,■ 


BIOGRAPHIA    DRAMATICA; 

OH,    A 

COMPANION  TO  THE  PLAYHOUSE. 
VOL.  I.— PART  I. 


fOasctLt,  Prmter,  Little  Queen  Street,  London. 


BIOGRAPHIA  DRAMATICA; 

OK,    A 

COMPANION  TO  THE  PLAYHOUSE : 

CONTAINING 

Historical  and  critical  Memoirs,  and  original  Anecdotes t 


BRITISH    AND    IRISH 

Dramatic  Wxitxxs, 

FROM 

THE    COMMENCEMENT    OF    OUR    THEATRICAL    EXHIBITIONS; 

AMONG    WHOM    ARE 

SOME  OF  THE  MOST  CELEBRATED  ACTORS: 

ALSO 

AN  ALPHABETICAL  ACCOUNT,    AND  CHRONOLOGICAL  LISTS,    OF  THEIR  WORKS, 
THE  DATES  WHEN    PRINTED,   AND  OBSERVATIONS  ON   THEIR  MERITS; 

TOGETHER    WITH 

AN  INTRODUCTORY  VIEIV  OF  THE  RISE  AND  PROGRESS 

OF    THE 

BRITISH  STAGE. 


•R1GINALLY    COMPILED,    TO    THE    YEAR     I764,    BY  h         ff^k^       t^^TS 


DAVID  ERSKINE  BAKER. 


6 


CONTINUED    THENCE    TO    I?82,    BY      (^    \$  S^ \     *| 

ISAAC  REED,  F.  A.  S.       *    yj    I     i 

n  to  the  End  of  November  1 8 1 1 ,  -with  very  consiMrabk 


OT 


And  brought  down  to  the  End  of  November  1 8 1 1 ,  -with  very 
Additions  and  Improvements  throughout,   by 

STEPHEN  JONES. 


IN    THREE    VOLUMES. 
VOL.  I.— PART  I. 


LONDON : 

FRINTED    FOR    LONGMAN,     HURST,     REES,    ORME,    AND    BROWN,     T. 

FAYNE,    G.    AND  W.   NICOL,    NICHOLS   AND   SON,    SCATCHKRD 

AND  LETTERMAN,  J.  BARKER,  W.MILLER,  R.  H.   EVANS, 

I.  HARDING,    J,  FAULDER,    AND  GALE  AND  CURTIS, 

1813, 


**  ^ 


ZOr 

v  ' 


TO 

HIS  ROYAL  HIGHNESS 

GEORGE  AUGUSTUS  FREDERICK, 

PRINCE     REGENT 

OF    THE 

UNITED  KINGDOM 

OF 

GREAT    BRITAIN    AND    IRELAND. 


SIR, 

I  he  very  distinguished  patronage 
which  Your  Royal  Highness  has  been  pleased  to 
bestow  on  the  Fine  Arts  in  this  happy  country  ;  Your 
princely  munificence  to  that  meritorious  Institution, 
The  Literary  Fund ;  but  more  especially  Your  late 
marked  encouragement  of  the  Drama,  by  conde- 
scending, in  a  conspicuous  manner,  to  grace  the 
erection  of  the  new  Theatre  Royal  in  Covent  Garden, 
and  by  allowing  Your  Bust  to  form  the  subject  of  the 
Corporate  Seal  of  the  Subscribers  to  that  in  Drury 
Lane;  will,  it  is  hoped,  plead  my  apology  for  having 
presumed,  without  Your  knowledge,  to  dedicate  to 
Your  Royal  Highness  a  publication  which,  I  trust, 
will  be  found  a  useful  accession  to  the  dramatic 
department  of  literature. 

Were  I  to  deviate  from  the  immediate  subject  of 
this  Work,  to  contemplate  the  general  tenour  of 
Your  Royal  Highness's  administration  of  the  Go* 
vernment  of  this  United  Kingdom,  since  your  accept- 
ance of  the  high  office  of  Regent,  in  consequence  of 
the  unhappy  illness  of  Your  Royal  Father,  our  most 
beloved  and  revered  Sovereign,  a  wide  field,  indeed, 


VI  DEDICATION. 

would  open  to  my  view,  and  one  in  which  I  should 
delight  to  expatiate  ;  but,  however  much  disposed  to 
engage  in  this  pleasing  task,  I  can  only,  upon  the  pre- 
sent occasion,  adopt,  as  most  expressive  of  my  sense 
of  Your  magnanimity  and  patriotism,  the  sentiments 
contained  in  a  recent  unanimous  resolution  of  the 
Corporation  of  London,  declaring  "  the  deep  and 
"  grateful  sense  entertained  by  the  Court  of  Your 
"  public  virtues,  and  amiable  and  endearing  qualities; 
"  of  the  purity  of  Your  constitutional  principles, 
"  exemplified  by  Your  unvaried  attachment  to  the 
"  rights  and  liberties  of  the  people ;  of  Your  ex- 
"  alted  forbearance  and  moderation  during  the  whole 
"  of  Your  Royal  Father's  afflicting  indisposition ; 
"  and  of  Your  rare  self-denial,  in  refusing  to  in- 
"  crease  the  national  expenditure  by  any  temporary 
"  addition  to  Your  state  and  dignity  as  Prince  Re- 
"  gent :  thus  practically  illustrating  the  union  which 
"  must  ever  exist  between  the  feelings  of  a  great 
':  and  patriot  Prince,  and  the  happiness  of  a  free  and 
"  loyal  people. " 

That  the  Work  which,  with  profound  respect,  I 
here  inscribe  to  Your  Royal  Highness,  may,  at  some 
favourable  opportunit}',  afford  You  a  temporary  and 
not  an  unwelcome  relaxation  from  the  cares  of  Em- 
pire, is  the  ardent  wish  of, 

Sir, 
Your  Royal  Highness's 
Most  obedient  and  most  humble  Servant, 

i<oNdov,  STEPHEN  JONES, 

Dec.   1,   IS  11, 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  influx  of  Dramatic  Writings  within  the  last  thirty  years 
has  been  so  great,  that  the  number  of  those  recorded  in  the 
former  edition  of  this  work  (17S2)  has  been  very  nearly  doubled 
in  the  present;  which,  however,  is  by  no  means  to  be  considered 
as  a  mere  continuation ;  for,  nearly  as  much  labour  and  research 
has  been  bestowed  upon  correcting  throughout,  and  rendering 
more  perfect,  the  portion  of  the  work  which  liad  been  before 
printed,  as  upon  that  pait  which  may  more  legitimately  claim  to 
be  considered  as  new. 

A  very  great  number  of  hidierto  unknown  or  uncertain  date* 
have,  by  the  exercise  of  unremitted  diligence,  been  now  ascertained; 
and  many  hundreds  of  erroneous  dates  have  been  rectified  from 
actual  inspection  of  the  original  editions.  It  is  hoped,  therefore, 
that  whoever  may  hereafter  have  occasion  to  consult  this  Cata- 
logue, will  not,  where  he  may  find  that  its  dates  differ  from 
former  authorities,  too  hastily  conclude  that  they  must  therefore 
be  wrong. 

The  Editor  brought  to  this  laborious  undertaking  the  result  of 
thirty  years  acquaintance  with  the  early  British  Dramatists  :  his 
collectanea  were,  of  course,  numerous ;  yet  there  was  an 
obvious  necessity  for  his  looking  beyond  their  limits  for  materials 
that  might  enliven  as  well  as  enlarge  and  improve  the  Work. 
Upon  Mr.  Kemble,  therefore,  he  took  the  liberty  of  calling; 
though  scarcely  personally  known  to  him.     The  great  courtesy 


Vlil  ADVERTISEMENT. 

and  kindness  that  he  experienced  from  that  gentleman,  and  the 
liberality  with  which  Mr.  Kemble  spontaneously  offered  the  loan 
of  his  interleaved  and  corrected  copy  of  the  book,  as  well  as  the 
free  use  of  any  others  in  his  matchless  dramatic  library,  made  an 
indelible  impression  on  the  mind  of  the  Editor,  who,  before  that 
time,  had  only  had  an  opportunity  of  contemplating  his  public 
character,  as  the  best  living  illustrator  of  our  country's  Drama- 
tists, and  the  ornament  and  honour  of  the  British  Stage. 

To  Mr.  Kemble's  kindness,  therefore,  this  book  stands 
greatly  indebted  :  it  also  owes  much  to  the  obliging  communica- 
tions of  James  Bindley,  Esq.  of  the  Stamp  Office,  and 
Joseph  Clarke,  Esq.  of  Hull. — Some  useful  hints,  that  were 
received  too  late  to  be  adopted  in  the  body  of  the  work,  but 
which  contribute  to  improve  the  Appendices,  were  furnished  by 
ihe  Editor's  much-esteemed  friend  Thomas  Park,  Esq.  F.A.S.; 
the  Rev.  James  Eyre,  of  Solihull,  near  Birmingham;  the  Rev. 
James  Plumptre,  B.  D.  Fellow  of  Clare  Hall,  Cambridge; 
and  Philip  Bliss,  Esq.  Fellow  of  St.  John's  College,  Oxford. 


*#*  In  the  course  of  the  following  work,  frequent  mention 
will  be  found  of  MS.  plays  destroyed  by  Mr.  Warburton's 
servant.  It  may  be  proper  to  state,  that  the  fact  was  briefly  this: 
John  Warburtou,  Esq.  Somerset  Herald  at  Arms,  had  amassed  a 
very  considerable  collection  of  old  plays,  in  MS.  presumed  to  be 
originals;  but,  by  some  strange  negligence,  a  servant  of  his,  pro- 
bably a  cook,  found  easy  access  to  these  ;  and,  before  a  discovery 
was  made,  had  devoted,  from  time  to  time,  nearly  the  whole 
collection  to  culinary  purposes,  as  waste-paper.  Mr.  Warbnrton 
died  May  \%   1759. 


(    «    ) 


INTRODUCTION 


A   JBE3EF   VIEW 

OF 

THE     RISE    AND     PROGRESS 

OF 


It  is  well  observed  by  the  author*  of  a  Dissertation  on  the 
Theatres,  that  dramatic  compositions  have  ever  been  esteemed 
among  the  greatest  productions  of  human  genius ;  and  the  exhibi- 
tion of  them  .on  the  public  Stage,  has  by  some  of  the  wisest  and 
best  men  in  all  ages  been  countenanced,  as  highly  serviceable  to 
the  cause  of  virtue. 

Nothing  is  more  certain,  than  that  example  is  the  strongest  and 
most  effectual  manner  of  enforcing  the  precepts  of  wisdom; 
and  that  a  just  theatrical  representation  is  the  best  picture  of 
human  nature  :  with  this  peculiar  advantage,  that  in  this  humaniz- 
ing and  instructing  academy,  the  young  spectator  may  learn  the 
manners  of  the  world,  without  running  through  the  perils  of  it. 

The  same  writer  observes,  that  as  pleasure  is  the  pursuit  of  the 
greater  part  of  mankind  (and  most  justly  so,  while  this  pursuit  is 
continued  under  the  guidance  of  reason),  all  well-regulated 
states  have  judged  it  proper,  both  in  a  political  and  moral  sense, 
to  have  some  public  exhibitions,  for  the  entertainment  of  the 
people.  And,  indeed,  what  entertainment,  what  pleasure  so 
rational,  as  that  which  is  afforded  by  a  well-written  and  well-acted 
play ;  whence  the  mind  receives  at  once  its  fill  of  improvement 
and  delight  r — Thus  thought  the  wise  and  lettered  sages  of  ancient 
Greece;  the  Romans  adopted  the  same  sentiments,  and  every 
polished  nation  in  Europe  has  received  and  cultivated  the  dramatic 
art.     In  this  respect,  our  British  islands  have  been  most  eminent  j 

*  Cibbtr, 
VOL,  I.  b 


at  LNTRODUCTION. 

having  produced  admirable  actors,  and  excellent  author?,  both  in 
the  comic  and  tragic  style  ;  and  sometimes  also  noble  patrons,  who 
have  done  honour  to  themselves,  by  becoming  the  friends  and 
protectors  of  men  of  genius. 

It  is  well  known  to  the  learned,  at  what  expense  the  .Athenians 
supported  their  Theatres ;  and  how  often  from  among  their  poets 
they  chose  governors  of  their  provinces,  generals  of  their  armies, 
and  guardians  of  their  liberties. — Who  were  more  jealous  of  their 
liberties  than  the  Athenians  ?  Who  belter  knew  that  corruption 
and  debauchery  are  the  greatest  foes  to  liberty  ?  \A  ho  better  knew, 
than  they,  that  the  freedom  of  the  Theatre  (next  to  that  of  the 
Senate)  was  the  best  support  of  liberty,  against  all  the  undermin- 
ing arts  of  those  who  might  wickedly  seek  to  sap  its  foundation  ? 

,  If  it  be  asked,  How  came  the  Athenians  to  lay  out  an  hundred 
thousand  pounds  upon  the  decoration  of  one  single  tragedy  of 
Sophocles?  may  we  not  answer,  It  was  not  merely  for  the  sake 
of  exhibiting  a  pompous  spectacle  for  idleness  to  gaze  at,  but  be- 
cause it  was  the  most  rational,  most  instructive,  and  most  delight- 
ful composition,  that  human  wit  had  then  arrived  at ;  and,  con- 
sequently, the  most  worthy  to  be  the  entertainment  of  a  wise  and 
warlike  nation  ?  And  it  may  be  still  a  question — Whether  this 
public  spirit  inspired  Sophocles ;  or,  whether  Sophocles  inspired 
this  public  spirit  ? 

The  divine  Socrates  assisted  Euripides  in  his  compositions. 
The  w  ise  Solon  frequented  plays,  even  in  his  decline  of  life ;  and 
Plutarch  informs  us,  that  he  thought  plays  useful  to  polish  the 
manners,  and  instil  the  principles  of  virtue. 

As  arts   and  sciences  increased  in  Rome,  when  learning,  elo- 
quence, and  poetry  flourished,  Laelius  improved  his  social  hours 
with  Terence ;  and  Scipio  thought  it  not  beneath  him  to  make 
one  in  so  agreeable  a  party.     Caesar,  who  was  an  excellent  poet 
as  well  as   orator,    thought  the  former  title   an  addition  to   his 
honour,  and  ever  mentioned  Terence  and  Menander  with  great 
respect.     Augustus  found  it  easier  to  make  himself  sovereign  of 
the  world,  than  to  write  a  good  tragedy :  he  began  a  play,  called 
Ajax,  but  could  not  finish  it.     Brutus,  the  virtuous,  the  moral 
Brutus,   thought  his  time  not  misemployed  in  a  journey   from 
Kerne  to  Naples,  only  to  see  an  excellent  troop  of  comedians; 
and  was  so  pleased  with  their  performance,  that  he  sent  them  to 
Pome,  with  letters  of  recommendation  to  Cicero,  to  take  them 
under  his  patronage  : — this  too  was  at  a  time  when  the  city  was 
under  no  small  confusion  from  the  murder  of  Cassar ;  yet,  amidst 
the  tumults  of  those  times,  and  the  hurry  of  Ins  own  affairs,  he 
thought  the  having  a  good  company  of  actors  of  too  much  conse- 
quence to  the  public  to  be   neglected.     And  in  such  estimation 
was  Roscius  hold  by  Cicero,  that,  in  pleading  the  cause  of  the 


INTRODUCTION.  xi 

poet  Archias,  he  makes   the  most  honourable  mention   of  that 
actor. 

