a good person, though his voice was weak; he never met with the least
repulse from the audience in any of his performances: He therefore
resolved to continue on the stage till something better should offer,
but his resolution was soon broke by an accident. Being to play the part
of Guyomar in Dryden's Indian Emperor, who kills Vasquez, one of the
Spanish generals; and forgetting to exchange his sword for a foil, in
the engagement he wounded his brother tragedian, who acted Vasquez, very
dangerously; and though it proved not mortal, yet it so shocked the
natural tenderness of Mr. Farquhar's temper, that it put a period to his
acting ever after.
Soon after this, Mr. Wilks received from Mr. Rich a proposal of four
pounds a week, if he would return to London (such was the extent of the
salaries of the best players in that time, which, in our days, is not
equal to that of a second rate performer) which he thought proper to
accept of; and Mr. Farquhar, who now had no inducement to remain at
Dublin, accompanied Mr. Wilks to London, in the year 1696. Mr. Wilks,
who was well acquainted with the humour and abilities of our author,
ceased not his solicitation 'till he prevailed upon him to write a play,
assuring him, that he was considered by all who knew him in a much
brighter light than he had as yet shewn himself, and that he was fitter
to exhibit entertaining compositions for the stage, than to echo those
of other poets upon it.
But he received still higher encouragement by the patronage of the earl
of Orrery, who was a discerner of merit, and saw, that as yet, Mr.
Farquhar's went unrewarded. His lordship conferred a lieutenant's
commission upon him in his own regiment then in Ireland, which he
held several years[2] and, as an officer, he behaved himself without
reproach, and gave several instances both of courage and conduct:
Whether he received his commission before or after he obliged the town
with his first comedy, we cannot be certain.
In the year 1698, his first Comedy called Love and a Bottle appeared
on the stage, and for its sprightly dialogue, and busy scenes was well
received by the audience, though Wilks had no part in it. In 1699
the celebrated Mrs. Anne Oldfield was, partly upon his judgment, and
recommendation, admitted on the Theatre.
Now we have mentioned Mrs. Oldfield, we shall present the reader with
the following anecdote concerning that celebrated actress, which
discovers the true manner of her coming on the stage; the account we
have from a person who belonged to Mr. Rich, in a letter he wrote to the
editor of Mrs. Oldfield's Life, in which it is printed in these words;
SIR,
In your Memoirs of Mrs. Oldfield, it may
not be amiss to insert the following facts, on the
truth of which you may depend. Her father,
captain Oldfield, not only run out all the military,
but the paternal bounds of his fortune, having
a pretty estate in houses in Pall-mall. It was
wholly owing to captain Farquhar, that Mrs.
Oldfield became an actress, from the following
incident; dining one day at her aunt's, who kept
the Mitre Tavern in St. James's Market, he
heard miss Nanny reading a play behind the bar,
with so proper an emphasis, and so agreeable
turns suitable to each character, that he swore
the girl was cut out for the stage, for which she
had before always expressed an inclination, being
very desirous to try her fortune that way.
Her mother, the next time she saw captain Vanburgh,
who had a great respect for the family,
told him what was captain Farquhar's opinion;
upon which he desired to know whether in the
plays she read, her fancy was most pleased with
tragedy or comedy; miss being called in, said
comedy, she having at that time gone through all
Beaumont and Fletcher's comedies, and the play
she was reading when captain Farquhar dined
there, was the Scornful Lady. Captain Vanburgh,
shortly after, recommended her to Mr.
Christopher Rich, who took her into the house
at the allowance of fifteen shillings a week. However,
her agreeable figure, and sweetness of voice,
soon gave her the preference, in the opinion of the
whole town, to all our young actresses, and his grace
the late duke of Bedford, being pleased to speak,
to Mr. Rich in her favour, he instantly raised her
allowance to twenty shillings a week; her fame
and salary at last rose to her just merit,
Your humble servant,
Nov. 25, 1730[3].
CHARLES TAYLOUR.'
