp, master of the free school in that town. From thence

he was removed to Westminster school, being chosen a King's scholar,

when compleating his former learning, under the care of Mr. Lambert

Osbaldiston, he was elected a student in Christ Church in Oxford,

in 1628, under the tuition of Mr. Jerumael Terrent[3], having gone

through the classes of logic and philosophy with unwearied diligence,

he took the degrees of Arts, that of Master being compleated in 1605.

Afterwards he entered into holy orders, and gained great reputation,

in the university for his pathetic preaching.

In 1642 he had the place of succentor in the church of Salisbury,

conferred on him by bishop Duppa,[4] and in 1643 was chosen junior

proctor of the university; he was also metaphysical reader, and it was

generally said, that those lectures were never performed better than

by Mr. Cartwright, and his predecessor Mr. Thomas Barlow of Queen's

College, afterwards lord bishop of Lincoln.[5] This ingenious

gentleman died of a malignant fever, called the Camp-disease, which

then reigned in Oxford, and was fatal to many of his contemporaries,

in the 33d year of his age, 1643. His death was very much lamented by

all ranks of men, and the King and Queen, then at Oxford, frequently

enquired after him in the time of his sickness, and expressed great

concern for his death. Mr. Cartwright was as remarkable for the

endowments of his person as of his mind; his body (as Langbaine

expresses it) "being as handsome as his soul. He was, says he, an

expert linguist, understanding not only Greek and Latin, but French

and Italian, as perfectly as his mother tongue; an excellent orator,

and at the same time an admirable poet, a quality which Cicero with

all his pains could never attain." The editor of his works applies

to him the saying of Aristotle concerning Æschron the poet, "that he

could not tell what Æschron could not do," and Dr. Fell, bishop of

Oxford, said of him, "Cartwright was the utmost a man can come to."

Ben Johnson likewise so highly valued him, that he said, "My son

Cartwright writes all like a man." There are extant of this author's,

four plays, besides other poems, all which were printed together in

1651, to which are prefixed above fifty copies of commendatory verses

by the most eminent wits of the university.

Langbaine gives the following account of his plays;

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

2. Lady Errant, a Tragi-Comedy; there is no account when this play was

acted, but it was esteemed a good Comedy.

3, Royal Slave, a Tragi-comedy, presented to the King and Queen, by

the students of Christ Church in Oxford, August 30, 1636; presented

since before both their Majesties at Hampton Court by the King's

servants. As for the noble stile of the play itself, and the ready

address, and graceful carriage of the students (amongst which Dr.

Busby, the famous master of Westminster school; proved himself a

second Roscius) did exceed all things of that nature they had ever

seen. The Queen, in particular, so much admired it, that in November

following, she sent for the habits and scenes to Hampton Court, she

being desirous to see her own servants represent the same play, whose

profession it was, that she might the better judge of the several

performances, and to whom the preference was due: the sentence was

universally given by all the spectators in favour of the gown, though

nothing was wanting on Mr. Cartwright's side to inform the players as

well as the Scholars, in what belonged to the action and delivery of

each part.[6]

4. Siege, or Love's Convert, a Tragi-Comedy, when acted is not known,

but was dedicated by the author to King Charles I. by an epistle in

verse.

Amongst his poems, there are several concerning the dramatic poets,

and their writings, which must not be forgot; as these two copies

which he wrote on Mr. Thomas Killegrew's plays, the Prisoner, and

Claracilla; two copies on Fletcher, and one in memory of Ben Johnson,

which are so excellent, that the publisher of Mr. Cartwright's poems

speaks of them with rapture in the preface, viz. 'what had Ben said

had he read his own Eternity, in that lasting elegy given him by our

author.' Mr. Wood mentions some other works of Cartwright's; 1st.

Poemata Graeca et Latina. 2d. An Offspring of Mercy issuing out of the

Womb of Cruelty; a Passion Sermon preached at Christ Church in Oxford,

on Acts ii. 23. London, 8vo. 1652. 3d. On the Signal Days of the Month

of November, in relation to the Crown and Royal Family; a Poem, London

1671, in a sheet, 4to. 4th. Poems and Verses, containing Airs for

several Voices, set by Mr. Henry Lawes.

From a Comedy of Mr. Cartwright's called the Ordinary, I shall quote

the following Congratulatory Song on a Marriage, which is amorous, and

spirited.