In  the  days  of  Augustus,  when  dramatic  entertainments  were 
the  common  public  diversions  of  the  people  through  all  the  pro- 
vinces of  that  spacious  empire ;  had  they  been  deemed  immoral, 
could  they  have  passed  unceusured  by  all  our  Apostles,  who  at 
that  time  went  forth  by  divine  command  to  "  convert  all  nations  r" 
No  vice,  no  impiety  escaped  them  ;  not  only  crying  sins  provoked 
their  censure, — they  even  reproved  the  indecencies  of  dress  and 
indelicacies  of  behaviour,  hi  many  places  they  must  certainly  have 
met  with  Theatres.  But  we  hear  not  of  one  poet  or  actor  who 
received  an)  reprimand  from  them.  On  the  contrary,  we  meet 
with  several  passages  in  the  writings  of  St.  Paul,  in  which  he  re- 
fers to  the  dramatic  poets,  citing  their  expressions,  in  confirmation 
of  his  own  sentiments.  But  to  come  nearsr  our  own  times, — the 
truly  pious  and  l<  arned  Archbishop  Tillotson,  speaking  or" play  <, gives 
this  testimony  i.i  their  favour.  thc=i  "  they  might  be  so  trained,  and 
"  governed  by  such  rules,  as  not  only  to  be  innocent K  diverting, 
"  but  instructive  and  useful,  to  put  some  foliies  a*;d  vices  out  of 
"  countenance,  which  cannot  perhaps  be  so  deccitl)  reproved,  nor 
"  so  effectually  exposed  and  corrected,  any  other  waj  V 

It  is  generally  imagined,  that  the  English  Sfage  rose  later  than 
the  rest  of  its  neighbours.  Those  who  hold  this  opinion  will, 
perhaps,  wonder  to  hear  of  theatrical  entertainments  almost  as 
early  as  the  Conquest;  and  yet  nothing  is  more  certain,  if  we 
may  believe  an  honest  monk.,  one  William  Stephanides,  or  Fitz 
Stephen,  in  his  Descriptio  twbifissi>ntz  Civitatis  Londoyiia,  who 
writes  thus:  "  London,  instead  of  common  interludes  belonging 
"  to  the  Theatres,  has  plays  of  a  more  holy  subject :  representa- 
u  tions  of  those  miracles  «  Iiich  the  holy  confessors  wrought,  or  of 
"  the  sufferings  wherein  the  glorious  constancy  of  the  martyrs  did 
"  appear."  I'lns  author  was  a  monk  of  Canterbury,  who  wrote 
in  the  reign  of  Henry  II.  and  died  in  that  of  Richard  1.  1 19 1  : 
and  as  he  does  not  mention  these  representations  as  novelties  to 
the  people  (for  he  is  describing  all  the  common  diversions  in  use 
at  that  time),  we  can  hardl)  rix  them  lower  than  the  Conquest; 
and  this,  we  believe,  is  an  earlier  date  than  any  other  nation  of 
Europe  can  produce  for  their  theatrical  representations.  About 
140  years  after  this,  in  the  reign  of  Edward  III.  it  was  ordained 

*  A  reverend  divine,  of  our  own  day,  has  thought  h:s  time  not  mis-spent,  nor 
his  sacred  function  degraded,  by  his  descending  to  discuss  the  subject  ot  tne  Stage, 
with  a  view  to  its  improvement  in  a  mora1,  or  religious  light-  See  Four  Discourses  on 
Subjects  rtlatbigto  the  St  ige:  preached  at  G  eat  St.  Mary's  church,  Cambridge,  ont 
Sunday,  Sept.  25,  and  Sunday,  Oct.  2,  1808;  with  copious  supplementary  Notes. 
By  James  Plump. re,  B.  D.  Fellow  of  Clare  Hall.  8vo.  1809.  A  sort  of  analysis 
of  these  discouises  may  be  seen,  under  the  head  Reformation  of  the  Stage,  in  The 
European  Magazine*  vqJsj.  lv  and  lri.^  but  the  work  itself  is  welt  worth  attention. 

b3 


xli  INTRODUCTION. 

by  Act  of  Parliament,  that  a  company  of  men  called  vagrants, 
who  had  made  masquerades  through  the  whole  city,  should  be 
wh  pt  out  of  London,  because  they  represented  scandalous  things 
in  the  little  alehouses,  and  other  places  where  the  populace  as- 
sembled. What  the  nature  of  these  scandalous  things  was,  we 
are  not  told  ;  whether  lew  d  and  obscene,'  or  impious  and  profane  ; 
but  we  should  rather  think  the  former,  for  the  word  masquerade 
has  an  ill  sound,  and,  we  believe,  they  were  no  better  in  their  in- 
fancy than  at  present.  It  is  true,  the  mysteries  of  religion  were 
soon  after  this  period  made  very  free  w  ilh  all  over  Europe,  being 
represented  in  so  stupid  and  ridiculous  a  manner,  that  the  stories 
of  The  New  Testament  in  particular  were  thought  to  encourage 
libertinism  and  infidelity.  In  all  probability,  therefore,  the  actors 
last  mentioned  were  of  that  species  called  mummers;  these  were 
wont  to  stroll  about  the  country,  dressed  in  an  antic  manner, 
dancing,  mimicking,  and  showing  postures.  This  practice  is  still 
continued  in  some  parts  of  England ;  but  it  was  formerly  so 
general,  and  drew  the  common  people  so  much  from  their  busi- 
ness, that  it  was  deemed  a  very  pernicious  custom :  and  as  these 
mummers  always  went  masked  and  disguised,  they  were  but  too 
frequently  encouraged  to  commit  violent  outrages,  and  were 
guilty  of  many  lewd  disorders.  However,  bad  as  they  were, 
they  seem  to  be  the  true  original  comedians  of  England ;  and  their 
excellence  altogether  consisted,  as  that  of  their  successors  does  in 
part  still,  in  mimicry  and  humour. 

In  an  Act  of  Parliament  made  in  the  4th  year  of  Henry  IV. 
mention  is  made  of  certain  wastors,  master-rimours,  minstrels, 
and  other  vagabonds,  who  infested  the  land  of  Wales  ;  "  And  it  is 
"  enacted,  that  no  master-rimour,  minstrel,  or  other  vagabond, 
"  be  in  any  wise  sustained  in  the  land  of  Wales,  to  make  com- 
"  moiths  or  gatherings  upon  the  people  there."  What  these 
master-rimours  were,  which  were  so  troublesome  in  Wales  in  par- 
ticular, we  cannot  tell ;  possibly  they  might  be  the  degenerate 
descendants  of  the  ancient  bards.  It  is  also  difficult  to  determine 
what  is  meant  by  their  making  commoiths.  rIhe  word  signifies,  in 
Welsh,  any  district,  or  part  of  a  hundred  or  cantred,  containing 
about  one  half  of  it;  that  is,  fifty  villages;  and  might  possibly  be 
made  use  of  by  these  master-rimours  when  they  had  fixed  upon  a 
place  to  act  in,  and  gave  intimation  thereof  for  ten  or  twelve  miles 
round,  which  is  a  circuit  that  will  take  in  about  fifty  villages.  And 
that  this  was  commonly  done,  appears  from  Carew's  Survey  of 
Cormcall>  which  was  written  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time.  Speak- 
ing of  the  diversions  of  the  people,  "  The  guary  miracle,"  says  he, 
"  in  English  a  miracle  play,  is  a  kind  of  interlude,  compiled  in 
"  Cornish,  out  of  some  Scripture  history.  For  representing  it, 
"  they  raise  an  amphitheatre  m  some  open  field,  having  the  dia- 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

"  meters  of  its  inclosed  plain,  some  forty  or  fifty  feet.  The  country- 
"'  people  flock  from  all  sides  many  miles  off,  to  see  and  hear  it ; 
u  for  they  have  therein  devils  and  devices  to  delight  as  well  the  eye 
"  as  the  ear."  Mr.  Carew  has  not  been  so  exact,  as  to  give  us 
the  time  when  these  guars  miracles  wire  exhibited  in  Cornwall ; 
but,  by  the  manner  of  it,  the  custom  seems  to  be  very  ancient. 

The  year  1378  is  the  earliest  date  we  can  find,  in  which  express 
mention  is  made  of  the  representation  of  mysteries  in  England. 
In  this  year  the  scholars  of  Paul's  school  presented  a  petition  to 
Richard  11.  praying  His  Majesty  "  to  prohibit  some  unexpert 
"  people  from  presenting  the  history  of  the  Old  Testament,  to 
"  the  great  prejudice  of  the  said  clergy,  who  have  been  at  great 
"  expense  in  order  to  represent  it  publicly  at  Christinas."  About 
twelve  years  afterwards,  viz.  in  13<J0,  the  parish-clerks  of  London 
are  said  to  have  played  interludes  at  Skinner's  Well,  July  18,  1 9, 
and  CO.  And  again,  in  1409,  the  tenth  year  of  Henry  IV.  they 
acted  at  Cierkenvvell  (which  took  its  name  from  this  custom  of  the 
parish-clerks  acting  plays  there),  for  eight  days  successively,  a  play 
concerning  the  Creation  of  the  World  ;  at  which  were  present  most 
of  the  nobiiity  and  gentry  of  the  kingdom.  These  instances  are 
sufficient  to  prove  that  we  had  the  mysteries  here  very  early.  How 
long  they  continued  to  be  exhibited  amongst  us,  cannot  be  exactly 
determined.  This  period  one  might  call  the  dead-sleep  of  the 
Muses.  And  when  this  was  over,  they  did  not  presently  awake, 
but,  in  a  kind  of  morning  dream,  produced  the  moralities  that  fol- 
lowed. However,  these  jumbled  ideas  had  some  shadow  of  mean- 
ing. The  mysteries  only  represented,  in  a  senseless  manner,  some 
miraculous  history  of  the  Old  or  New  Testament:  but  in  these 
moralities  something  of  design  appeared,  a  fable  and  a  moral ; 
something  also  of  poetry ;  the  virtues,  vices,  and  other  affections 
of  the  mind,  being  frequent!'.  pi rsonified.  But  the  moralities 
were  also  very  often  concerned  w  holly  in  religious  matters ;  for 
religion  then  was  every  one's  concern,  and  it  was  no  wonder  if  each 
party  employed  all  arts  to  promote  it.  Had  they  been  in  use 
now ,  they  would,  doubtless,  have  turned  as  much  upon  politics. 
Thus,  The  Sere  Custom  was  certainlv  intended  to  promote  the 
Reformation,  when  it  was  revived  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 
And  in  the  more  early  days  of  the  Reformation,  it  was  so  common 
for  the  partisans  of  the  old  doctrines  (and  perhaps  also  of  the  new) 
to  defend  and  illustrate  their  tenets  this  way,  th.;t  in  the  24th  of 
Henry  VIII.  in  an  Act  of  Parliament  made  for  the  promoting  of 
true  religion,  we  find  a  clause  restraining  all  rimors  or  players  fr.nn 
singing  in  sonajs,  or  playing  in  interludes,  any  thing  that  should 
contradict  the  established  doctrines.  It  was  also  customary  at  this 
time  to  act  these  moral  and  religious  dramas  in  private  houses,  for 
t!;e  edification  and  improvement,  as  well  as  the  diversion,  of  well- 

b3 


xiv  INTRODUCTION. 

disposed  families ;  and  for  this  purpose  the  appearance  of  the 
persons  of  the  driima  was  so  disposed,  as  that  five  or  six  actors 
might  represent  twenty  personages. 

\\  hat  lias  been  said  of  the  mysteries  and  moralities,  it  is  hoped, 
will  be  sufficient  just  to  show  the  reader  what  die  nature  of  them 
was.  We  should  have  been  glad  to  have  been  more  particular ; 
but  where  materials  are  not  to  be  had,  the  building  must  be  de- 
ficient. And,  to  say  the  truth,  a  more  particular  knowledge  of 
these  tilings,  any  further  than  as  it  serves  to  show  the  turn  and 
genius  of  our  ancestors,  and  the  progressive  refinement  of  (>ii.-  lan- 
guage, was  so  little  worth  preserving,  that  the  loss  of  it  is  si  arcely 
to  be  regretted.  We  proceed  therefore  with  our  subject.  The 
Muse  might  now  be  said  to  be  just  awake  when  she  Lean  to  trifle 
in  the  old  interludes,  and  aimed  at  something  like  wit  and  humour. 
And  for  these  John  Heywood,  the  epigrammatist,  undonbl 
claims  the  earliest,  if  not  the  foremost,  place.  He  was  jestei  to 
King  Henry  VIII.  but  lived  till  the  beginning  of  Queen  Elizabeth's 
reign.  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle,  which  is  generally  called  our 
first  comedy,  and  not  undeservedly,  appeared  soon  after  the  inter- 
ludes: it  is,  indeed,  altogether  of  a  comic  cast,  and  wants  not 
humour,  though  of  a  low  and  sordid  kind.  And  now  dramatic 
writers,  properly  so  called,  began  to  appear,  and  turn  theii  talents 
to  the  stage*.  Henry  Parker,  son  of  Sir  William  Parker,  is  said 
to  have  written  several  tragedies  and  comedies  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  VII I.;  and  one  John  Hoker,  in  1535,  wrote  a  comedy, 
called  Piscator,  or  The  Fisher  conceit.  Mr.  Richard  Edwards, 
who  was  born  in  1523  (and  in  the  beginning  of  Queen  Elizabeth's 
reign  was  made  one  of  the  gentlemen  of  Her  Majesty's  chapel, 
and  master  of  the  children  there),  being  both  an  excellent  musician 
and  a  good  poet,  wrote  two  comedies,  one  called  Palawan  <!ud 
Arci/te,  in  which  a  cry  of  hounds  in  hunting  was  so  well  imitated, 
that  the  Queen  and  the  audience  were  extremely  delighted ;  the 
other  called  Damon  and  Pithias,  trco  the  most  faithful  I  est  Ft  'wads. 
About  the  same  time  came  Thomas  Sackville  Lord  Buckhurst, 
and  ri nomas  ISorton,  the  writers  of  Gorboduc,  the  first  dramatic 
piece  of  any  consideration  in  the  English  language.  Of  thes<  and 
some  others^  hear  the  judgment  of  Puttenham,  in  his  Art  of 
Poetry,  written  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth:  '"'  i  tli.nk  (  nys 
"  he)  that  for  tragedy  the  Lord  of  Buckhurst,  and  Maister  Edward 
"  Ferrys  [Ferrers],  for  such  doings  as  1  have  seen  of  theirs,  do 
"deserve  "the  highest  price.     The  Earl  of  Oxford,  and  Maister 

*  "  Francis  I.  willing  to  preserve  the  friendship  newly  contracted  with  Henry  VIII. 
"  sent  him  tie  order  ot  St.  Michael  by  A>  ne  de  Montmorency,  one  of  ihe  knights, 
f*  v»-hp  arrived  the  20th  of  Ociober  15-7,  with  600  horse,  at  London;  and  af  er 
"  audience  had  been  given,  thty  were  on  November  10  entertained  by  our  King, 
"  at  Gieenwich,  with  a  sump.uous  feast,  and  with  a  comedy,  in  which  his  dau^r** 
"  ter,  the  Princus  Mary,  acted  a  part." — Hekb£Rt,  p.  85, 


INTRODUCTION.  a* 

u  Edwards  of  Her  Majesty's  chapel,  for  comedy  and  interlude." 
And  in  another  place  he  says — "  But  the  principal  man  in  this 
"  profession  (of  poetry),  at  the  same  time  (viz.  Edward  VI.),  was 
"  Maister  Edward  Ferrys,  a  man  of  no  less  mirth  and  felicity  than 
"  John  Hey  wood,  but  of  much  more  skill  and  magnificence  in  his 
"  metre,  and  therefore  wrote  for  the  most  part  to  the  stage  in  tra- 
"  geciy,  and  sometimes  in  comedy  or  interlude;  wherein  he  gave 
"  the  King  so  much  good  recreation,  as  he  had  thereby  many  good 
"  rewards."  Of  this  Edward  Ferrys,  so  considerable  a  writer, 
we  can  find  no  remains,  nor  even  the  titles  of  any  thing  he  wrote. 
After  these  followed  John  Lyly,  famous  in  his  time  for  wit,  and 
having  greatly  improved  the  English  language,  iu  a  romance  wl  ic :h 
he  wrote,  entitled  Euphues  and  his  England,  or  The  An  .tour/ 
of  11  it ;  of  which  it  is  said  by  the  publisher  of  his  plays  :  "  Our 
"  nation  are  in  his  debt  for  a  new  English  which  he  taujit  th<  m, 
"  Euphues  and  his  England  began  first  that  language.  All  our 
"ladies  were  then  his  scholars;  and  that  beauiy  in  court  who 
•"  could  not  parte  Euphuism,  was  as  little  regarded  as  she  v  hith 
"  now  there  speaks  not  French."  This  extraordinary  romance  so 
famous  for  its  wit,  so  fashionable  in  the  court  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
and  which  is  said  to  have  introduced  so  remarkable  a  change  in  our 
language,  we  have  seen  and  read.  It  is  an  unnatural  affected  jar- 
gon, in  which  the  perpetual  use  of  metaphors,  allusions.  aiiegoi  \<  s, 
and  analogies,  is  to  pass  for  wit ;  and  stiff  bombast  foi  language. 
And  with  this  nonsense  the  court  of  Queen  Elizabi  th  n  hose  I  imes 
afforded  better  models  for  style  and  composition  than  almost  . 
since)  became  miserably  infected,  and  greatly  helped  to  let-in  u.i 
the  vile  pedantry  of  language  in  the  following  reign.  So  much 
mischief  the  most  ridiculous  instrument  may  do,  when  .  ■ -.  pro- 
posed, by  deviating  from  Nature,  to  improve  upon  her  simplicity 

Though  Tragedy  aud  Comedy  began  now  to  it  up  their  he>.  is, 
yet  they  could  do  no  more  for  some  time  than  bluster  and  quibble; 
and  how  imperfect  they  were  a«  ail  dramatic  an.  appears  from  ;»n 
excellent  criticism,  by  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  on  the  writers  of  ih;.c 
time.  Yet  they  seem  to  have  had  a  disposition  to  !o  better  had 
they  known  how,  as  appears  by  the  several  efforts  they  used  to  'ictc 
the  lump  into  a  shape  :  for  some  oi  th<  ir  pieces  they  adorned  ••  ith 
dumb-shows,  some  with  choruses,  una  s  >me  the*  hit  <  duced  and 
explained  by  an  interlocutor.  Yet  imperfect  -»  they  were*  we 
had  made  a  far  better  progress  at  !hi«  time  than  ;<ir  neighbours  the 
French:  the  Italians,  indeed,  by  early  translations  of  I  e  oid  dra- 
matic w liters,  had  arrived  to  greater  perfection ;  but  \\e  were  at 
least  upon  a  fooling  with  the  other  nations  of  Europe. 

