this great poet, while in his earlier days; and he is one instance how
little regard is to be paid to the figure a boy makes at school: Mr.
Dryden was turned of thirty before he introduced any play upon the
stage, and his first, called the Wild Gallants, met with a very
indifferent reception; so that if he had not been impelled by the force
of genius and propension, he had never again attempted the stage:
a circumstance which the lovers of dramatic poetry must ever have
regretted, as they would in this case have been deprived of one of the
greatest ornaments that ever adorned the profession.
The year before he left the university, he wrote a poem on the death of
lord Hastings, a performance, say some of his critics, very unworthy of
himself, and of the astonishing genius he afterwards discovered.
That Mr. Dryden had at this time no fixed principles, either in religion
or politics, is abundantly evident, from his heroic stanzas on Oliver
Cromwel, written after his funeral 1658; and immediately upon the
restoration he published Astræa Redux, a poem on the happy restoration
of Charles the IId; and the same year, his Panegyric to the king on his
coronation: In the former of these pieces, a remarkable distich has
expos'd our poet to the ridicule of the wits.
An horrid stillness first invades the ear,
And in that silence we the tempest hear.
Which it must be owned is downright nonsense, and a contradiction in
terms: Amongst others captain Radcliff has ridiculed this blunder in the
following lines of his News from Hell.
Laureat who was both learn'd and florid,
Was damn'd long since for silence horrid:
Nor had there been such clutter made,
But that his silence did invade.
Invade, and so it might, that's clear;
But what did it invade? An ear!
In 1662 he addressed a poem to the lord chancellor Hyde, presented on
new-year's-day; and the same year published a satire on the Dutch. His
next piece, was his Annus Mirabilis, or the Year of Wonders, 1668, an
historical poem, which celebrated the duke of York's victory over the
Dutch. In the same year Mr. Dryden succeeded Sir William Davenant as
Poet Laureat, and was also made historiographer to his majesty; and that
year published his Essay on Dramatic Poetry, addressed to Charles earl
of Dorset and Middlesex. Mr. Dryden tells his patron, that the writing
this Essay, served as an amusement to him in the country, when he was
driven from town by the violence of the plague, which then raged in
London; and he diverted himself with thinking on the theatres, as lovers
do by ruminating on their absent mistresses: He there justifies the
method of writing plays in verse, but confesses that he has quitted the
practice, because he found it troublesome and slow[2]. In the preface
we are informed that the drift of this discourse was to vindicate the
honour of the English writers from the censure of those who unjustly
prefer the French to them. Langbaine has injuriously treated Mr. Dryden,
on account of his dramatic performances, and charges him as a licentious
plagiary. The truth is, our author as a dramatist is less eminent than
in any other sphere of poetry; but, with all his faults, he is even in
that respect the most eminent of his time.
The critics have remarked, that as to tragedy, he seldom touches the
passions, but deals rather in pompous language, poetical flights, and
descriptions; and too frequently makes his characters speak better than
they have occasion, or ought to do, when their sphere in the drama is
considered: And it is peculiar to Dryden (says Mr. Addison) to make his
personages, as wise, witty, elegant and polite as himself. That he could
not so intimately affect the tender passions, is certain, for we find no
play of his, in which we are much disposed to weep; and we are so often
inchanted with beautiful descriptions, and noble flights of fancy, that
we forget the business of the play, and are only attentive to the poet,
while the characters sleep. Mr. Gildon observes in his laws of poetry,
that when it was recommended to Mr. Dryden to turn his thoughts to a
translation of Euripides, rather than of Homer, he confessed that he had
no relish for that poet, who was a great master of tragic simplicity.
Mr. Gildon, further observes, as a confirmation that Dryden's taste for
tragedy was not of the genuine sort, that he constantly expressed great
contempt for Otway, who is universally allowed to have succeeded very
happily in affecting the tender passions: Yet Mr. Dryden, in his preface
to the translation of M. Du Fresnoy, speaks more favourably of Otway;
and after mentioning these instances, Gildon ascribes this taste in
Dryden, to his having read many French Romances.--The truth is, if a
poet would affect the heart, he must not exceed nature too much, nor
colour too high; distressful circumstances, short speeches, and pathetic
observations never fail to move infinitely beyond the highest rant, or
long declamations in tragedy: The simplicity of the drama was Otway's
peculiar excellence; a living poet observes, that from Otway to our own
times,
From bard to bard, the frigid caution crept,
And declamation roar'd while passion slept.