I.

While early light springs from the skies,

A fairer from your bride doth rise;

A brighter day doth thence appear,

And make a second morning there.

Her blush doth shed

All o'er the bed

Clear shame-faced beams

That spread in streams,

And purple round the modest air.

II.

I will not tell what shrieks and cries,

What angry pishes, and what fies,

What pretty oaths, then newly born,

The list'ning bridegroom heard there sworn:

While froward she

Most peevishly

Did yielding fight,

To keep o'er night,

What she'd have proffer'd you e're morn.

III.

For, we know, maids do refute

To grant what they do come to lose.

Intend a conquest, you that wed;

They would be chastly ravished;

Not any kiss

From Mrs. Pris,

'If that you do

Persuade and woo:

No, pleasure's by extorting fed.

IV.

O may her arms wax black and blue

Only by hard encircling you:

May she round about you twine

Like the easy twisting vine;

And while you sip

From her full lip

Pleasures as new

As morning dew,

Like those soft tyes, your hearts combine.

[Footnote 1: Memoirs, p. 422.]

[Footnote 2: Atheniæ Oxon. p. 274.]

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

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

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

[Footnote 6: Wood.]

* * * * *

GEORGE SANDYS,

A younger son of Edwin, Archbishop of York, was born at Bishops Thorp

in that county, and as a member of St. Mary's Hall, was matriculated

in the university in the beginning of December 1589; how long he

remained at the university Wood is not able to determine. In the year

1610 he began a long journey, and after he had travelled through

several parts of Europe, he visited many cities, especially

Constantinople, and countries under the Turkish empire, as Greece,

Egypt, and the Holy Land[1]. Afterwards he took a view of the remote

parts of Italy, and the Islands adjoining: Then he went to Rome; the

antiquities of that place were shewn him by Nicholas Fitzherbert,

once an Oxford student, and who had the honour of Mr. Sandys's

acquaintance. Thence our author went to Venice, and from that returned

to England, where digesting his notes, he published his travels.

Sandys, who appears to have been a man of excellent parts, of a pious

and generous disposition, did not, like too many travellers, turn his

attention upon the modes of dress, and the fashions of the several

courts which is but a poor acquisition; but he studied the genius, the

tempers, the religion, and the governing principles of the people he

visited, as much as his time amongst them would permit. He returned

in 1612, being improved, says Wood, 'in several respects, by this his

'large journey, being an accomplished gentleman, as being master of

several languages, of affluent and ready discourse, and excellent

comportment.' He had also a poetical fancy, and a zealous inclination

to all literature, which made his company acceptable to the most

virtuous men, and scholars of his time. He also wrote a Paraphrase on

the Psalms of David, and upon the Hymns dispersed throughout the Old

and New Testament, London, 1636, reprinted there in folio 1638, with

other things under this title.

Paraphrase on the Divine Poems, on Job, Psalms of David, Ecclesiastes,

Lamentations of Jeremiah, and Songs collected out of the Old and New

Testament. This Paraphrase on David's Psalms was one of the books that

Charles I. delighted so much to read in: as he did in Herbert's Divine

Poems, Dr. Hammond's Works, and Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, while

he was a prisoner in the Isle of Wight[2].

Paraphrase on the Divine Poems, viz. on the Psalms of David, on

Ecclesiastes, and on the Song of Solomon, London, 1637. Some, if not

all of the Psalms of David, had vocal compositions set to them by

William and Henry Lawes, with a thorough bass, for an Organ, in four

large books or volumes in 4to. Our author also translated into English

Ovid's Metamorphoses, London, 1627. Virgil's first book of Æneis

printed with the former. Mr. Dryden in his preface to some of his

translations of Ovid's Metamorphoses, calls him the best versifier of

the last age.

Christ's Passion, written in Latin by the famous Hugo Grotius, and

translated by our author, to which he also added notes; this subject

had been handled handled before in Greek, by that venerable person,

Apollinarius of Laodicea, bishop of Hierapolis, but this of Grotius,

in Sandys's opinion, transcends all on this argument; this piece was

reprinted with figures in 8vo. London, 1688. Concerning our author

but few incidents are known, he is celebrated by cotemporary and

subsequent wits, as a very considerable poet, and all have agreed to

bestow upon him the character of a pious worthy man. He died in the

year 1643, at the house of his nephew Mr. Wiat at Boxley Abbey in

Kent, in the chancel of which parish church he is buried, though

without a monument, only as Wood says with the following, which stands

in the common register belonging to this church.