In the beginning of the year 1700, Farquhar brought his Constant Couple,
or Trip to the Jubilee, upon the stage, it being then the jubilee year
at Rome; but our author drew so gay, and airy a figure in Sir Harry
Wildair, so suited to Mr. Wilks's talents, and so animated by his
gesture, and vivacity of spirit, that it is not determined whether the
poet or the player received most reputation by it. Towards the latter
end of this year we meet with Mr. Farquhar in Holland, probably upon
his military duty, from whence he has given a description in two of his
letters dated that year from Brill, and from Leyden, no less true than
humorous, as well of those places as the people; and in a third, dated
from the Hague he very facetiously relates how merry he was there, at
a treat made by the earl of Westmoreland, while, not only himself, but
king William, and other of his subjects were detained there by a violent
storm, which he has no less humorously described, and has, among his
poems, written also an ingenious copy of verses to his mistress on the
same subject. Whether this mistress was the same person he calls his
charming Penelope, in several of his love letters addressed to her, we
know not, but we have been informed by an old officer in the army, who
well knew Mr. Farquhar, that by that name we are to understand Mrs.
Oldfield, and that the person meant by Mrs. V---- in one of them, said
to be her bedfellow, was Mrs. Verbruggen the actress, the same who was
some years before Mrs. Mountfort, whom Mrs. Oldfield succeeded,
(when Mrs. V---- died some years after in child-bed) with singular
commendation, in her principal parts; and from so bright a flame it was
no wonder that Farquhar was more than ordinarily heated. The author of
Mrs. Oldfield's life says, that she has often heard her mention some
agreeable hours she spent with captain Farquhar: As she was a lady of
true delicacy, nor meanly prostituted herself to every adorer, it
would be highly ungenerous to suppose, that their hours ever passed in
criminal freedoms. And 'tis well known, whatever were her failings, she
wronged no man's wife; nor had an husband to injure.
Mr. Farquhar, encouraged by the success of his last piece, made a
continuation of it in 1701, and brought on his Sir Harry Wildair; in
which Mrs. Oldfield received as much reputation, and was as greatly
admired in her part, as Wilks was in his.
In the next year he published his Miscellanies, or Collection of Poems,
Letters, and Essays, already mentioned, and which contain a variety of
humorous, and pleasant sallies of fancy: There is amongst them a copy of
verses addressed to his dear Penelope, upon her wearing her Masque the
evening before, which was a female fashion in those days, as well at
public walks, as among the spectators at the Playhouse. These verses
naturally display his temper and talents, and will afford a very clear
idea of them; and therefore we shall here insert them.
'The arguments you made use of last night for keeping on your masque, I
endeavoured to defeat with reason, but that proving ineffectual, I'll
try the force of rhyme, and send you the heads of our chat, in a
poetical dialogue between You and I.'
You.
Thus images are veil'd which you adore;
Your ignorance does raise your zeal the more.
I.
All image worship for false zeal is held;
False idols ought indeed to be conceal'd.
You.
Thus oracles of old were still receiv'd;
The more ambiguous, still the more believ'd.
I.
But oracles of old were seldom true,
The devil was in them, sure he's not in you.
You.
Thus mask'd in mysteries does the godhead stand:
The more obscure, the greater his command.
I.
The Godhead's hidden power would soon be past,
Did we not hope to see his face at last.
You.
You are my slave already sir, you know,
To Shew more charms, would but increase your
woe,
I scorn an insult to a conquer'd foe.
I.
I am your slave, 'tis true, but still you see,
All slaves by nature struggle to be free;
But if you would secure the stubborn prize,
Add to your wit, the setters of your eyes;
Then pleas'd with thraldom, would I kiss my
chain
And ne'er think more of liberty again.[4]
It is said, some of the letters of which we have been speaking, were
published from the copies returned him at his request, by Mrs. Oldfield,
and that she delighted to read them many years after they were printed,
as she also did the judicious essay at the end of them, which is called
a Discourse upon Comedy, in Reference to the English Stage; but what
gives a yet more natural and lively representation of our author still,
is one among those letters, which he calls the Picture, containing a
description and character of himself, which we should not now omit
transcribing, if his works were not in every body's hands.
In 1703 came out another Comedy, entitled the Inconstant, or the Way to
Win Him, which had sufficient merit to have procured equal success to
the rest; but for the inundation of Italian, French, and other farcical
interruptions, which, through the interest of some, and the depraved
taste of others, broke in upon the stage like a torrent, and swept down
before thorn all taste for competitions of a more intrinsic excellence.