Mr. Dryden seems to be sensible, that he was not born to write comedy;
for, says he, 'I want that gaiety of humour which is required in it;
my conversation is slow and dull, my humour saturnine and reserved. In
short, I am none of those who endeavour to break jests in company, and
make repartees; so that those who decry my comedies, do me no injury,
except it be in point of profit: Reputation in them is the last thing to
which I shall pretend[3].'
This ingenuous confession of inability, one would imagine were
sufficient to silence the clamour of the critics against Mr. Dryden
in that particular; but, however true it may be, that Dryden did not
succeed to any degree in comedy, I shall endeavour to support my
assertion, that in tragedy, with all his faults, he is still the most
excellent of his time. The end of tragedy is to instruct the mind, as
well as move the passions; and where there are no shining sentiments,
the mind may be affected, but not improved; and however prevalent the
passion of grief may be over the heart of man, it is certain that he may
feel distress in the acutest manner, and not be much the wiser for it.
The tragedies of Otway, Lee and Southern, are irresistibly moving, but
they convey not such grand sentiments, and their language is far from
being so poetical as Dryden's; now, if one dramatic poet writes to
move, and another to enchant and instruct, as instruction is of greater
consequence than being agitated, it follows naturally, that the latter
is the most excellent writer, and possesses the greatest genius.
But perhaps our poet would have wrote better in both kinds of the drama,
had not the necessity of his circumstances obliged him to comply with
the popular taste. He himself, in his dedication to the Spanish Fryar,
insinuates as much. 'I remember, says he, some verses of my own Maximin
and Almanzor, which cry vengeance upon me for their extravagance. All
that I can say for those passages, which are I hope not many, is, that
I knew they were bad when I wrote them. But I repent of them amongst my
sins, and if any of their fellows intrude by chance, into my present
writings, I draw a veil over all these Dalilahs of the theatre, and am
resolved, I will settle myself no reputation upon the applause of fools.
'Tis not that I am mortified to all ambition, but I scorn as much to
take it from half witted judges, as I should to raise an estate by
cheating of bubbles. Neither do I discommend the lofty stile in tragedy,
which is naturally pompous and magnificent; but nothing is truely
sublime that is not just and proper.' He says in another place, 'that
his Spanish Fryar was given to the people, and that he never wrote any
thing in the dramatic way, to please himself, but his All for Love.'
In 1671 Mr. Dryden was publicly ridiculed on the stage, in the duke of
Buckingham's comedy, culled the Rehearsal, under the character of Bays:
This character, we are informed, in the Key to the Rehearsal, was
originally intended for Sir Robert Howard, under the name of Bilboa;
but the representation being put a stop to, by the breaking out of the
plague, in 1665, it was laid by for several years, and not exhibited on
the stage till 1671, in which interval, Mr. Dryden being advanced to the
Laurel, the noble author changed the name of his poet, from Bilboa to
Bays, and made great alterations in his play, in order to ridicule
several dramatic performances, that appeared since the first writing it.
Those of Mr. Dryden, which fell under his grace's lash, were the Wild
Gallant, Tyrannic Love, the Conquest of Granada, Marriage A la-Mode, and
Love in a Nunnery: Whatever was extravagant, or too warmly expressed, or
any way unnatural, the author has ridiculed by parody.
Mr. Dryden affected to despise the satire levelled at him in the
Rehearsal, as appears from his dedication of the translation of Juvenal
and Persius where speaking of the many lampoons, and libels that had,
been written against him, he says, 'I answered not to the Rehearsal,
because I knew the author sat to himself when he drew the picture, and
was the very Bays of his own farce; because also I knew my betters were
more concerned than I was in that satire; and lastly, because Mr. Smith
and Mr. Johnson, the main pillars of it, were two such languishing
gentlemen in their conversation, that I could liken them to nothing but
their own relations, those noble characters of men of wit and pleasure
about town.'
In 1679 came out an Essay on Satire, said to be written jointly by Mr.