Georgius Sandys, Poetarum Anglorum sui sæculi Princeps, sepultus suit

Martii 7° stilo Anglico. Anno Pom. 1643. It would be injurious to the

memory of Sandys, to dismiss his life without informing the reader

that the worthy author stood high in the opinion of that most

accomplished young nobleman the lord viscount Falkland, by whom to

be praised, is the highest compliment that can be paid to merit; his

lordship addresses a copy of verses to Grotius, occasioned by his

Christus Patiens, in which he introduces Mr. Sandys, and says of him,

that he had seen as much as Grotius had read; he bestows upon him like

wife the epithet of a fine gentleman, and observes, that though he had

travelled to foreign countries to read life, and acquire knowledge,

yet he was worthy, like another Livy, of having men of eminence from

every country come to visit him. From the quotation here given, it

will be seen that Sandys was a smooth versifier, and Dryden in his

preface to his translation of Virgil, positively says, that had Mr.

Sandys gone before him in the whole translation, he would by no means

have attempted it after him.

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

JESUS speaks.

Daughters of Solyma, no more

My wrongs thus passionately deplore.

These tears for future sorrows keep,

Wives for yourselves, and children weep;

That horrid day will shortly come,

When you shall bless the barren womb,

And breast that never infant fed;

Then shall you with the mountain's head

Would from this trembling basis slide,

And all in tombs of ruin hide.

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

And now the work is ended which Jove's rage,

Nor fire, nor sword, shall raise, nor eating age.

Come when it will, my death's uncertain hour,

Which only o'er my body bath a power:

Yet shall my better part transcend the sky,

And my immortal name shall never die:

For wheresoe'er the Roman Eagles spread

Their conqu'ring wings, I shall of all be read.

And if we Prophets can presages give,

I in my fame eternally shall live.

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

[Footnote 2: Wood, ubi supra.]

* * * * *

CARY LUCIUS, Lord Viscount FALKLAND,

The son of Henry, lord viscount Falkland, was born at Burford in

Oxfordshire, about the year 1610[1]. For some years he received

his education in Ireland, where his father carried him when he was

appointed Lord Deputy of that kingdom in 1622; he had his academical

learning in Trinity College in Dublin, and in St. John's College,

Cambridge. Clarendon relates, "that before he came to be twenty years

of age, he was master of a noble fortune, which descended to him by

the gift of a grandfather, without passing through his father or

mother, who were both alive; shortly after that, and before he was of

age, being in his inclination a great lover of the military life, he

went into the low countries in order to procure a command, and to give

himself up to it, but was diverted from it by the compleat inactivity

of that summer." He returned to England, and applied himself to a

severe course of study; first to polite literature and poetry, in

which he made several successful attempts. In a very short time he

became perfectly master of the Greek tongue; accurately read all the

Greek historians, and before he was twenty three years of age, he had

perused all the Greek and Latin Fathers.

About the time of his father's death, in 1633, he was made one of the

Gentlemen of his Majesty's Privy Chamber, notwithstanding which he

frequently retired to Oxford, to enjoy the conversation of learned and

ingenious men. In 1639 he was engaged in an expedition against the

Scots, and though he received some disappointment in a command of a

troop of horse, of which he had a promise, he went a volunteer with

the earl of Essex[2].

In 1640 he was chosen a Member of the House of Commons, for Newport in

the Isle of Wight, in the Parliament which began at Westminster the

13th of April in the same year, and from the debates, says Clarendon,

which were managed with all imaginable gravity and sobriety, 'he

contracted such a reverence for Parliaments, that he thought

it absolutely impossible they ever could produce mischief or

inconvenience to the nation, or that the kingdom could be tolerably

happy in the intermission of them, and from the unhappy, and

unseasonable dissolution of the Parliament he harboured some prejudice

to the court.'

In 1641, John, lord Finch, Keeper of the Great Seal, was impeached by

lord Falkland, in the name of the House of Commons, and his lordship,

says Clarendon, 'managed that prosecution with great vigour and

sharpness, as also against the earl of Strafford, contrary to his

natural gentleness of temper, but in both these cases he was misled by

the authority of those whom he believed understood the laws perfectly,

of which he himself was utterly ignorant[3].'