These foreign monsters obtained partisans amongst our own countrymen, in
opposition to English humour, genuine wit, and the sublime efforts of
genius, and substituted in their room the airy entertainments of dancing
and singing, which conveyed no instruction, awakened no generous
passion, nor filled the breast with any thing great or manly. Such was
the prevalence of these airy nothings, that our author's comedy was
neglected for them, and the tragedy of Phædra slid Hippolitus, which for
poetry is equal to any in our tongue, (and though Mr. Addison wrote
the prologue, and Prior the epilogue) was suffered to languish, while
multitudes flocked to hear the warblings of foreign eunuchs, whose
highest excellence, as Young expresses it, was,
'Nonsense well tun'd with sweet stupidity.'
Very early in the year 1704, a farce: called the Stage Coach, in the
composition whereof he was jointly concerned with another, made its
first appearance in print, and it has always given satisfaction.
Mr. Farquhar had now been about a twelve-month married, and it was at
first reported, to a great fortune; which indeed he expected, but was
miserably disappointed. The lady had fallen in love with him, and so
violent was her passion, that she resolved to have him at any rate; and
as she knew Farquhar was too much dissipated in life to fall in love, or
to think of matrimony unless advantage was annexed to it, she fell upon
the stratagem of giving herself out for a great fortune, and then took
an opportunity of letting our poet know that she was in love with him.
Vanity and interest both uniting to persuade Farquhar to marry, he did
not long delay it, and, to his immortal honour let it be spoken, though
he found himself deceived, his circumstances embarrassed, and his family
growing upon him, he never once upbraided her for the cheat, but behaved
to her with, all the delicacy, and tenderness of an indulgent husband.
His next comedy named the Twin-Rivals, was played in 1705.
Our poet was possessed of his commission in the army when the Spanish
expedition was made under the conduct of the earl of Peterborough, tho'
it seems he did not keep it long after, and tho' he was not embarked in
that service, or present at the defeat of the French forces, and
the conquest of Barcelona; yet from some military friends in that
engagement, he received such distinct relations of it in their
epistolary correspondency, that he wrote a poem upon the subject, in
which he has made the earl his hero. Two or three years after it was
written, the impression of it was dedicated by the author's widow to the
same nobleman, in which are some fulsome strains of panegyric, which
perhaps her necessity excited her to use, from a view of enhancing her
interest by flattery, which if excusable at all, is certainly so in a
woman left destitute with a family, as she was.
In 1706 a comedy called the Recruiting Officer was acted at the
theatre-royal. He dedicates to all friends round the Wrekin, a noted
hill near Shrewsbury, where he had been to recruit for his company; and
where, from his observations on country-life, the manner that serjeants
inveigle clowns to enlist, and the behaviour of the officers towards the
milk-maids and country-wenches, whom they seldom fail of debauching, he
collected matter sufficient to build a comedy upon, and in which he
was successful: Even now that comedy fails not to bring full houses,
especially when the parts of Captain Plume, Captain Brazen, Sylvia, and
Serjeant Kite are properly disposed of.
His last play was the Beaux--Stratagem, of which he did not live to
enjoy the full success.
Of this pleasing author's untimely end, we can give but a melancholy
account.
He was oppressed with some debts which obliged him to make application
to a certain noble courtier, who had given him formerly many professions
of friendship. He could not bear the thought that his wife and family
would want, and in this perplexity was ready to embrace any expedient
for their relief. His pretended patron persuaded him to convert his
commission into the money he wanted, and pledged his honour, that in a
very short time he would provide him another. This circumstance appeared
favourable, and the easy bard accordingly sold his commission; but when
he renewed his application to the nobleman, and represented his needy
situation, the latter had forgot his promise, or rather, perhaps, had
never resolved to fulfil it.
This distracting disappointment so preyed upon the mind of Mr. Farquhar,
who saw nothing but beggary and want before him, that by a sure, tho'
not sudden declension of nature, it carried him off this worldly
theatre, while his last play was acting in the height of success at that
of Drury-lane; and tho' the audience bestowed the loudest applauses upon
the performance, yet they could scarce forbear mingling tears with their
mirth for the approaching loss of its author, which happened in the
latter end of April 1707, before he was thirty years of age.
Thus having attended our entertaining dramatist o'er the contracted
stage of his short life, thro' the various characters he performed in
it, of the player, the lover, and the husband, the soldier, the critic,
and the poet, to his final catastrophe, it is here time to close the
scene. However, we shall take the liberty to subjoin a short character
of his works, and some farther observations on his genius.