Dryden and the earl of Mulgrave; this piece, which was handed about in
manuscript, containing Reflexions on the Duchess of Portsmouth, and the
Earl of Rochester; who suspecting, as Wood says, Mr. Dryden to be the
author, hired three ruffians to cudgel him in Wills's coffee-house at
eight o'clock at night. This short anecdote, I think, cannot be told
without indignation. It proved Rochester was a malicious coward, and,
like other cowards, cruel and insolent; his foul was incapable of any
thing that approached towards generosity, and when his resentment was
heated, he pursued revenge, and retained the most lasting hatred; he had
always entertained a prejudice against Dryden, from no other motive than
envy, Dryden's plays met with success, and this was enough to fire the
resentment of Rochester, who was naturally envious. In order to hurt the
character, and shake the interest of this noble poet, he recommended
Crown, an obscure man, to write a Masque for the court, which was
Dryden's province, as poet-laureat, to perform. Crown in this succeeded,
but soon after, when his play called the Conquest of Jerusalem met with
such extravagant applause, Rochester, jealous of his new favourite, not
only abandoned him, but commenced from that moment his enemy.
The other person against whom this satire was levelled, was not superior
in virtue to the former, and all the nation over, two better subjects
for satire could not have been found, than lord Rochester, and the
duchess of Portsmouth. As for Rochester, he had not genius enough to
enter the lists with Dryden, so he fell upon another method of revenge;
and meanly hired bravoes to assault him.
In 1680 came out a translation of Ovid's Epistles in English verse, by
several hands, two of which were translated by Mr. Dryden, who also
wrote the preface. In the year following our author published Absalom
and Achitophel. It was first printed without his name, and is a severe
satire against the contrivers and abettors of the opposition against
King Charles II. In the same year that Absalom and Achitophel was
published, the Medal, a Satire, was likewise given to the public. This
piece is aimed against sedition, and was occasioned by the striking of a
medal, on account of the indictment against the earl of Shaftsbury for
high treason being found ignoramus by the grand jury, at the Old Bailey,
November 1681: For which the Whig party made great rejoicings by ringing
of bells, bonfires, &c. in all parts of London. The poem is introduced
with a very satirical epistle to the Whigs, in which the author says,
'I have one favour to desire you at parting, that when you think of
answering this poem, you would employ the same pens against it, who have
combated with so much success against Absalom and Achitophel, for then
you may assure yourselves of a clear victory without the least reply.
Rail at me abundantly, and not break a custom to do it with wit. By this
method you will gain a considerable point, which is wholly to wave the
answer of my arguments. If God has not blessed you with the talent of
rhiming, make use of my poor stock and welcome; let your verses run upon
my feet, and for the utmost refuge of notorious blockheads, reduced to
the last extremity of sense, turn my own lines against me, and in utter
despair of my own satire, make me satirize myself.' The whole poem is a
severe invective against the earl of Shaftsbury; who was uncle to that
earl who wrote the Characteristics. Mr. Elkanah Settle wrote an answer
to this poem, entitled the Medal Reversed. However contemptible Settle
was as a poet, yet such was the prevalence of parties at that time,
that, for some years, he was Dryden's rival on the stage. In 1682 came
out his Religio Laici, or a Layman's Faith; this piece is intended as a
defence of revealed religion, and the excellency and authority of the
scriptures, as the only rule of faith and manners, against Deists,
Papists, and Presbyterians. He acquaints us in the preface, that it
was written for an ingenious young gentleman, his friend; upon his
translation of Father Simons's Critical History of the Old Testament,
and that the stile of it was epistolary.
In 1684 he published a translation of M. Maimbourg's. History of the
League, in which he was employed by the command of King Charles II. on
account of the plain parallel between the troubles of France, and those
of Great Britain. Upon the death of Charles II. he wrote his Threnodia
Augustalis, a Poem, sacred to the happy memory of that Prince. Soon
after the accession of James II. our author turned Roman Catholic, and
by this extraordinary step drew upon himself abundance of ridicule from
wits of the opposite faction; and in 1689 he wrote a Defence of the
Papers, written by the late King of blessed memory, found in his
strong box. Mr. Dryden, in the abovementioned piece, takes occasion to
vindicate the authority of the Catholic Church, in decreeing matters of
faith, upon this principle, that the church is more visible than the
scriptures, because the scriptures are seen by the church, and to
abuse the reformation in England, which he affirms was erected on
the foundation of lust, sacrilege, and usurpation. Dr. Stillingfleet
hereupon answered Mr. Dryden, and treated him with some severity.