He had contracted an aversion towards Archbishop Laud, and some other

bishops, which inclined him to concur in the first bill to take away

the votes of the bishops in the House of Lords. The reason of his

prejudice against Laud was, the extraordinary passion and impatience

of contradiction discoverable in that proud prelate; who could not

command his temper, even at the Council Table when his Majesty was

present, but seemed to lord it over all the rest, not by the force of

argument, but an assumed superiority to which he had no right. This

nettled lord Falkland, and made him exert his spirit to humble and

oppose the supercilious churchman. This conduct of his lordship's,

gave Mr. Hampden occasion to court him to his party, who was justly

placed by the brilliance of his powers, at the head of the opposition;

but after a longer study of the laws of the realm, and conversation

with the celebrated Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, he changed his

opinion, and espoused an interest quite opposite to Hampden's.

After much importunity, he at last accepted the Seals of his Majesty,

and served in that employment with unshaken integrity, being above

corruption of any kind.

When he was vested with that high dignity, two parts of his conduct

were very remarkable; he could never persuade himself that it was

lawful to employ spies, or give any countenance or entertainment to

such persons, who by a communication of guilt, or dissimulation of

manners, wind themselves into such trusts and secrets, as enable them

to make discoveries; neither could he ever suffer himself to open

letters, upon a suspicion that they might contain matters of dangerous

consequence, and proper for statesmen to know. As to the first he

condemned them as void of all honour, and who ought justly to be

abandoned to infamy, and that no single preservation could be worth so

general a wound and corruption of society, as encouraging such people

would carry with it. The last, he thought such a violation of the law

of nature, that no qualification by office could justify him in the

trespass, and tho' the necessity of the times made it clear, that

those advantages were not to be declined, and were necessary to be

practised, yet he found means to put it off from himself[4].

June 15, 1642, he was one of the lords who signed the declaration,

wherein they professed they were fully satisfied his Majesty had

no intention to raise war upon his Parliament. At the same time he

subscribed to levy twenty horse for his Majesty's service, upon which

he was excepted from the Parliament's favour, in the instructions

given by the two Houses to their general the Earl of Essex. He

attended the King to Edgehill fight, where after the enemy was routed

he was exposed to imminent danger, by endeavouring to save those who

had thrown away their arms. He was also with his Majesty at Oxford,

and during his residence there, the King went one day to see the

public library, where he was shewed, among other books, a Virgil nobly

printed, and exquisitely bound. The Lord Falkland, to divert the King,

would have him make a trial of his fortune by the Sortes Virgilianæ,

an usual kind of divination in ages past, made by opening a Virgil.

Whereupon the King opening the book, the period which happened to come

up, was that part of Dido's imprecation against Æneas, Æneid. lib.

4. v. 615, part of which is thus translated by Mr. Dryden,

Oppess'd with numbers in th' unequal field.

His men discouraged and himself expell'd,

Let him for succour sue from place to place,

Torn from his subjects, and his sons embrace.

His Majesty seemed much concerned at this accident. Lord Falkland who

observed it, would likewise try his own fortune in the same manner,

hoping he might fall upon some passage that had no relation to his

case, and thereby divert the king's thoughts from any impression the

other might make upon him; but the place Lord Falkland opened was more

suited to his destiny than the other had been to the King's, being the

following expressions of Evander, on the untimely death of his son

Pallas. Æneid. b. ii. verse 152, &c.

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

Thus translated by Mr. Dryden:

O Pallas! thou hast failed thy plighted word,

To fight with caution, not to tempt the sword;

I warn'd thee, but in vain; for well I knew,

What perils youthful ardour would pursue:

That boiling blood would carry thee too far;

Young as thou wert to dangers, raw to war!

O curst essay of arms, disastrous doom

Prelude of bloody fields, and fights to come[5].

Upon the beginning of the civil war, his natural chearfulness and

vivacity was clouded, and a kind of sadness and dejection of spirit

stole upon him. After the resolution of the two houses not to admit

any treaty of peace, those indispositions which had before touched

him, grew into a habit of gloominess; and he who had been easy and

affable to all men, became on a sudden less communicable, sad, and

extremely affected with the spleen. In his dress, to which he had

formerly paid an attention, beyond what might have been expected from

a man of so great abilities, and so much business, he became negligent

and slovenly, and in his reception of suitors, so quick, sharp, and

severe, that he was looked upon as proud and imperious.