It would be injurious to the memory of Wilks not to take notice here, of
his generous behaviour towards the two daughters of his deceased friend.
He proposed to his brother managers, (who readily came into it) to give
each of them a benefit, to apprentice them to mantua-makers; which is an
instance amongst many others that might be produced, of the great worth
of that excellent comedian.
The general character which has been given of Mr. Farquhar's comedies
is, 'That the success of the most of them far exceeded the author's
expectations; that he was particularly happy in the choice of his
subjects, which he took care to adorn with a variety of characters
and incidents; his style is pure and unaffected, his wit natural and
flowing, and his plots generally well contrived. He lashed the vices of
the age, tho' with a merciful hand; for his muse was good-natured, not
abounding over-much with gall, tho' he has been blamed for it by the
critics: It has been objected to him, that he was too hasty in his
productions; but by such only who are admirers of stiff and elaborate
performances, since with a person of a sprightly fancy, those things are
often best, that are struck off in a heat[5]. It is thought that in all
his heroes, he generally sketched out his own character, of a young,
gay, rakish spark, blessed with parts and abilities. His works are
loose, tho' not so grossly libertine, as some other wits of his time,
and leave not so pernicious impressions on the imagination as other
figures of the like kind more strongly stampt by indelicate and heavier
hands.'
He seems to have been a man of a genius rather sprightly than great,
rather flow'ry than solid; his comedies are diverting, because his
characters are natural, and such as we frequently meet with; but he has
used no art in drawing them, nor does there appear any force of thinking
in his performances, or any deep penetration into nature; but rather a
superficial view, pleasant enough to the eye, though capable of leaving
no great impression on the mind. He drew his observations chiefly
from those he conversed with, and has seldom given any additional
heightening, or indelible marks to his characters; which was the
peculiar excellence of Shakespear, Johnson, and Congreve.
Had he lived to have gained a more general knowledge of life, or had his
circumstances not been straitened, and so prevented his mingling with
persons of rank, we might have seen his plays embellished with more
finished characters, and with a more polished dialogue.
He had certainly a lively imagination, but then it was capable of no
great compass; he had wit, but it was of no peculiar a sort, as not
to gain ground upon consideration; and it is certainly true, that his
comedies in general owe their success full as much to the player, as to
any thing intrinsically excellent in themselves.
If he was not a man of the highest genius, he seems to have had
excellent moral qualities, of which his behaviour to his wife and
tenderness to his children are proofs, and deserved a better fate than
to die oppressed with want, and under the calamitous apprehensions of
leaving his family destitute: While Farquhar will ever be remembered
with pleasure by people of taste, the name of the courtier who thus
inhumanly ruined him, will be for ever dedicated to infamy.
[Footnote 1: Memoirs of Wilks by Obrian, 8vo. 1732.]
[Footnote 2: Memoirs of Mr. Farquhar, before his Works.]
[Footnote 3: For the moral character of Mrs. Oldfield, see the Life of
Savage.]
[Footnote 4: Farquhar's Letters.]
[Footnote 5: Memoirs, ubi. supra.]
* * * * *
EDWARD RAVENSCROFT.
This gentleman is author of eleven plays, which gives him a kind of
right to be named in this collection. Some have been of opinion, he was
a poet of a low rate, others that he was only a wit collector; be this
as it may, he acquired, some distinction by the vigorous opposition he
made to Dryden: And having chosen so powerful an antagonist, he has
acquired more honour by it, than by all his other works put together; he
accuses Dryden of plagiary, and treats him severely.
Mr. Dryden, indeed, had first attacked his Mamamouchi; which provoked
Ravenscroft to retort so harshly upon him; but in the opinion of Mr.
Langbain, the charge of plagiarism as properly belonged to Ravenfcroft
himself as to Dryden; tho' there was this essential difference between
the plagiary of one and that of the other; that Dryden turned whatever
he borrowed into gold, and Ravenscroft made use of other people's
materials, without placing them in a new light, or giving them any
graces, they had not before.
Ravenscroft thus proceeds against Mr. Dryden: 'That I may maintain
the character of impartial, to which I pretend, I must pull off his
disguise, and discover the politic plagiary that lurks under it. I know
he has endeavoured to shew himself matter of the art of swift writing,
and would persuade the world that what he writes is extempore wit,
currente calamo. But I doubt not to shew that tho' he would be thought
to imitate the silk worm that spins its webb from its own bowels, yet I
shall make him appear like the leech that lives upon the blood of men,
drawn from the gums, and when he is rubbed with salt, spues it up again.