But  now,  as  it  were,  all  at  once  (as  it  happened  in  Franc*, 
though  in  a  much  later  period),  the  true  drama  received  birth  ai 
perfection  from  the  creative  genius  of  Shakspeare,  Fletcher,  an 

b4 


svi  INTRODUCTION. 

Jonson,  whose  several  characters  are  so  well  known,  that  it  would 
be  superfluous  to  say  an)  more  of  them. 

Having  thus  traced  the  dramatic  Muse  through  all  her  cha- 
racters and  transformations,  till  she  had  acquired  a  reasonable 
figure,  li  t  us  ne>\\  return  and  take  a  more  particular  view  of  thi  stage 
and  the  actors.  The  first  company  of  players  that  we  have  any 
account  of,  is  from  a  patent  granted,  in  1574,  to  James  Burbage, 
and  others,  servants  to  iK  Earl  of  Leicester.  In  1.57S  the  chil- 
dren of  Paul's  appear  to  have  been  performers  of  dramatic  enter- 
ents.  About  twelve  years  afterwards  die  parish-clerks  of 
London   are  >a:d  to  have  acted  the  i  -  at  Skinner's  Well. 

h  of  these  tv\o  companies  may  have  been  the  earliest  is  not 
certain  :  but  as  the  children  of  Paul's  are  first  mentioned,  we  must 
in  justice  give  the  priorirj  to  them.  It  is  certain,  that  the  mys- 
teries ami  moralities  were  acted  by  these  two  societies  many  years 
befon  at  ;•  *  tl  ei  regular  companies  appeared:  and  the'  children  of 
Paul's  continued  to  :  ct  long  after  tragedies  and  con  edies  came  in 
v<  gue.  It  is  believed,  the  next  company  regularly  established  was, 
the  children  of  th<  aPel>  in  uSe  beginning  of  Queeu  I 

1  Dili's  reign;  the  direction  vi  which  was  i  Mr.  Kichard 

Edwards  before  menti<  .<.-■:  and  pome  few  years  afterwards,  as  the 
>!.!,:t  et  of  lh<  ame  more  fftdicn  us,  a  i    mj  any  was  fit  row  d 

under  the  denomination  of    77.    (  Revels.     The 

children  of  tht  chapel  and  of  the  revels  bte..:,.<  v<  ry  famous  ;  and 
all  Lyly's  plays,  and  many  of  Jonson's  and  others,  were  first  acted 
by  them:  nay,  so  great  was  their  vogue  and  estimation,  that  the 
common  players,  as  may  be  gathered  from  a  scene  in  Han 
grew  jealous  of  them.  However,  they  served  as  an  excellent 
nursen  foi  th<  who  afterwards  became  approved 

actors,  be  ing  educated  among  ihem. 

It  is  surprising  to  consider  what  a  number  of  playhouses  were 
supported  in  London  about  this  time.  From  the  y<  i.r  1570  to  the 
year  Hi'Jp.  when   the   playhouse  in  White  as  finished,  no 

Jess  than   seventeen  playhouses  had  been  built.     The  nanus  of 
most  of  them  ma]  it  collected  from  the  title-pages  of  old 
And  as  the  theatres  were  so  numerous,  the  companies  of  players 
were  in  proportion.     Besides  the  children  ei   the  chapel,  and  of 
th«  revels,  we  are  told  that  Queen  Elizabeth,  al  the  requesl 
Francis  Walsinghai  sh<  linhai  lanes  twelve  of  the 

it  time,  who  wen  I  Her 

]Slaj<       -  tns  and  Servants.    But,  exclusive  of  these,] 

em  en  retained  companies  of  players,  who  j  pri- 

ly  in  their  LorriVl  (    >es,  but  y  under  their  license  and 

protection.     -  to  this  is  the  account  which  Stow   give? 

*  Act  ii    sc.  a. 


INTRODUCTION.  xvn 

us :  "  Players  in  former  times  (says  he)  were  retainers  to  noble* 
"  men,  and  none  liad  the  privilege  to  act  plays  but  such  :  so 
l(  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time,  many  of  the  nubility  had  servants  and 
"  retainer1;  who  were  players,  and  went  about  getting  their  liveii- 
"  hood  that  way.  The  Lord  Admiral  had  players,  so  had  Lord 
"  Strange,  that  played  in  the  city  of  London:  and  it  was  usual, 
**  on  any  gentleman's  complaint  of  them  for  indecent  reflections  in 
"  their  plays,  to  have  them  put  down.  Thus  once  the  Lord  jiva- 
"  surer  signified  to  the  Lord  Mayor  to  have  these  players  of 
"  Lord  Admiral  and  Lord  Strange  prohibited,  at  least  for  some 
"  time,  because  one  Mr.  Tilney  had,  for  some  reason,  disliked 
"  them  :  whereupon  the  Mayor  sent  for  both  companies,  and  gave 
"  them  strict  charge  to  forbear  playing  till  further  orders.  The 
"  Lord  Admiral's  players  obeyed ;  but  the  Lord  Strange's,  in  a 
"  contemptuous  manner,  went  to  the  Cross  Keys,  and  played  that 
"afternoon:  upon  which  the  Mayor  committed  two  of  them  to 
"  t!ie  Compter,  and  prohibited  all  playing  for  the  future,  till  die 
"  Treasurer's  pleasure  was  further  known.  This  was  in  1589." 
And  in  another  part  of  his  Survey  of  London,  speaking  of  the 
stage,  he  says,  "  This,  which  was  once  a  recreation,  and  used 
u  therefor  now  and  then  occasionally,  afterwards  by  abuse  became 
"  a  trade  and  calling,  and  so  remains  to  this  day.  In  those  for- 
"  mer  days,  ingenious  tradesmen,  and  gentlemen's  servants,  would 
"  sometimes  gather  a  company  of  themselves,  and  learn  interludes, 
"  to  expose  vice,  or  to  represent  the  noble  actions  of  our  an- 
**  cestors.  fJ  hese  they  played  at  festivals,  in  private  houses,  at 
"  weddings,  or  other  entertainments,  but  in  process  of  time  it  be- 
"  came  an  occupation  ;  and  these  plays  being  commonly  acted  on 
"  Sundays  and  festivals  the  churches  were  forsaken,  and  the  play- 
u  houses  thronged.  Great  inns  utre  used  for  this  purpose, which 
"  had  secret  chambers  and  places,  as  well  as  open  stages  and  gal- 
"  leries.  Here  maids  and  good  citizens'  children  were  inveigled 
"  and  allured  to  private  and  unmeet  contracts;  here  were  publicly 
"  uttered  popular  and  seditious  matters,  unchaste,  uncomely,  and 
"  shameful  speeches,  and  many  other  enormities.  The  consider- 
ation of  these  things  occasioned,  in  1574,  Sir  James  Hawes 
"  being  Mayor,  an  act  of  Common  Council,  wherein  it  was  or- 
"  dairied,  That  no  play  should  be  openly  acted  within  the  hberty 
"  of  the  city,  wherein  should  be  uttered  any  words,  examples,  or 
"  doings  of  any  unchastity,  sedition,  or  such-like  unfit  and  un- 
"  comely  matter,  under  the  penalty  of  five  pounds,  and  fourteen 
"  days  imprisonment :  that  no  play  should  be  acted  till  first 
"  perused  and  allowed  by  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Court  of  Alder- 
"  men  ;  with  many  other  restrictions.  Yet  it  was  provided  that 
"  this  act  should  not  extend  to  plays  showed  in  private  houses,  the 
**  lodgings  of  a  nobleman,  citizen,  or  gentleman,  for  the  celebra- 


iviii  INTRODUCTION. 

"  tion  of  any  marriage,  or  other  festivity,  and  where  no  collection 
"  of  money  was  made  from  the  auditors.  But  these  orders  were 
"not  so  well  observed  as  they  should  be;  the  lewd  matters  of 
"  plays  increased,  and  they  were  thought  dangerous  to  religion, 
"  the  state,  honesty,  and  manners,  and  also  for  infection  in  tho 
"  time  of  si<  kness  :  wherefore  they  Mere  afterwards  i'o*  some  time 
"  totally  suppressed ;  but,  upon  application  to  the  Queen  and 
"  Council,  they  were  again  tolerated,  under  the  following  re- 
"  strictions :  That  no  plays  be  acted  on  Sundays  at  all,  nor  on 
"  any  holidays  till  after  ev<  ning  prayer  :  that  no  playing  be  in  the 
"  dark,  nor  continue  any  such  time  but  as  any  of  the  auditors  may 
"  return  to  their  dwellings  in  London  before  sunset,  or  at 
"before  it  be  dark:  that  the  Queen's  players  only  be  tolerated, 
"  and  of  them  their  number  and  certain  names  to  be  notified  in  the 
"  Lord  Treasurer's  letters  to  the  Lord  Mayor,  and  to  the  Justices 
"  of  Middlesex  and  Surrey;  and  those  her  players  not  to  divide 
"  themselves  in  several  companies  :  and  that,  for  breaking  any  of 
"  these  orders,  Uieir  toleration  cease.  But  ai!  these  prescriptions 
"  were  not  sufficient  to  keep  them  within  due  bounds ;  but  their 
"  plays,  so  abusive  oftentimes  of  virtue,  or  particular  persons, 
"gave  great  offence,  and  occasioned  many  disturbances:  when 
"  they  were  now  and  then  stooped  and  prohibited."  It  is  hoped 
this  long  quotation  from  Stow  will  be  excused,  as  it  serves  not 
only  to  prove  several  facts,  but  to  show  the  customs  of  the  stage 
at  that  time,  and  the  early  depravity  of  it.  But  that  the  plays  not 
only  of  that  age,  but  long  before,  were  sometimes  personal  satires, 
appears  from  a  manuscript  letter  from  Sir  John  Hallies  to  the 
Lord  Chancellor  Burleigh,  found  among  some  papers  belonging 
to  the  House  of  Commons,  in  which  the  Knight  accuses  his  Lord- 
ship of  having  said  several  dishonourable  things  of  him  and  his 
family;  particularly  that  his  grandfather,  who  had  then  been  dead 
seventy  years,  was  a  man  so  remarkably  covetous,  that  the  com- 
mon pia)ers  represented  him  before  the  court  with  great  ap- 
plause. 

Thus  we  see  the  stage  no  sooner  began  to  talk,  than  it  grew 
Scurrilous ;  and  its  first  marks  of  sense  were  seen  in  ribaldry  and 
lasciviousness.  This  occasioned  much  offence;  the  zeal  of  the 
pulpit,  and  the  gravity  of  the  city,  equally  concurred  to  condemn 
it.  Many  pamphlets  were  written  on  both  sides.  Stephen  Gos- 
son,  in  the  year  1579>  published  a  book,  entitled  The  School  of 
Abuse;  or,  A  pleasant  Invective  against  Poets,  Pipers,  Players, 
Jesters,  and  such  like  Caterpillars  of  the  Commonwealth  ;  dedi- 
cated to  Sir  Philip  Sidney.  He  also  wrote  Plays  confuted  in 
Jive  Actions  :  proving  that  they  are  not  to  be  suffered  in  a  Chris- 
tian commonwealth  ;  dedicated  to  Sir  Francis  Walsingham.  The 
defendants  in  this  controversy  were  Thomas  Lodge,  who  wrote  - 


INTRODUCTION.  xb 

play,  called  A  Looking-glass  for  London  and  England ;  and  that 
voluminous  dramatic  writer,  Thomas  Heywood. 

But  to  proceed :  The  stage  soon  after  recovered  its  credit,  and 
rose  to  a  higher  phch  than  ever.  In  lrJO.S,  the  first  year  of  King 
James's  reign,  a  license  was  granted,  under  the  pi  ivy  seal,  to 
Shakspeare,  Fletcher,  Burbage,  Heminge,  Condel,  and  others, 
auth  -rizing  them  to  act  plays,  not  only  at  their  usual  house,  lha 
Globe  on  the  Bankside,  but  in  any  oiher  part  of  the  kingdom, 
during  tlis  Majesty's  pleasure*.  And  now  there  lived  together 
at  tliis  time  many  eminent  players,  concerning  whom  we  cannot 
but  lament  that  such  imperfect  accounts  are  transmitted  to  us. 
The  little,  however,  winch  is  known,  the  reader  will  hud  collected 
together,  with  great  accuracy,  by  Mr.  M  alone,  in  his  Supplement 
to  Shakspeare,  to  which  work  we  refer  our  readers  for  further  in- 
formatiou  "!\ 

And  now  the  theatre?  seems  to  have  been  at  its  height  of  glory 
and  reputation.  Dramatic  authors  abounded,  and  every  year  pro- 
duced a  'lumber  of  new  plays:  nay,  so  great  was  the  passional 
this  Lime  for  show  or  representation,  that  it  was  the  fashion  for  the 
nohility  f:>  celebrate  then  weddings,  birth-days,  and  other  occa- 
sions of  rejoicing,  with  masques  and  interludes,  which  were  exhi- 
bu  d  with  surprising  expense  ;  that  great  architect  Inigo  Jones 
being  frequently  employed  to  furnish  decorations  with  all  the  mag- 
nificence of  his  invention.  Tiie  king  and  his  Lords,  the  Queen 
and  her  Ladies,  frequently  performed  in  these  masques  at  court, 
and  all  the  nobility  in  then  own  private  houses:  in  short, no  public 
entertainment  was  thought  complete  without  them ;  and  to  this 
humour  it  is  that  we  owe  (and  perhaps  it  is  all  that  we  owe  it)  the 
inimitable  Masque  at  Ludtozo  Castle.  I  he  same  universal  eager- 
ness after  theatrical  diversions  continued  during  the  whole  reign  of 
King  James,  and  great  part  of  Charles  the  First,  till  Puritanism, 
which  had  now  gathered  great  strength,  openly  opposed  them  as 
wicked  and  diabolical.  But  Puritanism,  from  a  thousand  con- 
current causes,  every  day  increasing,  in  a  little  time  overturned  the 
constitution ;  and,  among  their  many  reformations,  this  was  one, 
the  total  suppression  of  all  plays  and  playhouses. 

This  event  took  place  on  the  11th  day  of  February  lGl7,  at 

*  A  copy  of  tbis  patent  may  be  seen  in  Mr.  Whalley's  edition  of  Ben  Jonson'a 
Works,  vol.  i.   p.  lxii. 

t  Nee  likewise  Mr.  Malone's  "  Inquiry  into  the  Authenticity  of  certain  miscet- 
"  laneous  Papers  and  lec;a!  Instruments,  published  Dec.  24,  1795,  and  attributed 
"  to  Shakspeare,  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  Henry  Earl  of  Southampton,"  &c.  8vo. 
1796.  Also  Mr.  George  Chalmers's  "  Apology  for  the  Believers  in  the  Shakspeare 
"  t'lpers,''  &c.  8vo.  1797  ;  and  the  "  Supplemental  Apology,"  by  the  same,  8vo. 
1799.  We  could  almost  pardon  the  imposture  of  Mr.  Ireland,  in  consideration  of  its 
having  produced  such  a  valuable  accession  of  early  stage  history  as  has  b»en  col- 
lected into  the  three  volumes  mentioned  in  tbis  note. 


xx  INTRODUCTION. 

veticb.  time  an  ordinance  was  issued  by  the  Lords  and  Commons, 
by  all  stage-players,  and  players  of  interludes  and  common 
pi;  ■  •  y  re  declared  to  be  rogues,  and  liable  to  be  punished  ac- 
cording to  the  statutes  of  the  thirty-ninth  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and 
seventh  of  King  James  the  First.  The  Lord  Ma) or,  Justices  of 
the  Peace,  ami  Sheriffs  of  the  city  of  London  and  Wesimii  •  r, 
and  of  the  counties  of  Middlesex  and  Surrey,  were  likewise  au- 
tl  and  required  to  pull  down  and  demolish  all  playhouses 
within  their  jurisdiction,  and  apprehend  any  persons  convicted  of 
ecting,  who  were  to  be  publicly  whipped;  after  which  they  were 
to  be  bound  in  a  recognisance  to  act  no  more  ;  and  in  case  of  a  re- 
fusal to  enter  into  such  obligation,  the  parties  were  to  be  com- 
mitt  i'  until  they  found  such  security.  If,  after  conviction,  they 
offended  again,  they  were  thereby  declared  incorrigible  rogues, 
and  to  be  punished  and  dealt  with  as  such.  Jt  was  also  declared, 
that  all  money  collected  at  playhouses  should  be  forfeited  to  the 
poor  ;  and  a  penalty  of  five  shillings  was  imposed  on  every  person 
who  should  be  present  at  any  dramatic  entertainment. 