When there was any hope of peace, his former spirit used to return and

he appeared gay, and vigorous, and exceeding sollicitous to press any

thing that might promote it; and Clarendon observes, "That after a

deep silence, when he was sitting amongst his friends, he would with a

shrill voice, and sad accent, repeat the words Peace! Peace! and would

passionately say, that the agony of the war, the ruin and bloodshed in

which he saw the nation involved, took his sleep from him, and would

soon break his heart."

This extream uneasiness seems to have hurried him on to his

destruction; for the morning before the battle of Newbery, he called

for a clean shirt, and being asked the reason of it, answered, "That

if he were slain in the battle, they should not find his body in foul

linen." Being persuaded by his friends not to go into the fight, as

being no military officer, "He said he was weary of the times, foresaw

much misery to his country, and did believe he should be out of it

e're night." Putting himself therefore into the first rank of the Lord

Byron's regiment, he was shot with a musket in the lower part of his

belly, on the 20th of September 1643, and in the instant falling from

his horse, his body was not found till next morning.

Thus died in the bed of honour, the incomparable Lord Falkland, on

whom all his contemporaries bestowed the most lavish encomiums, and

very deservedly raised altars of praise to his memory. Among all his

panegyrists, Clarendon is the foremost, and of highest authority; and

in his words therefore, I shall give his character to the reader. "In

this unhappy battle, (says he) was slain the Lord viscount Falkland,

a person of such prodigious parts, of learning and knowledge, of that

inimitable sweetness and delight in conversation, and so flowing and

obliging a humanity and goodness to mankind, and of that primitive

simplicity and integrity of life, that if there were no other brand

upon this odious and accursed civil war, than that single loss, it

must be most infamous and execrable to all posterity. He was a great

cherisher of wit and fancy, and good parts in any man; and if he found

them clouded with poverty and want, a most liberal and bountiful

patron towards them, even above his fortune." His lordship then

enumerates the unshaken loyalty and great abilities of this young

hero, in the warmth of a friend; he shews him in the most engaging

light, and of all characters which in the course of this work we met

with, except Sir Philip Sidney's, lord Falkland's seems to be the most

amiable, and his virtues are confessed by his enemies of the opposite

faction. The noble historian, in his usual masterly manner, thus

concludes his panegyric on his deceased friend. "He fell in the 34th

year of his age, having so much dispatched the true business of life,

that the eldest rarely attain to that immense knowledge, and the

youngest enter into the world with more innocency: whosoever leads

such a life, needs be less anxious upon how short warning it is

taken from him."----As to his person, he was little, and of no great

strength; his hair was blackish, and somewhat flaggy, and his eyes

black and lively. His body was buried in the church of Great Tew. His

works are chiefly these:

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

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

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

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

4. A Discourse of the Infallibility of the Church of Rome. Oxford

1645, 410. George Holland, a Cambridge scholar, and afterwards a

Romish priest, having written an answer to this discourse of the

Infallibility, the Lord Falkland made a reply to it, entitled,

5. A View of some Exceptions made against the Discourse of the

Infallibility of the Church of Rome, printed at Oxford, 1646, 410.

He assisted Mr. Chillingworth in his book of the Religion of the

Protestants, &c. This particular we learn from Bishop Barlow in his

Genuine Remains, who says, that when Mr. Chillingworth undertook

the defence of Dr. Pottus's book against the Jesuit, he was almost

continually at Tew with my Lord, examining the reasons of both

parties pro and con; and their invalidity and consequence; where Mr.

Chillingworth had the benefit of my Lord's company, and of his good

library.

We shall present our readers with a specimen of his lordship's poetry,

in a copy of verses addressed to Grotius on his Christus Patiens, a

tragedy, translated by Mr. Sandys. To the AUTHOR.

Our age's wonder, by thy birth, the fame,

Of Belgia, by thy banishment, the shame;

Who to more knowledge younger didst arrive

Than forward Glaucias, yet art still alive,

Whose matters oft (for suddenly you grew,

To equal and pass those, and need no new)

To see how soon, how far thy wit could reach,

Sat down to wonder, when they came to teach.

Oft then would Scaliger contented be

To leave to mend all times, to polish thee.

And of that pains, effect did higher boast,

Than had he gain'd all that his fathers lost.