To prove this, I shall only give an account of his plays, and by that
little of my own knowledge, that I shall discover, it will be manifest,
that this rickety poet, (tho' of so many years) cannot go without others
assistance; for take this prophecy from your humble servant, or Mr.
Ravenscroft's Mamamouchi, which you please,
'When once our poet's translating vein is past,
From him, you can't expect new plays in haste.
Thus far Mr. Ravenscroft has censured Dryden; and Langbain, in order to
prove him guilty of the same poetical depredation, has been industrious
to trace the plots of his plays, and the similarity of his characters
with those of other dramatic poets; but as we should reckon it tedious
to follow him in this manner, we shall only in general take notice of
those novels from which he has drawn his plots.
We cannot ascertain the year in which this man died; he had been bred
a templer, which he forsook as a dry unentertaining study, and much
beneath the genius of a poet.
His dramatic works are,
1. The Careless Lovers, a Comedy, acted at the duke's theatre, 4to.
1673. The scene Covent-Garden, part of this play is borrowed from
Moliere's Monsieur de Pourceaugnac.
2. Mamamouchi; or the Citizen turned Gentleman, a Comedy, acted at the
duke's theatre, 4to. 1675, dedicated to his Highness prince Rupert. Part
of this play is taken from Moliere's le Bourgeois Gentilliome. Scene
London.
3. Scaramouch a Philosopher, Harlequin a schoolboy, Bravo Merchant and
Magician; a Comedy, after the Italian manner, acted at the theatre-royal
1677. The poet in his preface to this play boasts his having brought a
new sort of Comedy on our stage; but his critics will not allow any one
scene of it to be the genuine offspring of his own brain, and denominate
him rather the midwife than the parent of this piece; part of it is
taken from le Burgeois Gentilhome, & la Marriage Forcè.
4. The Wrangling Lovers; or the Invisible Mistress, a Comedy, acted at
the duke's theatre, 4to. 1677. This play is founded upon Corneille's Les
Engagements du Hazard, and a Spanish Romance, called, Deceptio visus; or
seeing and believing are two things.
5. King Edgar, and Alfreda, a Tragedy, acted at the theatre-royal 1677.
The story is taken from the Annals of Love, a novel, and Malmesbury,
Grafton, Stow, Speed, and other English chronicles.
6. The English Lawyer, a Comedy; acted at the theatre-royal 1678; this
is only a translation of the celebrated latin comedy of Ignoramus,
written by Mr. Ruggle of Clare-hall, Cambridge. Scene Bourdeaux.
7. The London Cuckolds, a Comedy; acted at the duke of York's theatre.
This play is collected from the novels of various authors, and is
esteemed one of the most diverting, though perhaps the most offensive
play of the author's; it was first acted 1682. This play has hitherto
kept possession of the flags, a circumstance owing to the annual
celebration of the lord mayor's inauguration: Though it seems to be
growing into a just disesteem. It was deprived of its annual appearance
at Drury-Lane Theatre, in the year 1752, by Mr. Garrick; whose good
sense would not suffer him to continue so unwarrantable and ridiculous
an insult, upon so respectable a body of men as the magistrates of the
city of London.
The citizens are exposed to the highest ridicule in it; and the scenes
are loose and indecent. The reason why the comic poets have so often
declared themselves open enemies to the citizens, was plainly this: The
city magistrates had always opposed the court, on which the poets had
their dependance, and therefore took this method of revenge.
8. Dame Dobson, or the Cunning Woman, a Comedy; acted and damn'd at the
duke's theatre, printed in quarto, 1684. This is a translation of a
French comedy.
9. The Canterbury Guests, or a Bargain Broken, a Comedy; acted at the
theatre-royal, in 1695.
10. The Anatomist, or the Sham Doctor, a Comedy; acted at the
theatre-royal in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, 1697.
11. The Italian Husband, a Tragedy; acted at the theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields 1698. To this play, besides the prologue, is
prefixed a dialogue, which the author calls the prelude, managed by the
poet, a critic, and one Mr. Peregrine the poet's friend. The author here
seems to be under the same mistake with other modern writers, who are
fond of barbarous and bloody stories. The Epilogue is written by Jo.
Haynes.
* * * * *
JOHN PHILIPS,