Before  the  promulgation  of  this  severe  ordinance,  the  perform- 
ances of  the  stage  had  been  frequently  interrupted,  even  from  the 
commencement  of  hostilities  between  the  King  and  his  Parlia- 
ment *,  Of  the  several  actors  at  that  time  employed  in  the 
theatres,  the  greater  part,  who  were  not  prevented  by  age,  went 
immediately  into  the  army,  aud,  as  might  be  expected,  took  part 
with  their  Sovereign,  whose  affection  for  their  profession  had  been 
shown  in  many  instances  previous  to  the  open  rupture  between 
him  and  his  people.  The  event  of  war  was  alike  fatal  to  mo- 
narchy and  the  stage.  After  a  violent  and  bloody  contest,  both 
fell  together ;  the  King  lost  his  life  by  the  hands  of  an  executioner; 
the  theatres  were  abandoned  and  destroyed ;  and  those  by  whom 
they  used  to  be  occupied  were  either  killed  in  the  wars,  worn  out 
■with  old  age,  or  dispersed  in  different  places,  fearful  of  assembling, 
they  should  subject  themselves  to  the  penalty  of  the  ordinance, 
and  give  offence  to  the  ruling  powers. 

The  fate  of  their  royal  master  being  determined,  the  surviving 
dependants  on  the  drama  were  obliged  again  to  return  to  the  ex- 
ercise of  their  former  profession.  In  the  winter  of  the  year  ]f)48 
they  ventured  to  act  some  plays  at  the  Cockpit;  but  were  soon  in- 
terrupted aud  silenced  by  the  soldiers,  who  took  them  into  custody 
in  the  midst  of  one  of  their  performances,  and  committed  them 
to  prison.  After  this  ineffectual  attempt  to  settle  at  their  former 
quarters,  we  hear  no  more  of  any  public  exhibition  for  some  time. 
They  still,  however,  kept  together,  and,  by  connivance  of  the  com- 

*  See  a  copy  of  a  proclamation  to  this  effect,  dated  Seat.  1642,  in  The  Buroieim 
$>Ugazine,  vol.  Hi.  p.  192. 


INTRODUCTION.  sxi 

manding  officer  at  Whitehall,  sometimes  represented  privately  a 
few  plays  at  a  short  distance  from  town.  They  also  were  per- 
mitted to  entertain  some  of  the  nobility  at  their  Country-houses, 
where  they  were  paid  by  those  under  whose  protection  they  acted. 
They  also  obtained  leave  at  particular  festivals  to  divert  the  public 
at  the  Red  Bull ;  but  this  was  not  always  without  interruption. 
Those  at  the  head  of  affairs  slill  continued  their  implacable  ran- 
cour against  all  who  were  connected  with  polite  letters,  and  the 
unfortunate  actors  who  survived  to  this  period  felt  the  greatest  dis- 
tress :  a  slender  and  precarious  support  was  all  they  could  obtain. 
In  this  situation  several  of  them  wen*  obliged  to  draw  forth  the 
rhanus*  ripts  of  their  contemporaries  which  they  had  in  their  pos- 
session, and  many  plays  were  published  which  might  otherwise 
have  never  seen  the  light. 

But  though  the  fury  of  religious  zeal  seemed  to  threaten  that  the 
should  never  revive,  and  every  method  was  taken  which  might 
tend  to  accomplish  that  design,  the  pleasure  which  had  been  re- 
ceived from  dramatic  entertainments  was  too  strong  to  be  totally 
overcome.  Amidst  the  gloom  of  fanaticism,  and  while  the  royal 
cause  was  considered  as  desperate,  Sir  William  Davenant,  without 
molestation,  exhibited  entertainments  of  declamation  and  music, 
after  the  manner  of  the  ancients,  at  Rutland  House.  He  Ixgan 
in  the  year  Ifijtj,  and  two  years  afterwards  removed  to  the  Cock- 
pit, Drury  Lane,  where  he  performed  until  the  eve  of  the  Re- 
storation. 

On  the  appearance  of  that  event's  taking  place,  the  retainers  of 
the  theatre  then  remaining  collected  themselves  together,  and  began 
to  resume  their  former  employment.  In  the  year  1659,  about 
the  time  General  Monk  marched  with  his  army  out  of  Scotland 
towards  London,  Mr.  Rhodes,  a  bookseller,  who  had  formerly 
been  w  ardrobe-keeper  to  the  company  w  Inch  acted  at  Black  Friars, 
fitted  up  the  Cockpit  in  Drury  Lane.  The  actors  he  procured 
-were  chiefly  new  to  the  stage ;  and  two  of  them,  Betterton  and 
Ky nation,  had  been  his  apprentices.  i\bout  the  same  time,  the 
few  performers  who  had  belonged  to  the  old  companies  assembled, 
and  began  to  act  at  the  Red  Bull,  in  Saint  John's  Street ;  and 
from  the  eagerness  with  which  two  patents  were  soon  afterwards 
obtained  from  the  Crown,  it  may  be  presumed  that  they  met  with 
a  considerable  share  of  success.  Sir  William  Davenant,  before 
the  civil  wars  broke  out,  had  been  favoured  with  a  patent  by 
Charles  the  First,  and  drerefore  his  claim  to  a  new  one  was  war- 
ranted, as  well  by  his  former  possession,  as  by  his  services  and 
sufferings  in  the  royal  cause.  The  other  candidate  was  Thomas 
Killigrew,  Esq.  a  person  who  had  rendered  himself  acceptable  to 
his  Sovereign,  as  much  by  his  vices  and  follies,  as  by  his  wit,  or 
attachment  to  him  in  his  distress. 


xxii  INTRODUCTION. 

The  actors  who  had  been  employed  by  Rhodes  soon  afterwards 
were  taken  under  the  protection  of  Sir  William  Davenant;  and 
the  remains  of  the  old  companies  were  received  b;  Mr.  Killigrew  ; 
all  or'  them  were  sworn  by  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  as  servants  of 
the  Crown  ;  the  former  being  styled  the  Duke  of  York's  company; 
and  the  latter  that  of  the  King. 

The  King's  company,  after  their  removal  from  the  Red  Bull, 
performed  in  a  pew-built  house,  situated  in  Gibbons's  Tennis 
Court,  near  Ciare  Market.  But  this  Theatre  not  being  well 
adapted  for  the  use  to  which  it  was  appropriated,  they  were 
obliged  to  erect  a  more  convenient  one  in  Drury  Lane.  This 
latter  was  finished  and  opened  on  the  Sth  day  of  April  Ki63,  with 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  comedy  of  The  Humorous  Lieutenant, 
which  was  acted  twelve  nights  successively. 

During  these  removals  of  the  King's  company,  their  rivals  be- 
longing to  the  Duke  of  York  were  shifting  their  places  of  per- 
formance, and  were  some  time  before  they  were  wholly  settled. 
From  the  Cockpit  they  went  to  anew  Theatre,  built  in  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields,  which  was  opened  in  the  spring  of  the  year  160:2,  after 
several  of  their  plays  had  been  rehearsed  at  Apothecaries'  Hall. 
But  this  playhouse  was  likewise  soon  discovered  to  be  ill-contrived 
and  inconvenient,  and  Sir  William  Davenant  found  it  necessary  to 
eeaich  out  a  new-  spot  whereon  to  erect  one  more  commodious.  He 
fixed  upon  Dorset  Garden,  in  Salisbury  Court,  for  this  purpose,  but 
did  not  live  to  see  the  edifice  made  any  use  of.  This  Theatre  will 
be  mentioned  hereafter. 

The  two  companies  being  now  established  at  Drury  Lane  and 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  they  each  began  to  exert  their  endeavours  to 
obtain  the  favour  of  the  town.  The  principal  performers  in  the 
King's  company  were,  of  the  men,  Hart,  Mohun,  Burt,  Winter- 
sel,  Lacy,  Cartwright,  and  Clun ;  to  whom,  after  the  opening  of 
Drury  Lane  Theatre,  were  added  Joe  Haines,  Griffin,  Goodman, 
and  some  others.  Among  the  women  were,  Mrs.  Corey,  Mrs. 
Marshall,  Mrs.  Knep,  and  afterwards  Mrs.  Boutel  and  Mrs. 
Eleanor  Gwyn.  Of  the  Duke's  company  were,  Betterton, 
Sheppy,  Kynaston,  Nokes,  Mosely,  and  Floyd,  who  had  all  per- 
'  formed  under  Rhodes ;  Harris,  Price,  Richards,  and  Blagden, 
were  added  by  Sir  William  Davenant,  who  arso,  about  a  year  after, 
received  Smith,  Sandford,  Medbvnn,  and  two  others.  The  ac- 
tresses were,  Mrs.  Davenport,  Mrs.  Sanderson  (who  afterwards 
married  Mr.  Betterton),  Mrs.  Davies,  and  Mrs.  Long;  all  of 
whom  boarded  in  the  patentee's  house.  Besides  these,  were  Mrs. 
Gibbs,  Mrs.  Norris,  Mrs.  Holden,  and  Mrs.  Jennings ;  and,  if 
any  dependauce  may  be  placed  on  the  judgment  of  those  who  then 
frequented  plays,  there  were  more  eioellent  performers  in  each 


INTRODUCTION.  iri* 

company  than  have  ever  been  seen  together  at  any  one  time  eiac* 
that  period. 

The  avidity  of  the  public  for  theatrical  entertainments  suffi- 
ciently recompensed,  for  a  considerable  time,  the  assiduity  of  the 
performers,  and  the  expectations  of  the  managers  and  proprietors. 
Their  success  was,  however,  soon  interrupted  by  national  calami- 
ties. In  l66o,  the  plague  broke  out  in  London  with  great  vio- 
lence ;  and  in  the  succeeding  year,  the  fire,  which  destroyed  the 
metropolis,  put  a  stop  to  the  further  progress  of  stage-per- 
formances. 

After  a  discontinuance  of  eighteen  months,  both  houses  were 
again  opened  at  Christmas  1666.  The  miseries  occasioned  by  the 
plague  and  fire  were  forgotten,  and  public  diversions  were  again 
followed  with  as  much  eagerness  as  they  had  been  before  their 
interruption.  Both  dompanies  were  at  first  successful ;  but  after 
the  novelty  of  the  several  performers  was  worn  away,  and  their 
stock  of  plays  had  been  repeated  until  they  became  familiar,  the 
J )uke's  company,  excellent  as  they  were  allowed  to  be,  felt  their 
inferiority  by  the  slender  audiences  they  were  able  to  draw  toge- 
ther. This  consideration  induced  Sir  William  Davenant  to  try 
the  effects  of  a  new  Theatre,  built  with  greater  magnilieence  than 
that  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  and  he  chose  Dorset  Garden,  probably 
where  the  old  playhouse  in  Salisbury  Court  stood,  as  a  proper 
place  for  the  purpose ;  but  before  this  Theatre  w  as  finished  he 
died  ;  and  on  that  event  the  management  of  his  property  therein 
came  into  the  hands  of  his  widow  Lady  Davenant,  Mr.  Betterton, 
and  Mr.  Harris,  assisted  by  Charles  Davenant,  afterwards  well 
known  as  a  politician  and  civil  lawyer.  This  new  house  wa* 
opened  in  November  l6/l>  notwithstanding  an  opposition  made 
to  it  by  the  city  of  London.  But  the  opinion  of  the  public  still 
inclining  to  the  King's  company,  Mr.  Davenant  was  obliged  to 
have  recourse  to  a  new  species  of  entertainment.  He  determined 
to  call  in  the  assistance  of  show  and  sound ;  he  increased  the 
splendour  of  his  scenery,  and  introduced  music,  singing,  and 
dancing,  into  some  of  the  pieces  represented.  Dramatic  operas, 
with  expensive  decorations,  soon  came  into  fashion,  and  enabled 
the  Duke's  company  to  obtain  an  advantage  over  their  competi- 
tors, which  they  were  confessedly  not  entitled  to  by  their  merit. 

Soon  after  the  Duke's  company  began  to  act  in  their  new 
Theatre,  an  accident  happened,  which  must  have  disabled  their 
antagonists  from  contending  with  them  for  a  short  time.  In 
January  l6~  1-2,  the  playhouse  in  Drury  Lane  took  fire,  and  was 
entirely  demolished.  The  violence  of  the  conflagration  was  so 
great,  that  between  fifty  and  sixty  adjoining  houses  were  burnt 
or  blown  up. 

Whither  the  company  belonging  to  this  house  removed,  we 


sxiv  INTRODUCTION. 

have  not  been  able  to  discover,  though  we  find  they  continued 
to  act  in  the  several  years  which  intervened  between  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  old  house  and  its  being  rebuilt;  and  from  the  series  of 
plays  which  they  produced,  it  seems  probable  that  they  im- 
mediately occupied  some  Theatre  winch  then  remained  unused. 
'1  he  proprietors  of  the  old  playhouse,  after  they  had  recovered 
from  the  consternation  which  diis  accident  had  thrown  them  into, 
resolved  to  rebuild  then-  rJ  heatre,  with  such  improvements  as 
might  be  suggested;  and  for  that  purpose  employed  Sir  Christo- 
pher Wren,  the  most  celebrated  architect  of  his  time,  to  draw  the 
design,  and  superintend  the  execution  of  it.  The  plan  which  he 
produced,  in  the  opinion  of  those  who  were  well  able  to  judge  of 
it,  was  such  a  one  as  was  alike  calculated  for  the  advantage  of  the 
performers  and  spectatois;  and  the  several  alterations  afterwards 
made  in  it,  so  far  from  being  improvements,  contributed  only  to 
defeat  the  intention  of  the  architect,  and  to  spoil  the  building. 

The  new  Theatre,  being  finished,  was  opened  on  the  26th  of 
March  lf)74.  On  this  occasion  a  prologue  and  epilogue  were 
delivered,  both  written  by  Mr.  Dryden,  in  which  the  plainness 
and  want  of  ornament  in  the  house,  compared  with  that  in  Dorset 
Gardens,  were  particularly  mentioned.  The  encouragement  given 
to  the  latter,  on  account  of  its  scenery  and  decorations,  was  not 
forgotten;  and  as  an  apology  for  the  deficiency  of  embellishment, 
which  was  to  be  found  in  the  former,  the  direction  of  His  Majesty 
is  expressly  asserted.  That  the  concerns  of  the  stage  were  some- 
times thought  not  unworthy  the  notice  of  royalty,  is  very  well 
known. 

The  preference  given  to  Davenant's  Theatre,  on  account  of  its 
scenery  and  decorations,  alarmed  those  belonging  to  the  rival  house. 
To  stop  the  progress  of  the  public  taste,  and  to  divert  it  towards 
themselves,  they  endeavoured  to  ridicule  the  performances  which 
were  so  much  followed.  The  person  employed  for  this  purpose 
was  Thomas  Duffet,  who  parodied  The  'Tempest,  Macbeth,  and 
Psyche:  these  efforts  were,  however,  ineffectual.  The  Duke's 
Theatre  continued  to  be  frequented  ;  the  victory  of  sound  and 
show  over  sense  and  reason  was  as  complete  in  the  Theatre  at  this 
period  as  it  hath  often  been  since.  The  King's  1  heatre  languished; 
but  the  great  expenses  incurred  at  the  other  diminished  their  gains 
to  such  a  degree,  that  after  a  few  years  the  leaders  in  each  disco- 
vered lhat  it  would  be  for  their  mutual  advantage  to  unite  their 
interests  together,  and  open  but  one  house.  Of  those  who  ori- 
ginally belonged  to  Killigrew's  company,  several  had  quitted  the 
stage,  some  were  dead,  and  the  chief  who  remained  began  to  ex- 
perience the  infirmities  of  age.  These  considerations  induced 
them  to  listen  to  overtures  from  Davenant,  Betterton,  and  Smith, 
mho  entered  into  an  agreement  with  Hart  and  Kynaston,  which 


INTRODUCTION.  xx¥ 

effectually  detached  those  performers  from  the  King's  Theatre. 
Their  revolt,  and  the  influence  which  they  possessed,  seem  to 
have  effected  the  union  sooner  than  it  otherwise  might  have  been 
agreed  to,  though  it  could  not  have  been  prevented  any  length  of 
time,  having  been  recommended  by  the  King.  The  junction  took 
place  in  the  year  l68c2;  on  which  event  the  Duke's  company 
quitted  Dorset  Gardens,  and  removed  to  Druiy  Lane.  Hart  per- 
formed no  more,  but  retired  on  a  pension  ;  and  Mohun  soon  after- 
wards died.  The  remainder  of  the  troop  were  incorporated  with 
the  Duke's,  and  thenceforth  were  styled  the  King's  company. 