When thy Capella read----------------------

That King of critics stood amaz'd to see

A work so like his own set forth by thee.

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

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

[Footnote 3: Ibid.]

[Footnote 4: Clarendon, ubi supra.]

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

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

* * * * *

Sir JOHN SUCKLING

Lived in the reign of King Charles I. and was son of Sir John

Suckling, comptroller of the houshold to that monarch. He was born

at Witham, in the county of Middlesex, 1613, with a remarkable

circumstance of his mother's going eleven months with him, which

naturalists look upon as portending a hardy and vigorous constitution.

A strange circumstance is related of him, in his early years, in a

life prefixed to his works. He spoke Latin, says the author, at five

years old, and wrote it at nine; if either of these circumstances is

true, it would seem as if he had learned Latin from his nurse, nor

ever heard any other language, so that it was native to him; but to

speak Latin at five, in consequence of study, is almost impossible.

The polite arts, which our author chiefly admired, were music and

poetry; how far he excelled in the former, cannot be known, nor can

we agree with his life-writer already mentioned, that he excelled in

both. Sir John Suckling seems to have been no poet, nor to have had

even the most distant appearances of it; his lines are generally so

unmusical, that none can read them without grating their ears; being

author of several plays, he may indeed be called a dramatist, and

consequently comes within our design; but as he is destitute of

poetical conceptions, as well as the power of numbers, he has no

pretensions to rank among the good poets.

Dryden somewhere calls him a sprightly wit, a courtly writer. In

this sense he is what Mr. Dryden stiles him; but then he is no poet,

notwithstanding. His letters, which are published along with his

plays, are exceeding courtly, his stile easy and genteel, and his

thoughts natural; and in reading his letters, one would wonder that

the same man, who could write so elegantly in prose, should not better

succeed in verse.

After Suckling had made himself acquainted with the constitution of

his own country, and taken a survey of the most remarkable things at

home, he travelled to digest and enlarge his notions, from a view of

other countries, where, says the above-mentioned author, he made a

collection of their virtues, without any tincture of their vices and

follies, only that some were of opinion he copied the French air too

much, which being disagreeable to his father, who was remarkable for

his gravity, and, indeed, inconsistent with, the gloominess of the

times, he was reproached for it, and it was imputed to him as the

effects of his travels; but some were of opinion, that it was more

natural than acquired, the easiness of his manner and address being

suitable to the openness of his heart, the gaiety, wit and gallantry,

which were so conspicuous in him; and he seems to have valued himself

upon nothing more than the character of the Courtier and the Fine

Gentleman, which he so far attained, that he is allowed to have had

the peculiar happiness, of making every thing he did become him.

While Suckling was thus assiduous about acquiring the reputation of

a finished courtier, and a man of fashion, it is no wonder that he

neglected the higher excellencies of genius, for a poet and a beau,

never yet were united in one person.

Sir John was not however, so much devoted to the luxury of the court,

as to be wholly a stranger to the field. In his travels he made a

campaign under the great Gustavus Adolphus, where he was present

at three battles and five sieges, besides other skirmishes between

Parties; and from such a considerable scene of action, gained as much

experience in six months, as otherwise he would have done in as many

years.

After his return to England, the Civil War being then raging, he

raised a troop of horse for the King's service, entirely at his own

charge, so richly and compleatly mounted, that it stood him in 1200

l. but his zeal for his Majesty did not meet with the success it

deserved, which very much affected him; and soon after this he was

seized with a fever, and died in the 28th year of his age. In which

short space he had done enough to procure him the esteem of the

politest men who conversed with him; but as he had set out in the

world with all the advantages of birth, person, education, and

fortune, peoples expectations of him were raised to too great a

heighth, which seldom fails to issue in a disappointment. He makes no

figure in the history of these times, perhaps from the immaturity of

his death, which prevented him from action. This might be one reason

for his being neglected in the annals of the civil war: another might

be, his unnecessary, or rather ridiculous shew of finery, which he

affected in decorating his troop of horse. This could not fail to draw

down contempt upon him, for in time of public distress, nothing can be

more foolish than to wear the livery of prosperity; and surely an army

would have no great reason to put much confidence in the conduct or

courage of that general; who in the morning of a Battle should

be found in his tent perfuming his hair, or arraying himself in

embroidery.

The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland (1753) Volume I. · 第 5 / 6 章