Another author affirms, that Mr. Dryden's tract is very light, in some
places ridiculous; and observes, that his talent lay towards controversy
no more in prose, than, by the Hind and Panther, it appeared to do in
verse. This poem of the Hind and Panther is a direct defence of the
Romish Church, in a dialogue between a Hind, which represents the Church
of Rome, and a Panther, which supports the character of the Church of
England. The first part of this poem consists most in general characters
and narration, which, says he, 'I have endeavoured to raise, and give it
the majestic turn of heroic poetry. The second being matter of dispute,
and chiefly concerning church authority, I was obliged to make as plain
and perspicuous as possibly I could, yet not wholly neglecting the
numbers, though I had not frequent occasion for the magnificence of
verse. The third, which has more of the nature of domestic conversation,
is, or ought to be, more free and familiar than the two former. There
are in it two episodes or fables, which are interwoven with the main
design, so that they are properly parts of it, though they are also
distinct stories of themselves. In both of these I have made use of the
common places of satire, whether true or false, which are urged by the
members of the one church against the other.'
Mr. Dryden speaks of his own conversion in the following terms;
But, gracious God, how well dost thou provide,
For erring judgments, an unerring guide.
Thy throne is darkness, in th' abyss of light,
A blaze of glory that forbids the sight.
O teach me to believe thee, thus concealed,
And search no further than thyself revealed;
But her alone for my director take,
Whom thou hast promis'd never to forsake!
My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain desires;
My manhood, long misled by wand'ring fires,
Follow'd false lights; and when their glimpse was gone,
My pride struck out new sparkles of her own.
Such was I, such by nature still I am,
Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame,
Good life be now my talk, my doubts are done.[4]
This poem was attacked by Mr. Charles Montague, afterwards Earl of
Hallifax, and Mr. Matthew Prior, who joined in writing the Hind and
Panther, transversed to the Country Mouse, and City Mouse, Lond. 1678,
4to. In the preface to which, the author observes, 'that Mr. Dryden's
poem naturally falls into ridicule, and that in this burlesque, nothing
is represented monstrous and unnatural, that is not equally so in the
original.' They afterwards remark, that they have this comfort under the
severity of Mr. Dryden's satire, to see his abilities equally lessened
with his opinion of them, and that he could not be a fit champion
against the Panther till he had laid aside his judgment.
Mr. Dryden is supposed to have been engaged in translating M. Varillas's
History of Heresies, but to have dropped that design. This we learn from
a passage in Burnet's reflexions on the ninth book of the first volume
of M. Varillas's History, being a reply to his answer.
I shall here give the picture the Dr. has drawn of this noble poet,
which is, like a great many of the doctor's other characters, rather
exhibited to please himself than according to the true resemblance.
The doctor says, 'I have been informed from England, that a gentleman
who is famous both for poetry, and several other things, has spent
three months in translating Mr. Varillas's history; but as soon as my
reflexions appeared, he discontinued his labours, finding the credit of
his author being gone. Now if he thinks it is recovered by his answer,
he will, perhaps, go on with his translation; but this may be, for ought
I know, as good an entertainment for him, as the conversation he has set
on foot between the Hinds and Panthers, and all the rest of the animals;
for whom M. Varillas may serve well enough as an author; and this
history and that poem are such extraordinary things of their kind, that
it will be but suitable to see the author of the worst poem become the
translator of the worst history, that the age has produced. If his grace
and his wit improve so proportionably, we shall hardly find, that he has
gained much by the change he has made, from having no religion, to chuse
one of the worst. It is true he had somewhat to sink from in matter of
wit, but as for his morals, it is scarce possible for him to grow a
worse man than he was. He has lately wreaked his malice on me for
spoiling his three months labour; but in it he has done me all the
honour a man can receive from him, which is to be railed at by him. If I
had ill-nature enough to prompt me to wish a very bad wish for him, it
should be that he would go and finish his translation. By that it will
appear whether the English nation, which is the most competent judge of
this matter, has upon seeing this debate, pronounced in M. Varillas's
favour or me. It is true, Mr. Dryden will suffer a little by it; but at
least it will serve to keep him in from other extravagancies; and if he
gains little honour by this work, yet he cannot lose so much by it, as
he has done by his last employment.'