The  advantages  which  were  expected  to  follow  this  junction  do 
not  appear  to  have  been  the  consequence  of  it.  Though  the 
patents  were  united,  the  profits  to  the  proprietors  and  performers 
seem  not  to  have  been  increased.  The  old  patentees  either  sold 
their  authority  to  new  adventurers,  or  relinquished  all  their  atten- 
tion to  the  management.  On  the  30th  of  August  16S7,  Mr. 
Charles  Davenant  assigned  his  patent  to  Alexander  Davenant,  Esq. 
who,  on  the  24th  of  March  \f)Q0,  sold  his  interest  therein  to 
Christopher  Rich,  a  lawyer,  whose  name  is  often  to  be  found  in 
the  future  annals  of  the  llieatre.  This  gentleman,  who  was  not 
possessed  of  abilities  calculated  to  make  the  stage  flourish  under 
his  administration,  soon  contrived  to  engross  the  whole  power 
into  his  own  hands.  By  various  instances  of  mismanagement,  he 
alienated  the  affections  of  the  principal  performers  from  him,  and 
by  wanton  oppressions  provoked  them  to  attempt  their  deliverance 
from  the  tyranny  he  exercised  over  them.  An  association  of  the 
actors  was  entered  into,  with  Betterton  at  the  head  of  it.  Their 
complaint,  by  means  of  the  Earl  of  Dorset,  was  laid  before  King 
William,  and  was  considered  of  sufficient  importance  to  engage 
the  attention  of  His  Majesty.  The  principal  lawyers  at  that 
period  were  consulted,  who  agreed  that  the  grants  from  King 
Charles  to  Killigrew  and  Davenant  did  not  preclude  the  reigning 
prince  from  giving  a  similar  authority  to  any  person  with  whom 
he  might  choose  to  intrust  it.  In  consequence  of  this  opinion,  a 
license  was  granted  to  a  select  number  of  the  players,  to  act  in  a 
separate  Theatre  for  themselves. 

This  favour  being  obtained,  a  subscription  was  set  on  foot  for 
building  a  new  Theatre  within  the  walls  of  the  Tennis  Court,  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  The  people  of  quality,  to  show  their  sense 
of  the  ill  treatment  which  the  actors  had  received,  contributed 
very  liberally  for  this  purpose.  The  patentees  became  sensible  of 
the  folly  of  their  conduct,  and,  to  repair  the  mischief  they  had 
done  themselves,  endeavoured  to  retain  as  many  of  the  actors  as 
they  could  engage.  To  supply  the  places  of  some  who  had  left 
them,  they  brought  a  few  new  performers  from  the  companies  in. 

vol.  i.  c 


xxvi  INTRODUCTION. 

the  country,  and  made  the  best  disposition  they  were  able  to 
encounter  their  enemies. 

The  Theatre  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  was  opened  on  the 
30th  of  April  169j,  with  the  new  comedy  of  Love  for 
Love,  which  was  acted  with  extraordinary  success  during  the 
remainder  of  the  season.  1  he  new  adventurers,  however, 
met  with  an  opposition  from  a  quarter  where  it  was  not  ex- 
pected. A  number  of  the  inhabitants  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 
finding  themselves  incommoded  by  the  concourse  of  coaches 
which  the  playhouse  drew  together,  had  recourse  to  the  law,  to 
remedy  the  inconveniences  they  suffered.  In  Trinity  Term,  they 
moved  the  Court  of  King's  Bench  for  a  prohibition  to  restrain  the 
company  from  acting  any  longer  at  the  new  house ;  and  a  rule  be- 
ing granted,  cause  was  shown  against  it  in  the  succeeding  term, 
when  further  time  was  allowed  to  each  party  to  come  before  the 
court  more  fully  prepared  to  support  and  invalidate  their  several 
suggestions.  The  event  of  this  lawsuit  can  only  be  conjectured 
from  the  company's  being  permitted  to  act  until  their  removal  to 
the  Haymarket. 

The  prosperity  of  the  new  house  was  of  no  long  continuance. 
After  one  or  two  years  success,  the  audiences  began  to  decline, 
and  it  was  found  that  two  rival  Theatres  were  more  than  the  town 
was  able  to  support.  The  old  house  suffered  all  the  distresses 
which  obstinacy  and  ignorance  in  a  manager,  at  the  head  of  a  raw 
unexperienced  set  of  actors,  could  produce.  Having  little  judg- 
ment to  direct  him  in  the  conduct  of  a  Theatre,  he  not  only 
permitted  the  best  plays  to  be  mangled  by  the  most  despicable 
performers,  but,  by  the  introduction  of  tumblers  and  buffoons,  and 
other  extravagances,  brought  the  entertainments  of  the  stage  to  the 
lowest  degree  of  contempt.  He  persisted,  however,  to  the  last 
in  the  same  mode  of  conduct,  which  his  son  afterwards  followed, 
and  by  that  means  had  a  greater  influence  on  the  present  public 
entertainments  than  at  first  sight  would  be  thought  probable. 

While  the  rival  Theatres  were  contending  against  each  other 
with  inveterate  malice,  an  enemy  to  the  very  toleration  of  dramatic 
entertainments  appeared,  who,  with  considerable  ability,  and  with 
all  the  rigid  puritanical  maxims  of  a  severe  sect,  attacked  the  stage 
on  account  of  its  profaneness  and  immorality.  This  was  the  ce- 
lebrated  Jeremy  Collier,  who,  in  \6{)7,  published  a  book,  con- 
taining a  severe  invective  against  the  acting  of  plays,  the  profligacy 
of  the  performers,  and  the  licentiousness  of  the  poets  ;  and  having 
some  truth  and  justice  on  his  side,  the  advocates  for  the  1  heatre 
found  themselves  hard  pressed  to  answer  the  charges  brought 
against  their  favourite  diversion.  It  cannot  be  denied  but  that 
many  authors,  and  some  in  great  favour  with  the  public,  had 
written  hi  a  manner  which  warranted  the  censure  of  every  person 


INTRODUCTION.  xxvii 

Who  professed  the  least  regard  to  propriety  or  decency.  Mr. 
Collier  was  opposed  by  Congreve,  Vanbrugh,  Dryden,  Dennis, 
and  others,  with  wit  and  humour,  but  without  confuting  the 
objections  which  had  been  started,  either  against  themselves  indi- 
vidually, or  against  the  stage  in  general.  The  public  opinion  ran 
so  a  u  qs(  the  defenders  of  the  Theatre,  and  in  favour  of  their 

enemy,  that  King  William  considered  Mr.  Collier's  book  as  a 
work  which  entitled  the  author  of  it  to  some  lenity  in  a  prosecu- 
tion then  carrying  on  in  consequence  of  errors  in  his  political  con- 
duct. This  controversy  produced  as  much  as  could  be  wished  for 
from  it.  Air.  Gbber  observes,  the  calling  our  dramatic  writers 
to  tins  strict  account  "  had  a  very  wholesome  effect  upon  those 
"  who  writ  after  this  time.  They  were  now  a  git  at  deal  more 
"  upon  their  guard;  indecencies  were  no  longer  wit;  aid  by  de- 
"  grees  the  fair  sex  came  again  to  fill  the  boxes  on  the  first  day  of 
"  anew  comedy,  without  fear  or  censure." 

To  forward  the  stage's  reformation,  prosecutions  were  com- 
menced against  some  of  the  performers  for  repeating  profane  and 
indecent  words.  Several  were  found  guilty;  and  Betterton  and 
Mrs.  Bracegirdle  were  actually  fined.  These  severities  were  not 
entirely  thrown  away.  From  this  period  may  be  dated  the  intro- 
duction of  that  more  refined  taste,  which  hath  done  so  much  credit 
to  the  British  Theatre. 

The  managers,  acting  under  the  united  patents,  had  hitherto 
made  use  of  both  the  Theatres  in  Dorset  Garden  and  Drury  Lane; 
but  about  this  time  the  former  of  these  houses  was  deserted.  The 
company  which  had  been  left  by  Betterton  and  his  party,  after 
struggling  with  unequal  force  against  the  excellent  performers 
who  listed  under  the  banner  of  that  respectable  veteran,  began 
now  to  remove  the  prejudices  which  had  been  entertained  against 
them,  and  to  claim  their  share  of  applause.  Many  of  them  were 
much  improved.     They  had  ;e  of  youth;  and  having 

had  the  opportunity  of  exhibiting  themselves  in  new  characters, 
where  comparisons  to  their  disadvantage  could  not  be  made,  they 
began  to  be  viewed  in  a  more  favourable  light.  In  the  mean  time, 
Betterton  and  some  of  his  associates  were  daily  losing  ground, 
through  old  age.  Their  system  of  management,  which  had  been 
hastily  settled,  deprived  their  principal  friend  of  that  authority 
which  is  necessary  for  the  person  who  undertakes  to  govern  any 
body  of  people,  and  especially  those  who  belong  to  a  Theatre. 
The  house  itself  was  too  small,  and  poorly  fitted  up  ;  in  short, 
very  insufficient  for  the  purposes  of  profit  or  splendour.  These 
considerations  induced  Sir  John  Vanbrugh  to  procure  subscrip- 
tions for  erecting  a  new  and  magnificent  playhouse  in  the  Hay- 
market,  calculated  to  do  honour  to  the  architect  and  to  the  nation, 
and  at  the  same  time  produce  wealth  to  those  who  were  con- 

c  2 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION. 

cefned  in  it.     The  sum  of  3000/.  was  immediately  raised,  and  the 
building  begun  under  Sir  John's  direction. 

On  this  scheme  being  proposed,  it  was  agreed  that  Mr.  Better- 
ton  should  assign  over  to  Vanbrugh  his  license  to  perform,  and  for 
the  future  serve  only  as  an  actor,  without  any  concern  in  the  conduct 
or  direction  of  the  Theatre.  The  proposal  was  readily  assented  to  on 
the  part  of  Betterton.     He  had  now  been  upon  the  stage  between 
forty  and  fifty  years,  and  found  the  infirmities  of  age  beginning  to 
make  inroads  upon  his  constitution.     He  was  therefore  desirous 
of  repose,  and  to  be  relieved  from  the  fatigues  of  management. 
In  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1704,  he  performed  his  part  of  the 
agreement,  by  surrendering  to  Sir  John  Vanbrugh  all  his  right  and 
interest  in  the  license  granted  to  him.     The  new  proprietor  asso- 
ciated himself  with  Mr.  Congreve,  and,  from  the  joint  abilities  of 
such  excellent  writers,  great  expectations  were  formed.     On  the 
9th  of  April  1705,  the  Theatre  was  opened  with  an  Italian  opera, 
which  did  not  meet   with  the  success  expected  from  it.     The 
failure  of  their  first  hope  obliged  the  principal  manager  to  exert 
himself;  and  he  accordingly,  with  that  happy  facility  which  ac- 
companied him  in  writing,  immediately  produced  no  less  than  four 
new  pieces.     But  these  were  insufficient  to  bring  the  Theatre  into 
reputation.     It  was  soon  found,  that  the  architect  of  it  was  better 
qualified  to  support  the  stage  by  his  writings  than  to  construct 
houses  to  act  his  performances  in.     Every  piece  represented  ap- 
peared  under   manifest  disadvantage.      The   edifice  was  a  vast 
triumphal  piece  of  architecture,  wholly  unfit  for  every  purpose  of 
convenience ;  the  massy  columns,  the  gilded  cornices,  and  lofty 
roofs,  availed  very  little,  when  scarcely  one  word  in  ten  could  be 
distinctly  heard,  for  it  had  not  then  the  form  it  has  now.     "  At 
"  the  first  opening  it,"  says  Mr.  Gibber,  "  the  flat  ceiling,  that  is 
"  now  over  the  orchestre,  was  then  a  semi-oval  arch,  that  sprung 
"  fifteen  feet  higher  from  above  the  cornice.     The  ceiling  over  the 
u  pit  too  was  still  more  raised,   being  one  level  line  from  the 
u  highest  back  part  of  the  upper  gallery  to  the  front  of  the  stage ; 
"  the  front  boxes  were  a  continued  semicircle  to  the  bare  walls  of 
"  the  house  on  each  side  :  this  extraordinary  and  superfluous  space 
"  occasioned  such  an  undulation  from  the  voice  of  every  actor, 
"  that  generally  what  they  said  sounded  like  the  gabbling  of  so  many 
lt  people  in  the    lofty  aisles  in  a  cathedral.      The   tone  of    a 
"  trumpet,  or  the  swell  of  an  eunuch's  holding  note,  't  is  true, 
u  might  be  sweetened  by  it ;  but  the  articulate  sounds  of  a  speak- 
"  ing  voice  were  drowned  by  the  hollow  reverberations  of  one 
"  word    under   another."      To  these  disadvantages  the   situation 
might  be  added  ;  it  had  not  at  that  time  the  benefit  of  a  large  city, 
which  hath  since  been  built  in  its  neighbourhood,  and  it  was  too 
remote  from  the  then  frequenters  of  the  Theatre  to  be  much  attended 


INTRODUCTION.  xxix 

by  them.  All  these  circumstances  uniting  together,  afforded  so  little 
prospect  of  profit  or  success,  that,  in  a  few  months,  Mr.  Congreve 
gave  up  his  share  and  interest  wholly  to  Sir  John  Vanbrugh  ;  who, 
at  the  end  of  the  second  season,  either  rinding  the  gains  which 
arose  from  the  management  too  few,  or  the  trouble  arising  from 
his  attendance  on  it  too  much,  grew  also  disgusted  with  his  situa- 
tion, and  wished  to  be  relieved  from  it.  But  of  so  little  value  was 
the  Theatre  considered  at  that  juncture,  that  no  person  thought  it 
of  consequence  enough  to  apply  for  it.  At  length  it  was  offered 
to  Mr.  Owen  Mac  Swiny,  a  mere  adventurer,  without  property, 
who  had  been  employed  by  Mr.  Rich  as  under-manager,  and 
who,  with  the  concurrence  of  his  principal,  agreed  for  it  at  the 
rate  of  five  pounds  for  every  acting  day,  and  not  to  exceed  700/. 
in  the  year.  The  new  manager  entered  upon  his  undertaking  in 
the  latter  part  of  the  year  170(),  and  at  the  end  of  the  first  season 
found  that  he  had  considerably  improved  his  fortune. 

From  the  time  that  Mr.  Rich  got  possession  of  Dairy  Lane 
Theatre,  he  had  paid  no  regard  to  the  property  of  any  of  the 
parties  who  had  joint  interests  with  him,  but  proceeded  as  though  he 
was  sole  proprietor  of  it.  Whatever  lie  received  he  kept  to  him- 
self, without  accounting  to  any  of"  his  partners ;  and  he  had  con- 
tinued this  mode  of  conduct  so  long,  that  those  who  had  any 
claims  on  the  Theatre  abandoned  them,  in  despair  of  ever  receiv- 
ing any  advantage  from  them.  The  concerns  of  the  playhouse 
were  thought  of  so  little  worth,  that  about  this  time  Sir  Thomas 
Skipwith,  who,  Gibber  says,  had  an  equal  right  with  Rich,  in  a 
frolic,  made  a  present  of  his  share  to  Colonel  Brett,  a  gentleman 
of  fortune,  who  soon  after  forced  himself  into  the  management, 
much  against  the  inclination  of  his  partner.  The  ill  effect  of  two 
playhouses  being  open  at  once,  in  point  of  profit,  appeared  so 
evident  to  Mr.  Brett,  that  the  first  object  he  dedicated  his  atten- 
tion to  was  a  reunion  of  the  two  companies ,  and  through  the 
interposition  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  he  effected  it  in  the  year 
1708.  It  was  then  resolved,  that  the  Theatre  in  the  Haymarket 
shouid  be  appropriated  to  Italian  operas,  and  that  in  Drury  Lane 
to  plays.  The  one  was  given  to  Swiny,  and  the  other  continued 
with  Rich  and  Brett;  the  latter  of  whom,  conducting  the  business 
of  it  in  a  different  manner  from  what  it  had  heretofore  been, 
brought  it  once  more  into  so  good  a  state,  that  Sir  Thomas 
Skipwith  repented  of  his  generosity,  and  applied  to  the  Court  of 
Chancery  to  have  the  property  he  had  given  away  restored  to  him. 
Colonel  Brett,  offended  at  this  treatment,  relinquished  his  claim  ; 
and  Mr.  Rich  again  possessed  himself  of  all  the  powers  of  the 
patent. 