When the revolution was compleated, Mr. Dryden having turned Papist,
became disqualified for holding his place, and was accordingly
dispossessed of it; and it was conferred on a man to whom he had a
confirmed aversion; in consequence whereof he wrote a satire against
him, called Mac Flecknoe, which is one of the severest and best; written
satires in our language.
Mr. Richard Flecknoe, the new laureat, with whose name it is inscribed,
was a very indifferent poet of those times; or rather as Mr. Dryden
expresses it, and as we have already quoted in Flecknoe's life.
In prose and verse was own'd without dispute,
Thro' all the realms of nonsense absolute.
This poem furnished the hint to Mr. Pope to write his Dunciad; and it
must be owned the latter has been more happy in the execution of his
design, as having more leisure for the performance; but in Dryden's Mac
Flecknoe there are some lines so extremely pungent, that I am not quite
certain if Pope has any where exceeded them.
In the year wherein he was deprived of the laurel, he published the life
of St. Francis Xavier, translated from the French of father Dominic
Bouchours. In 1693 came out a translation of Juvenal and Persius; in
which the first, third, sixth, tenth, and fifteenth satires of Juvenal,
and Persius entire, were done by Mr. Dryden, who prefixed a long and
ingenious discourse, by way of dedication, to the earl of Dorset. In
this address our author takes occasion a while to drop his reflexions
on Juvenal; and to lay before his lordship a plan for an epic poem: he
observes, that his genius never much inclined him to the stage; and that
he wrote for it rather from necessity than inclination. He complains,
that his circumstances are such as not to suffer him to pursue the bent
of his own genius, and then lays down a plan upon which an epic poem
might be written: to which, says he, I am more inclined. Whether the
plan proposed is faulty or no, we are not at present to consider; one
thing is certain, a man of Mr. Dryden's genius would have covered by the
rapidity of the action, the art of the design, and the beauty of the
poetry, whatever might have been defective in the plan, and produced a
work which have been the boast of the nation.
We cannot help regretting on this occasion, that Dryden's fortune was
not easy enough to enable him, with convenience and leisure, to pursue
a work that might have proved an honour to himself, and reflected a
portion thereof on all, who should have appeared his encouragers on this
occasion.
In 1695 Mr. Dryden published a translation in prose of Du Fresnoy's Art
of Painting, with a preface containing a parallel between painting and
poetry. Mr. Pope has addressed a copy of verses to Mr. Jervas in praise
of Dryden's translation. In 1697 his translation of Virgil's works came
out. This translation has passed thro' many editions, and of all the
attempts which have been made to render Virgil into English. The
critics, I think, have allowed that Dryden[5] best succeeded:
notwithstanding as he himself says, when he began it, he was past the
grand climacteric! so little influence it seems, age had over him, that
he retained his judgment and fire in full force to the last. Mr. Pope in
his preface to Homer says, if Dryden had lived to finish what he began
of Homer, he, (Mr. Pope) would not have attempted it after him,
'No more, says he, than I would his Virgil, his version of whom
(notwithstanding some human errors) is the most noble and spirited
translation I know in any language.'
Dr. Trap charges Mr. Dryden with grossly mistaking his author's sense in
many places; with adding or retrenching as his turn is best served with
either; and with being least a translator where he shines most as a
poet; whereas it is a just rule laid down by lord Roscommon, that a
translator in regard to his author should
"Fall as he falls, and as he rises rise"
Mr. Dryden, he tells us, frequently acts the very reverse of this
precept, of which he produces some instances; and remarks in general,
that the first six books of the Æneis, which are the best and most
perfect in the original, are the least so in the translation. Dr. Trap's
remarks may possibly be true; but in this he is an instance how easy it
is to discover faults in other men's works, and how difficult to avoid
them in our own.
Dr. Trap's translation is close, and conveys the author's meaning
literally, so consequently may be fitter for a school-boy, but men of
riper judgment, and superior taste, will hardly approve it; if Dryden's
is the most spirited of any translation, Trap's is the dullest that ever
was written; which proves that none but a good poet is fit to translate
the works of a good poet.