Instead  of  being  warned,  by  the  experience  of  past  times,  to 
avoid  the  difficulties  which  a  tyrannical  and  oppressive  behaviour 

C  o 


xxx  INTRODUCTION. 

to  the  performers  had  created,  the  acting;  manager  resumed  his 
former  conduct,  without  fearing  or  apprehending  any  resistance  to 
his  measures.  An  application  to  the  Lord  Chamberlain  was  the 
consequence;  and  that  officer,  who  was  supposed  to  possess  both 

an  absolute  and  undefinable  authority  over  the  stage,  agreed  to 
permit  as  many  of  the  actors  as  chose  to  engage  with  Swiny  to 
desert  from  Drury  Lane,  and  act  at  the  Haymarket.  A  private 
treaty  was  accordingly  entered  into;  and  Wilks,  Dogget,  and 
Cibber,  were  proposed  to  be  managers  and  joint-sharers  with 
Swiny  in  conducting  the  Theatre,  which  for  the  future  was  to  be 
used  both  as  a  play-house  and  an  op.  ra-house.  After  all  the  prelimi- 
naries were  settled,  the  Lord  Chamberlain  issued  an  order,  dated 
7th  of  June  170;),  forbidding  the  patentees  to  perform  any  longer; 
on  which  the  house  was  shut  up. 

The  deserters  immediately  began  to  alter  the  Haymarket 
Theatre,  in  order  to  obviate  the  inconveniences  of  its  original  con- 
struction,  and  make  it  fit  for  the  representation  of  dramatic  per- 
formances. They  began  to  act  in  the  winter  of  170y;  and 
their  audiences  so  much  exceeded  their  expectations,  that  they 
would  have  had  every  reason  to  be  content  with  the  change  which 
had  happened,  if  the  direction  of  the  operas,  which  this  season 
began  to  decline,  had  not  greatly  diminished  their  profits.  On  the 
whole,  however,  they  appear  to  have  received  more  than  they  had 
done  at  Drury  Lane,'  and  therefore  were  not  dissatisfied  with  their 
emancipation  from  the  authority  of  their  former  governor. 

Ihe  power  of  the  Chamberlain  had  always  been  implicitly 
acknowledged.  Those  therefore  who  had  any  concern  in  the  in- 
terdicted Theatre  patiently  submitted  to  the  prohibition,  and  had 
recourse  only  to  supplications  in  order  to  procure  a  revocation  of 
the  silencing  order.  As  it  was  put  in  execution  so  late  in  the  sea- 
son, no  immediate  detriment  ensued;  and  it  was  generally  ex- 
pected, that,  as  the  time  of  acting  approached  in  the  following 
winter,  the  proprietors  would  be  permitted  to  open  their  house. 
The  summer  was  taken  up  in  petitions  to  the  Chamberlain,  and 
appeals  to  the  Queen's  jus! ice  arid  humanity,  both  from  the  pa- 
tentees and  players.  The  applications,  however,  were  not  crowned 
with  success ;  the  order  was  still  continued  in  force,  and  at  the 
beginning  of  die  season  one  Theatre  only  was  employed. 

As  soon  as  it  appeared  with  certainty  that  the  old  manager 
would  not  be  able  to  obtain  a  recall  of  the  order -for  silenci  ig  the 
patent,  one  who  had  some  property  in  the  house,  and  who  had 
joined  in  ail  the  applications  to  i  i  Sieved  against  the  Chamber- 
lain's mandate,  determined  to  avail  himself  of  his  interest  at  court, 
and  profit  by  the  distress  of  his  partners.  This  was  William  Col- 
lier, Esq.  a  lawyer,  of  an  enterprising  head  and  a  jovial  heart. 
lie  was  a  member  of  Parliament,  and  by  his  convivial  qualities 
»  ■  ■ 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxi 

had  become  a  favourite  with  the  people  then  in  power,  and  was 
often  admitted  to  partake  with  them  in  those  detached  hours  of 
life  when  business  was  to  give  way  to  pleasure. 

This  gentleman,  observing  the  situation  of  theatrical  affairs  to 
be  desperate  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Rich,  applied  for  and  obtained  a 
license  to  take  the  management  of  the  company  left  at  Drury 
Lane.  The  late  patentee,  who  still  continued  in  the  Theatre, 
though  without  the  power  of  using  it,  was  not  to  be  removed 
without  compulsion.  Mr.  Collier,  therefore,  procured  a  lease  of 
the  house  from  the  landlords  of  it,  and,  armed  with  this  authority, 
took  the  advantage  of  a  rejoicing  night,  the  '2'2d  of  November, 
when,  with  a  hired  rabble,  he  broke  into  the  premises,  and  turned 
the  former  owner  out  of  possession. 

Here  ended  the  power  of  Mr.  Rich  over  the  Theatres.  After 
his  expulsion  from  Drury  Lane,  he  employed  the  remainder  of  his 
life  in  rebuilding  the  playhouse  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  which 
was  opened  about  six  weeks  alter  his  death  by  his  son,  in  the  year 
1714,  with  the  comedy  of  The  Recruiting  Officer.  Roth  this 
Theatre  and  its  manager  will  be  mentioned  hereafter. 

The  scheme  which  Mr.  Collier  had  engaged  in  did  not  prosper 
according  to  his  wishes;  the  profits  of  the  season  were  very  small, 
and  by  no  means  a  compensation  for  the  trouble,  risk,  and  ex- 
pense, which  he  had  been  at  in  seating  himself  on  the  theatrical 
throne.  'I  he  joint-sharers  at  the  Haymarket  had  acquired  both 
fame  and  money  ;  he  therefore  meditated  an  exchange  of  Theatres 
with  them,  and,  by  again  employing  his  influence  at  court,  soon 
effected  it.  By  the  agreement  which  was  then  entered  into  be- 
tween the  rival  managers,  the  sole  license  for  acting  plays  was 
vested  in  Swiny  and  his  partners ;  and  the  performance  of  operas 
was  to  be  confined  to  the  Haymarket,  under  the  direction  of 
Collier. 

The  authority  which  this  gentleman  had  now  obtained  in  the 
Opera-house,  lie  immediately  farmed  to  Aaron  Hill,  Esq.  for 
GOO/,  per  annum  ;  but  before  the  season  expired,  he  resumed  the 
management  again  into  his  own  hands.  The  flourishing  state  of 
Drury  Lane  had  attracted  his  notice  and  envy.  He  grew  again 
dissatisfied  with  his  station,  and  proposed  once  more  to  return  to 
the  stage  he  had  abandoned.  The  same  power  which  had  hitherto 
supported  him  in  his  caprices  still  continued  to  favour  him. 
Swiny  was  obliged  to  return  to  the  Haymarket;  and  Collier, 
Wiiks,.  Dogget,  and  Cibber,  remained  at  Drury  Lane,  where, 
from  this  period,  the  abilities,  industry,  and  integrity  of  the 
m  nagers,  brought  their  Theatre  into  so  much  reputation,  that  it 
became  to  them  the  source  of  independence  during  the  rest  of  their 
lives.     Qn  the  contrary,  at  the  end  of  the  first  season,  Swiny  was 

c  4 


xxxii  INTRODUCTION. 

ruined  at  the  Haymarket,  and  obliged  to  banish  himself  from  tire 
kingdom. 

As  soon  as  the  new  regulation  was  settled,  Collier  rendered  his 
share  a  sinecure,  and  agreed  to  accept  a  certain  sum  annually  in 
lieu  of  all  claims.  In  1712,  the  tragedy  of  Cotu  was  acted, 
wherein  3NIr.  Booth  acquired  so  much  reputation,  that  he  was 
encouraged  to  solicit  for  a  share  in  the  management  of  the  The- 
atre, and  was  gratified  in  it  during  the  succeeding  year.  On  his 
introduction,  Dogget,  in  disgust,  retired  from  the  management, 
to  which  he  never  afterwards  returned. 

In  the  year  1714  Queen  Anne  died:  and,  among  the  changes 
■which  that  event  brought  about,  the  management  of  Drury  Lane 
Theatre  was  not  too  inconsiderable  to  attract  the  notice  of  the 
court.  At  the  desire  of  the  acting  managers,  Sir  Richard  Steele 
procured  his  name  to  be  inserted,  instead  of  Collier's,  in  a  new 
license  jointly  with  them  ;  and  this  connexion  lasted  manv  years, 
equally  to  the  advantage  of  all  the  parties.  In  this  year,  the  pro- 
hibition, which  the  patent  had  been  long  under,  was  removed ; 
and  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  Theatre  opened  under  the  direction  of 
the  late  Mr.  John  Rich. 

No   sooner    were   dramatic   performances   permitted   at    two 
Theatres,  than  the  manager  of  the  weaker  company  was  obliged 
to  have  recourse  to  foreign  aid,  and  to  oppose  his  antagonists  with 
other  weapons  than  the  merits  of  his  actors,  or  the  excellence  of 
the  pieces  represented  by  them.    The  performers  who  were  under 
Mr.  Rich's  direction  were  so  much  inferior  to  those  at  Drury 
Lane,  that  the  latter  carried  away  all  the  applause  and  favour  of 
the  town.     In  this  distress,  the  genius  of  the  new  manager  sug- 
gested to  him  a  species  of  entertainment,  which  hath  always  been 
considered  as  contemptible,  but  which  at  the  same  time  hath  been 
ever  followed  and  encouraged.     Pantomimes  were  now  brought 
forward  ;  and,  as  sound  and  show  had  in  the  last  century  obtained 
a  victory  over  sense  and  reason,  the  same  event  would  have  fol- 
lowed again,  if  the  company  at  Drury  Lane  had  not,  from  the 
experience  of  past  times,  thought  it  ad\isable  to  adopt  the  same 
measures.     rIhe  fertility  of  Mr.  Rich's  invention  in  these  exotic 
entertainments,  and  the  excellence  of  his  own  performance   in 
them,  must  be  ever  acknov.  ledged.     By  means  of  these  only,  he 
kept  the  managers  of  the  other  house  at  all  times  from  relaxing 
their  diligence;  and,  to  the  disgrace  of  public  taste,  fiequently 
obtained  more  money  by  such  ridiculous  and  paltry  performances, 
than  all  the  sterling  merit  of  the  rival  I  heatre  was  able  to  acquire. 
The  business  of  the  stage  was  carried  on  successfully,  and  with- 
out  interruption,  until  about  the  year  1720;  when  on  a  disgust 
which  the  Duke  of  Ntw  castle,  then  Lord  Chamberlain,  had  re- 
ceived from  Mr.  Cibber,  that  gentleman  was  for  some  time  for~ 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxiii 

bidden  to  perform  ;  and  soon  after  a  difference  arising  between 
the  same  nobleman  and  Sir  Richard  Steele,  the  power  which  had 
been  often  exercised  by  the  persons  who  had  held  his  Grace's 
office  was  exerted,  and  an  order  of  silence  was  enforced  as 
the  managers.  On  this  occasion  a  controversy  succeeded ;  but 
how  long  the  prohibition  lasted,  or  in  what  manner  the  difference 
was  adjusted,  no  where  appears. 

In  this  year  17-0,  a  new  playhouse  was  erected  in  the  Hay- 
market,  by  one  Mr.  Potter,  a  carpenter.  It  was  not  built  for  any 
particular  person  or  company,  but  seems  to  have  been  intended  as 
a  mere  speculation  by  the  architect,  who  relied  on  its  being  occa- 
sionally hired  for  dramatic  exhibitions. 

The  harmony  which  had  subsisted  for  many  years  between  Sir 
Richard  Steele  and  his  partners  was  soon  afterwards  interrupted, 
and  the  affairs  of  the  Theatre  became  again  the  objects  of  a 
Chancery  litigation,  which,  in  1726",  was  determined  in  favour 
of  the  acting  proprietors  by  a  decree  of  Sir  Joseph  Jekyll,  then 
Master  of  the  Rolls.  lhe  breath,  however,  which  this  dispute 
had  made  would  perhaps  never  have  been  healed,  had  Sir  Richard 
been  able  to  have  resumed  his  share  of  the  management.  His 
faculties  at  this  time  began  to  decline  :  he  soon  alter  wards  retired 
into  Wales,  where  he  died  on  the  1st  of  Sept <  mber  J7f2y. 

As  the  powers  of  the  patent  granted  to  him  terminated  at  the 
end  of  three  years  after  his  death,  the  remaining  managers  soli- 
cited and  obtained  a  renewal  of  the  authority  for  twenty-one  years, 
commencing  on  the  1st  of  September  1732;  but  the  prosperous 
course  of  their  affairs  was  doomed  about  this  time  to  be  first 
checked,  and  afterwards  put  an  end  to,  by  the  illness  and  deaths 
of  the  principal  persons  concerned  in  the  Theatre.  Booth  was 
rendered  incapable  of  performing  for  several  years  before  he  died. 
On  the  33d  of  October  1730,  the  stage  suffered  an  irreparable 
loss  by  the  death  of  Mrs.  Oldheld;  and  about  the  same  time  Mrs. 
Porter  was  prevented  from  acting  by  the  misfortune  of  a  dislo- 
cated limb.  To  complete  the  whole,  Wilks  died  in  September 
1731  ;  and  Cibber,  disliking  his  new  partners,  grew  weary  of  his 
$hare,  and  took  the  earliest  opportunity  of  parting  with  it. 

The  number  of  Theatres  in  London  was  this  year  [17'29]  in- 
creased, by  the  addition  of  one  in  Goodman's  Fields,  which  met 
with  ^reat  opposition  from  many  respectable  merchants  and  ^rave 
citizens,  who  apprehended  much  mischief  from  the  introduction 
ol  these  kinds  of  diversions  so  near  to  their  own  habitations. 
Some  of  the  clerg)  also  took  the  alarm,  and  preached  with  vehe- 
mence against  it.  Mr.  Odell,  however,  the  proprietor,  was  not 
deterred  from  pursuing  his  design;  he  completed  the  building, 
and,  having  collected  a  company,  began  to  perform  in  it.  It  is 
asserted,  that  for  some  time  he  got  not  less  than  one  htiudred 


xxxiv  INTRODUCTION. 

pounds  a  week  by  this  undertaking;  but  the  clamour  against  it 
continuing,  lie  was  obliged  to  abandon  the  future  prosecution  of 
his  scheme  ;  by  which  means  he  sustained  a  considerable  loss.  It 
was  afterwards  revived  by  Mr.  Giffard  with  some  degree  of  success. 

The  pat<  nl  for  Drury  Lane  being  renewed,  Mr.  Booth,  who 
found  his  disorder  increase,  began  to  think  it  was  time  to  dispose 
of  his  share  and  interest  in  the  Theatre.  The  person  upon  whom 
he  fixed  for  a  purchaser  was  John  Highmore,  Esq.  a  gentleman  of 
fortune,  who  unhappily  had  contracted  an  attachment  to  the  stage, 
from  having  performed  the  part  of  Lothario  one  night  for  a  wager. 
A  treaty  between  them  was  set  on  foot  soon  after  Mr.  Wilks's 
death,  and  was  concluded  by  Mr.  Higbmore's  agreeing  to  pur- 
chase one  half  of  Mr.  Booth's  share,  with  the  whole  of  his  power 
in  the  management,  for  the  sum  of  two  thousand  five  hundred 
pounds.  Before  his  admission,  Mrs.  Wilks  had  deputed  Mr. 
Ellis  to  attend  to  the  conduct  of  the  Theatre  in  her  behalf.  The 
introduction  of  two  people  into  the  management,  who  were  to- 
tally unqualified  either  by  their  abilities  or  experience  for  the 
offices  they  were  to  till,  gave  offence  to  Mr.  Cibber:  he  there- 
fore, to  avoid  being  troubled  with  the  importance  of  the  one  or 
the  ignorance  of  the  other  of  his  brethren,  authorized  his  son 
Theophilus  to  act  for  him  as  far  as  his  interest  was  concerned. 
The  hist  season  was  ended  with  some  profit  to  the  patentees;  but 
Mr.  Ki^hmore,.  being  hurt  by  the  impertinence  of  young  Cibber, 
determined  to  get  rid  of  his  interference,  and  purchased  the  father's 
share  for  the  sum  of  three  thousand  guineas. 

This  second  purchase  by  Mr.  Highmore  was  made  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  season  of  1733,  about  the  same  time  that  Mrs. 
Booth  sold  her  husband's  remaining  share  to  Mr.  Giffaid.  Mr. 
Highmores  connexion  with  the  Theatre  began  now  to  be  attended 
with  alarming  consequences  to  him  ;  two  weeks  had  hardly  pa 
before  the  principal  actors,  spirited  up  by  young  Cibber,  deter- 
mined to  revolt  from  the  patentees,  and  set  up  for  themselves.  The 
house  called  the  little  Theatre  in  the  Haymarket,  was  then  un- 
occupied; they  therefore  agreed  to  rent  it  of  the  proprietor,  and, 
after  making  the  necessary  alterations,  opened  it  with  the  comedy 
of  hove  for  Love,  to  an  elegant  crowded  audience. 

The  pa;  jo,  though  weakened  by  the  desertion  of  their 

best  performers,  began  to  act  at  the  usual  time.  To  supply  the 
places  of  those  who  had  left  their  service,  they  were  obliged  to 
have  recourse  to  such/assistance  as  the  country  companies  would 
afford.  With  all  the  help  they  could  obtain,  their  performances 
were  so  much  inferior  to  those  exhibited  at  the  Haymarket,  that 
a  constant  loss  was  sustained  until  the  end  of  the  season.  Mr. 
Highmore  in  the  mean  time  buoyed  himself  up  with  hopes  of  ob- 
taining redress,  first  from  the  Laid  Chamberlain,  and  afterwards 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxv 

by  putting  the  laws  concerning  vagrants  in  force  against  the  delin- 
quent ty<  i  i.  In  both  thes-  expectations  he  found  himself  dis- 
appointed. The  looses  fell  so  heavy  upon  him,  that  he  v.  as  under 
th  necessity  of  giving  Uj.  the  contention,  in  order  to  secure  a  small 
part  of  the  property  he  had  imprudently  risked  in  this  unfortunate 
undertaking. 

The  person  who  now  succeeded  to  the  patent  of  Di  ury  Lane  play- 
house was  Charles  Fleetwood,  Esq.  a  gentleman  who  at  one'p<  riod 
of  his  life  had  possessed  a  very  large  fortune,  of  which  ;:t  ilns  time 
a  smali  portion  only  remained.  He  purchased  not  only  the  share 
belonging  to  Mr.  Highmore,  but  those  of  all  the  other  partners; 
and  so  little  value  was  then  set  upon  the  Theatre,  that  the  whole 
sum  which  he  disbursed  for  it  hardly  more  than  exceeded  the  half 
of  what  Mr.  Highmore  had  before  paid.  The  revolting  actors 
were  by  this  time  become  dissatisfied  with  their  situations.  A 
treaty  was  therefore  opened,  and  soon  concluded,  for  their  return 
to  Diury  Lane. 

Although  dramatic  entertainments  were  not  at  this  time  sup- 
ported by  the  abilities  of  any  actors  of  extraordinary  merit,  and  the 
characters  of  those  excellent  performers  who  had  lately  been  lost 
from  Ds  ury  Lane  were  very  ill  supplied,  yet  this  period  seems  to 
have  been  particularly  nun  keel  by  a  spirit  of  enterprise  which  pre- 
vailed in  theatrical  affairs.  The  ili  fortune  of  Mr.  Odell,  at 
Goodman's  Fields,  had  not  extinguished  the  expectations  of  an- 
other schemer,  who  solicited  and  obtained  a  subscription  for 
building  a  magnificent  playhouse  in  that  part  of  the  town;  and,  jn 
spite  of  all  opposition,  it  was  completed  and  opened  on  the  ^d 
day  of  October  1732,  with  the  play  of  King  Henry  IF.  Mr. 
Giffard,  the  new  proprietor,  however,  did  not  remain  long  there. 
In  1733  the  house  in  Covent  Garden  was  finished,  and  Mr.  Rich's 
company  immediately  removed  thither,  which  occasioned  the  old 
building  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  to  be  deserted.  Mr.  Giffard  was 
then  advised,  that  it  would  be  more  for  his  advantage  to  quit 
Goodman's  Fields,  and  take  the  vacant  edifice.  He  accordingly 
agreed  for  it  in  J  733,  and  acted  there  during  the  two  ensuing 
years. 

Soon  afterw ards,  though  at  a  time  when  so  many  Theatres  were 
employed  to  divert  the  public,  and  when  none  of  them  were  in  a 
flourishing  state,  the  imprudence  and  extravagance  of  a  gentleman, 
who  possessed  genius,  wit,  and  humour,  in  a  high  degree,  obliged 
h;m  to  strike  out  a  new  species  of  entertainment,  which  in  the  eud 
produced  an  extraordinary  change  in  the  constitution  of  the  dra- 
matic system.  To  extricate  himself  out  of  difficulties  in  which 
he  was  involved,  and  probably  to  revenge  some  indignities  which 
had  been  thrown  upon  him  by  people  in  power,  that  admirable 
painter  and  accurate  observer  of  life,  the  late  Henry  Fielding,  de- 


xxxvi  INTRODUCTION. 

termined  i.o  amuse  the  town  at  the  expense  of  some  persons  in 
high  rank,  and  of  great  influence  in  the  political  world  :  for  this 
purpose  he  got  together  a  company  of  performers,  who  exhibited 
at  the  Theatre  in  the  Hay  market,  under  the  whimsical  title  of  the 
Great  Mogul's  Company  of  Comedians.  The  piece  he  represented 
Mas  Pasquin,  which  was  acted  to  crowded  audiences  for  fifty  suc- 
cessive nights.  Encouraged  by  the  favourable  reception  this  per- 
formance met  with,  he  determined  to  continue  at  the  same  place 
the  next  season,  when  he  produced  several  new  plays,  some  of 
which  were  applauded,  and  the  rest  condemned.  As  soon  as  the 
novelty  of  the  design  was  over,  a  visible  difference  appeared  be- 
tween the  audiences  of  the  two  years.  The  company,  which,  as 
the  play-bills  said,  dropped  from  the  clouds,  were  disbanded  ;  and 
the  manager,  not  having  attended  to  the  voice  of  economy  in  his 
prosperity,  was  left  no  richer  nor  more  independent  than  when  he 
first  engaged  in  the  project. 

The  severity  of  Mr.  Fielding's  satire  in  these  pieces  had  galled 
the  minister  to  that  degree,  that  the  impression  was  not  erased 
from  his  mind  when  the  cause  of  it  had  lost  all  effect.  He  medi- 
tated therefore  a  severe  revenge  on  the  stage,  and  determined  to 
prevent  any  attacks  of  the  like  kind  for  the  future.  In  the  execu- 
tion of  this  plan  he  steadily  persisted  ;  and  at  last  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  seeing  the  enemy,  Avhich  had  given  him  so  much  uneasiness, 
effectually  restrained  from  any  power  of  annoying  him  on  the  public 
theatres.  An  Act  of  Parliament  passed,  in  the  year  1737?  which 
forbad  the  representation  of  any  performance  not  previously  li- 
censed by  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  or  in  any  place  except  the  city 
of  Westminster  and  the  liberties  thereof,  or  where  the  royal  family 
should  at  any  time  reside.  It  also  took  from  the  Crown  the  power 
of  licensing  any  more  Theatres,  and  inflicted  heavy  penalties  on 
those  who  should  hereafter  perform  in  defiance  of  the  regulations 
in  the  statute.  This  unpopular  act  did  not  pass  without  opposi- 
tion. It  called  forth  the  eloquence  of  Lord  Chesterfield  in  a 
speech,  wherein  all  the  arguments  in  favour  of  this  odious  law  were 
answered,  the  dangers  which  might  ensue  from  it  were  pointed  out, 
and  the  little  necessity  for  such  hostilities  against  the  stage  clearly 
demonstrated.  It  also  excited  an  alarm  in  the  people  at  large,  as 
tending  to  introduce  restraints  on  the  liberty  of  the  press.  Many 
pamphlets  were  published  against  the  principle  of  the  act ;  and  it 
was  combated  in  every  shape  in  which  wit,  ridicule,  or  argument, 
could  oppose  it.  All  these,  however,  availed  nothing ;  the  mi- 
nister had  resolved,  and  the  parliament  was  too  compliant  to  slight 
a  bill  which  came  recommended  from  so  powerful  a  quarter.  It 
therefore  passed  into  a  law,  and  freed  the  then,  and  all  future,  mi- 
nisters from  any  apprehensions  of  mischief  from  the  wit  or  malic,e 
of  dramatic  writers. 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxvii 

The  year  1741  was  rendered  remarkable  in  the  theatrical  world 
bv  the  appearance  of  an  actor,  whose  genius  seemed  intended  to 
adorn,  and  whose  abilities  were  destined  10  support,  the  stage. 
This  was  the  late  Mr.  Garrick  ;  who,  after  experiencing  some 
slights  from  the  managers  of  Drury  Lane  and  Covent  Garden, 
determined  to  make  trial  of  his  theatrical  qualifications  at  the  play- 
house in  Goodman's  Fields,  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Giffard, 
who  was  at  that  time  permitted  to  perform  there  without  molest- 
ation. The  part  he  chose  for  his  first  appearance  was  that  of 
Richard  the  Third;  in  which  he  displayed  so  clear  a  conception 
of  the  character,  such  power  of  execution,  and  a  union  of  talents  so 
varied,  exteusive,  and  unexpected,  as  soon  fixed  his  reputation  as 
the  first  actor  of  his  own  or  any  former  time.  His  fame  spread 
through  every  part  of  the  town  with  the  greatest  rapidity ;  and 
Goodman's  Fields  Theatre,  which  had  been  confined  to  the  inha- 
bitants of  the  city,  became  the  resort  of  the  polite,  and  was  ho- 
noured with  the  notice  of  all  ranks  and  orders  of  people. 

-At  Goodman's  Fields  Mr.  Garrick  remained  but  one  season  ; 
after  which  he  removed  to  Drury  Lane,  where  he  continued  to  in- 
crease  his  reputation,  and,  by  a  prudent  attention  to  the  dictates  of 
frugality  and  discretion,  acquired  a  character  which  pointed  him 
out  as  a  proper  person  to  succeed  to  the  management  of  theTheatre 
a  few  years  after;  and  a  fortune  which  enabled  him  to  accomplish 
that  point  when  the  opportunity  offered. 

The  affairs  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre  suffered  all  the  mischiefs 
which  could  arise  from  the  imprudence  or  inability  of  the  manager. 
That  gentleman  had  embarrassed  his  domestic  concerns  by  almost 
every  species  of  misconduct,  and  involved  himself  in  such  diffi- 
culties, that  there  remained  no  other  means  of  extricating  himself 
from  them  than  by  abandoning  his  country,  and  retiring  abroad. 
About  the  year  1/45  the  whole  of  his  property  in  therlheatre  was 
either  mortgaged  or  sold  ;  and  the  patent,  which  had  been  assigned 
to  some  creditors,  was  advertised  to  be  disposed  of  by  public  auc- 
tion. Two  bankers,  Messrs.  Green  and  Amber,  became  the  pur- 
chasers ;  and  they  received  into  the  management  the  late  Mr. 
Lacey,  to  whom  the  conduct  of  the  Theatre  was  relinquished. 
The  calamities  of  the  times  affected  the  credit  of  many  persons  at 
this  juncture  ;  and  among  the  rest  of  the  new  managers,  who  found 
themselves  obliged  to  stop  payment.  Their  misfortunes  occasioned 
the  patent  again  to  become  the  object  of  sale :  it  was  offered  to 
several  persons,  but  few  appeared  to  have  courage  enough  to  ven- 
ture upon  it,  even  at  the  very  low  price  then  asked  for  it.  At 
length  it  was  proposed  by  Mr.  Lacey,  that  he  and  Mr.  Garrick 
should  become  joint-purchasers.  The  offer  was  accepted.  A 
renewal  of  the  patent  was  solicited  and  obtained.  All  the  preli- 
minaries were  in  a  short  time  settled;  and,  in  the  year  1747,  the 


xl  INTRODUCTION. 

the  decency  and  propriety  of  our  present  dramatic  performances, 
will  ever  entitle  him  to  the  grateful  respect  of  the  world,  inde- 
pendent of  his  extraordinary  merit  either  as  an  actor  or  as  au  author. 
The  persons  to  whom  Mr.  Garrick  transferred  his  interest  in  the 
Theatre,  at  the  price  of  3.5,000/.  were,  Mr.  Sheridan,  a  young  gen- 
tleman who  had  already  distinguished  himself  as  the  author  of  two 
excellent  dramatic  pieces,  one  of  which,  The  Duenna,  had  been 
more  successful  than  any  recent  production  ;  Mr.  Thomas  Lin- 
lev ,  an  eminent  composer  ;  and  Dr.  Ford,  a  physician.  These 
gentlemen,  apparently  distrusting  their  abilities  for  so  new  an  un- 
dertaking, called  to  their  aid  the  experience  of  Mr.  Sheridan's 
father,  who  was  deputed  to  be  the  acting  manager.  But  this 
system,  for  reasons  which  have  not  transpired,  lasted  but  a  short 
time.  The  elder  Mr.  Sheridan  gave  up  his  post ;  and  Mr.  Lacey, 
at  about  the  same  period,  sold  his  share  of  the  Theatre  to  his  re- 
maining partners. 

The  succeeding  year  produced  a  revolution  in  the  Theatre  Royal 
in  the  Haymarket.  Mr.  Foote,  who,  after  he  had  obtained  the 
patent,  conducted  the  affairs  of  his  house  with  considerable  success, 
and  annually  acquired  a  large  income  as  proprietor  and  manager, 
was  induced  to  transfer  his  Theatre  to  Mr.  Colman,  in  consider- 
ation of  an  annuity,  and  some  particular  advantages  as  a  performer. 
The  reasons  which  prompted  him  to  take  this  step  were  supposed 
to  have  arisen  from  an  infamous  prosecution,  which  had  been  ma- 
liciously (as  was  generally  believed)  instituted  against  him.  The 
eve: it  of  his  trial  freed  him  from  the  charge;  but  the  vexation  of 
mind  winch  it  occasioned  so  much  injured  his  health,  that  it  pro- 
bably contributed  to  shorten  his  life.  He  died  at  Dover,  on  his 
way  to  the  Continent,  the  Cist  day  of  October  1777- 

Notwithstanding  Mr.  Garrick  had  quitted  the  theatre  as  ma- 
nager and  performer,  he  did  not  entirely  relinquish  his  attention  to 
the  stage ;  he  continued  to  assist  some  authors  and  actors,  and 
promoted  the  advantage  of  the  new  patentees  occasionally  with  his 
advice  and  assistance.  The  loss  of  a  man  who  had  taken  so  con- 
siderable a  part  in  the  dramatic  line  for  such  a  number  of  years, 
cannot  but  be  esteemed  as  an  epocha  in  the  annals  of  the  stage. 
He  died  on  the  '20th  January  1779  ;  and  went  to  the  grave  with 
the  universal  admiration  of  the  public  at  large,  and  with  the  par- 
ticular concern  of  his  numerous  friends  and  connexions. 

The  first  season  of  Mr.  Col  man's  management  at  the  Haymarket 
Theatre  [1777]  introduced  to  a  London  audience  three  performers 
of  great  merit,  in  their  respective  departments  of  the  drama ;  and 
to  whom  the  metropolis  was  long  afterwards  indebted  for  much 
theatrical  amusement:  we  mean  Miss  Farren  (now  Countess  of 
Derby),  Mr.  Henderson,  and  Mr.  Edwin;  the  former  of  whom 
afterwards  became  an  invaluable  adjunct  to  Drury  Lane,  and  the, 


INTRODUCTION.  x« 

two  latter  to  Covent  Garden  Theatres.  On  the  27  th  of  August 
1778,  Mr.  Bannister,  jun.  made  his  first  appearance  on  any  stage, 
at  the  Haymarket,  as  Dick  in  The  Apprentice,  for  his  father's  be- 
nefit. He  was  engaged  the  following  season  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre,  under  the  tuition  of  Mr.  Garrick,  as  a  tragedian,  and 
was  a  pretty  successful  representative  of  Zaphna,  Hamlet,  Romeo, 
Sec.  &.<:.:  the  true  bent  of  his  genius,  however,  was  developed  in 
the  following  year,  by  his  performance  of  Don  Ferolo  Whisker- 
andos,  in  The  Critic ;  and  the  buskin  he  soon  laid  aside  for  the 
sock. 

On  the  12th  of  October  17  82,  burst  upon  the  town  a  theatrical 
star  of  the  first  magnitude — Mrs.  Siddons,  from  Bath,  who  ap- 
peared at  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  in  the  character  of  Isabella.  The 
excellence  of  her  performance  was  acknowledged  and  applauded 
by  every  person  iu  the  house  ;  but  the  surest  test  of  its  merit  was, 
the  universal  sympathy  of  the  spectators  in  the  distresses  of  the 
heroine ;  evinced,  not  only  by  copious  streams  of  tears,  but 
several  ladies  were  actually  thrown  into  tits  by  the  "  cunning  of 
u  the  scene."  Her  fame  was  at  once  established  as  the  first  tra- 
gedian in  Europe  ;  and  the  numerous  characters  which  she  suc- 
cessively added  to  that  of  Isabella,  fully  justified  the  award  of  a 
discerning  public.  From  the  gentlemen  of  the  bar  Mrs.  Siddons 
received,  by  the  hands  of  Messrs.  Pigot  and  Fielding,  a  purse  of 
a  hundred  guineas,  accompanied  with  a  very  polite  letter,  declaring 
their  high  admiration  of  her  talents. 

The  30th  of  September,  in  the  following  year,  introduced  at 
the  same  theatre  her  accomplished  brother,  Mr.  John  Philip 
Kemble,  from  the  Theatre  Royal  of  Dublin  :  the  part  which  he 
chose  for  his  debut  was  Hamlet ;  and  a  more  finished  picture  had 
certainly  not  been  exhibited  on  the  stage  since  the  best  days  of 
Garrick. 

On  the  CM  of  October  the  Covent  Garden  Company  derived  an- 
other valuable  accession  in  a  different  department  of  the  drama,  in 
the  person  of  Mr.  John  Johnstone,  from  Dublin,  who  made  his  first 
appearance  as  the  hero  in  the  comic  opera  of  Lionet  and  Clarissa. 
For  some  time  Mr.  Johnstone  continued  to  be  the  leading  singer  in 
operatic  pieces ;  but  at  length  he  discovered  such  extraordinary  merit 
in  the  humorous,  yet  chaste  and  correct,  representation  of  Irish 
characters,  that  he  very  soon  appropriated  that  species  of  acting, 
in  which  he  has  not  at  the  present  day  his  equal  in  the  kingdom. 

On  the  24th  of  May  1785,  Mrs.  Bellamy  took  her  leave  of  the 
stage;  the  managers  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre  having  generously 
granted  her  a  benefit.  The  play  was  Braganza  ;  and  Mrs,  Yates, 
who  had  retired  from  the  profession,  stepped  forward  to  aki  die 
unfortunate  lady,  by  her  performance  of  the  Dutchess,  in  which 
she  was  inimitable.     At  the  end  of  the  tragedy  Miss  Farren  spok^ 


xlii  INTRODUCTION, 

a  poetical  address  %  iu-behalf  of  Mrs.  Bellamy,  wbicii  eaucluded. 
\\ ith  these  lines: 

"  But  see,  oppress'd  with  gratitude  and  tears, 
"  To  pay  her  duteous  tribute  she  appears." 

The  curtain  then  drew,  and  discovered  Mrs.  Bellamy ;  who  was 
to  have  spoken  a  few  lines  ;  but  her  powers  were  annihilated  by 
her  feelings  ;  and,  in  plain  prose,  she  expressed  herself  to  this 
effect :  "  That  she  felt  the  utmost  gratitude:  for  the  favour  of  the 
*'  house ;  that  her  professions  were  unfeigned,  and  that  her  tears 
*'  were  further  proofs  of  her  sincerity  f." 

Mrs.  Jordan's  first  appearance  in  a  London  theatre  was  at  Drury 
Lane,  on  the  18th  of  October  1785.  This  lady  came  recommended 
to  the  managers  by  Mr.  Smith,  the  comedian,  v\  ho  had  seen  her  per- 
form at  York,  and  thought  that  she  might  be  useful  to  the  theatre 
as  second  to  Mrs.  Siddons.  Mrs.  Jordan,  however,  though  pos- 
sessed of  considerable  talent  as  a  tragedian,  very  prudently  judged 
it  more  desirable  to  take  the  first  form  in  comedy  than  the  second 
in  tragedy  ;  and  she  accordingly  made  choice  of  The  Country  Girl 
for  her  d<  but ;  this  she  followed  up  soon  after  with  Pri.-cillaTomboy, 
Nell  in  The  Devil  to  Pay,  Miss  Hoyden,  Miss  Prue,  Corinna, 
&c.  ;  and  it  was  unanimously  admitted,  that  her  equal  in  that  line 
had  not  been  seen  in  a  British  theatre  since  the  retirement  of  Mrs. 
Clive. 

On  the  25th  of  November  in  this  year,  the  stage  sustained  a 
\ery  severe  loss  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Henderson,  who  had  obtained 
the  first  honours  of  his  profession  under  disadvantages  which  no-, 
thing  but  very  superior  talents  could  have  overcome.  His  person 
was  not  striking,  nor  were  his  features  interesting.  He  had  no- 
thing in  his  appearance  to  create,  at  first  sight,  that  surprise  and 
admiration  which  conciliate  favour  and  prejudice  judgment.  His 
excellencies  were  of  the  most  solid  kind  ;  they  depended  on  a 
mind  gifted  with  wonderful  powers  of  feeling,  and  with  powers  of 
expression  equally  wonderful.  Of  the  great  compass  of  Ins  talents 
the  proof  is  easy  :  he  was  the  lineal  successor  of  almost  all  the  first 
"performers  in  the  preceding  age  ;  of  Quia  in  Falstaff,  ^\  oodward 
in  Bobadil,  Macklin  in  Shylock,  Mossop  in  Zanga,  Digges  in, 
Wolsey,  Barry  in  Evander,  and  Garrick  in  Richard,  Lear,  Bene- 
dick, Sir  John  Brute,  and  almost  all  his  other  characters  ;  but  th^ 
■greatest  triumph  of  the  comic  Muse,  perhaps,  was  Henderson's 
representation  of  the  fat  knight  Falstarf :  it  is  probable,  "  Y>  e  ne'er 
"  shall  look  upon  its  like  again  !" 

On  the  COdi  of  June  1787,  Mr.  John  Palmer  opened  a  new 
playhquse,  called  the  Royalty  Theatre,  near  Wellciose  Square, 
-which  had  been  built  by  subscription,  on  a  spacious  and  elegant 

=-■  Written  by  Mr.  B'clnvll.     Scs  GintltHtttti  USaglodtu,  rol.lv.  pp.  449,  450s.    ' 
•}-  She  died  Feb.  .16,  i/38.. 


INTRODUCTION.  xliii 

scale,  under  the  idea  that  the  justices  of  the  Tower  Hamlets  were 
empowered,  by  the  royalty  of  that  fortress,  to  license  the  perform- 
ance of  plays :  it  proved,  however,  to  be  very  different ;  for,  after 
the  night  of  opening,  when  As  You  like  It,  and  Miss  in  her  Teens, 
were  performed  for  the  benefit  of  a  public  charity,  the  theatre  im- 
mediately closed,  and  the  entertainments  afterwards  exhibited  were 
burlettas,  dances,  and  pantomimes,  in  the  manner  of  those  per- 
formed at  Sadler's  Wells,  &c.  The  idea  of  a  permission  to  perform 
plays  had  been  so  far  indulged  by  the  proprietors,  that  Messrs. 
Quick,  Johnstone,    Ryder,    Mrs.  Wells,  Airs.  Martyr,  &c.  &c. 
were  actually  engaged;  and  their  abilities,  joined  to  those  of  Messrs. 
Palmer  and  Bannister,  sen.  (who  did  perform  on  the  re-opening  of 
the  house),  would  certainly  have  been  sufficiently  attractive  to  have 
rendered  the  theatre  of  material  consequence.     Messrs.  Harris, 
Linley,  and  Colman,  persisted  in  their  determination  of  opposing 
it  in  every  stage ;  and  even  when  it  Mas  opened  for  musical  and 
pantomimical   performances  an  information  was  laid  against  Mr. 
Delpini,  for  only  crying  out  "  JRoast  Beef"  whilst  acting  the  part 
of  the  Clown  in  a  pantomime;  and  two  magistrates  were  lined  100/, 
each,  and  rendered  incapable  of  acting  iu  the  commission  of  the 
peace,  for  having  discharged  Mr.  Bannister,  when  informed  against 
as  a  vagabond.    The  circumstances  relative  to  opening  the  theatre 
may  be  explained  by  the  following  address,  which  was  read  by  Mr, 
Palmer  after  the  play  and  farce  were  over : 
"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, 
"  I  am  sorry,  on  the  first  night  that  I  have  the  honour  of  seeing 
"  this  theatre  graced  by  so  splendid  an  appearance,  to  be  obliged 
"  to  trouble  you  with  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  my  situation, 
"  1  had  Haltered  myself  that  I  should  be  able,  during  the  summer 
"  months,  to  exert  my  best  endeavours  in  your  service. 

"  This  theatre  was  built  under  a  letter  of  approbation  from  the 
"  Lieutenant  Governor  of  the  Tower;  and  being  situated  in 
"  a  palace  and  fortress,  in  a  district  immediately  within  his  juris* 
"  diction,  his  consent,  added  to  a  license  obtained  from  the  ina- 
"  gistrates,  authorizing  a  place  of  public  entertainment,  was 
u  deemed  legal  authority. 

"  The  first  stone  of  the  building  was  laid  on  the  26th  of  Decern- 
"  ber  1785  ;  at  that  time  the  managers  of  the  theatres  at  the  west 
"  end  of  the  town  made  no  kind  of  objection.  In  the  course  of 
"  last  summer,  when  I  performed  at  the  Little  Theatre  in  the 
"  Haymarket,  Mr.  Colman  wrote  a  prologue, which  I  spoke  on  my 
"  benefit-night ;  and,  among  others,  were  the  following  lines  : 

**  For  me,  whose  utmost  aim  is  your  delight, 
V  Accept  the  humble  offering  of  this  night  j 
"  To  please,  wherever  plac'd,  be  still  my  carp, 
"  At  Drury,  Haymarket,  or  Wellclose  Square. 


xliv  INTRODUCTION. 

'*  As  Mr..  Colman  knew  the  plan  I  had  then  in  view,  it  was  fair 
"  to  conclude  that  he  did  not  meditate  an  opposition.  Mr.  Harris, 
"  of  Covent  Garden  rIheatre,  gave  his  consent  in  writing  that  Mr. 
"  Quick  should  be  engaged  here.  After  all  this,  to  my  great  asto- 
"  nishment,  when  a  large  expense  had  been  incurred,  and  this 
"  house  was  completely  ready  for  opening,  the  three  managers 
"  thought  good  to  publish  in  the  newspapers  extracts  from  different 
"  acts  of  Parliament,  accompanied  with  their  joint  resolution  to 
"  put  the  acts  in  force  against  this  theatre :  they  went  a  step  fur- 
"  ther,  they  served  me  with  this  notice." 

[Here  Mr.  Palmer  read  a  copy  of  a  notice  sent  to  him,  signed  by 
Thomas  Linley,  Thomas  Harris,  and  George  Colman,  acquaint- 
ing him  that  instructions  were  given  to  lodge  informations  against 
him  fcr  every  appearance  he  s  ould  make  in  any  play,  or  scene  of 
a  play,  at  any  unlicensed  theatre,  contrary  to  the  statute.] 
"  I  have  the  satisfaction  to  find,  that  those  three  gentlemen  are 
"  the  only  enemies  to  this  undertaking  ;  and  it  will  be  for  them- 
"  selves  to  consider  whether  they  are  not,  at  the  same  time,  op- 
"  posing  the  voice  of  the  public. 

"  For  myself,  I  have  embarked  my  all  in  this  theatre;  persuaded 
"  that,  under  the  sanction  I  obtained,  it  was  perfectly  legal ; — iu  the 
"  event  of  it,  every  thing  dear  to  my  family  is  involved. 

il  I  was  determined  to  strain  every  nerve  to  merit  your  favour ; 
**  but  when  I  consider  the  case  of  other  performers  who  have  been 
"  also  threatened  with  prosecutions,  I  own,  whatever  risk  I  run 
"  myself,  I  feel  too  much  to  risk  for  them. 

"  I  had  promised  a  benefit  play  for  the  use  of  the  London  Hos- 
"  pital ;  and  all  the  performers  agreed  with  me  that  one  night  at 
"  least  should  be  employed  for  so  useful  a  purpose. 

"  We  have  not  performed  for  hire,  gain,  or  reward:  and  we  hope 
u  that  the  three  managers,  with  the  magistiates  in  their  interest, 
"  will  neither  deem  benevolence  a  misdemeanor,  nor  send  us,  for 
"  an  act  of  charity,  to  hard  labour  in  the  House  of  Correction. 

"  I  beg  pardon*  for  trespassing  thus  long  upon  your  patience : 
€C  circumstanced  as  things  are,  and  a  combination  being  formed  to 
"  oppress  and  ruin  me,  it  is  not  at  present  in  my  power  to  give  out 
"  another  play. 

"  Under  the  act  of  Parliament  that  empowered  magistrates  tp 
<c  allow  certain  performances,  I  obtained  a  license  ;  and  to  whatever 
"  purpose  of  innocent  amusement  this  theatre  may  be  converted, 
"  your  future  patronage  will  abundantly  compensate  for  every 
"  difficulty  I  have  had  to  encounter. 

"  Tumblers  and  dancing  dogs  might  appear  unmolested  before 
"  you ;  but  the  other  performers  and  myself  standing  forward  to 
u  exhibit  a  moral  play  is  deemed  a  crime. 

"  The  purpose,  however,  for  \jhich  we  have  this  ni^ht  everted 
2 


INTRODUCTION.  xh 

"  ourselves,  may  serve  to  show  that  a  theatre  near  Wellclose 
'*  Square  may  be  as  useful  as  in  Covent  Garden,  Drury  Lane, 
"  or  the  Haymarket. 

**  AW  that  remains,  at  present,  is  to  return  you  my  grateful 
"  thanks  tor  the  indulgence  with  which  you  have  honoured  me  this 
"  njght.  1  forbear  to  enlarge  upon  that  subject;  my  heart  is  too 
"  full ;  I  shall  ever  be  devoted  to  your  service. 

"  Until  it  is  announced  that  this  house  shall  be  again  opened 
**  with  a  species  of  entertainment  not  subjecting  me  to  danger,  I 
"  humbly  take  my  leave." 

This  address  produced  several  newspaper  insertions ;  in  particu- 
lar one  from  Mr.  Quick,  who  stated,  that  the  only  writing  he  ever 
received  from  Mr.  Harris* on  the  subject  was  so  far  from  a  consent, 
that  it  tended  entirely  to  prove  the  uncertain  and  dangerous  ground 
on  which  the  proprietors  of  the  Royalty  Theatre  were  going.— 
An  address  from  Mr.  Harris  himself  also  appeared  in  the  public 
pruits,  exculpating  himself  from  any  charge  of  duplicity,  and  af- 
firming that  Mr.  Palmer  had,  till  the  Monday  before  opening  his 
theatre,  always  maintained  that  he  had  sufficient  authority  to  per- 
form plays,  and  by  this  affirmation  many  respectable  performers 
had  been  deceived  :  Mr.  H  concluded  by  offering  the  use  of  Co- 
vent  Garden  Theatre  and  wardrobe,  for  three  nights,  to  those  who, 
by  relying  on  Mr.  Palmer's  assurances,  had  been  distressed  ;  which 
one?,  being  construed  into  an  insult  by  the  performers  of  the  Roy- 
alty, was  treated  in  the  papers  with  contempt. 

Mr.  Colmau  also,  to  exculpate  himself  of  the  charge  of  the  lines 
in  Mr.  Palmer's  address,  inserted  a  paragraph,  declaring  that  he 
did  it  in  consequence  of  Mr.  Palmer's  statement,  that  he  had  suf- 
ficient; authority  for  his  plan  ;  and  that,  as  he  did  not  intend  to 
open  his  new  theatre  in  the  summer,  he,  of  course,  could  not  in- 
terfere with  the  interests  of  the  Haymarket  house  :  whereas  Mr. 
P.  in  contradiction  to  his  promise,  opened  in  Jmie. 

The  Royalty  opened  again  on  the  £d  of  July,  with  a  variety  of 
musical,  scenic,  and  pantomimic  exhibitions ;  in  the  latter  Mr. 
Palmer  himself  performed,  and  gained  new  reputation  in  a  line 
that  he  had  hitherto  never  attempted.  Mr.  Bannister,  with  the 
warmest  degree  of  friendship,  refused  to  return  to  the  winter  the- 
atres, and  determined  to  stick  by  his  friend  Palmer  to  the  last. — 
The  principal  performers,  during  the  time  the  Royalty  remained 
open  afterwards,  were,  Mr  J.  Palmer,  Mr.  Bannister,  Mr.  Sedg- 
wick, Mr.  W.  Palmer,  Mr.  Leoni,  Mr.  Lee- Lewes,  Master  (now 
Mr.)  Braham,  Mr.  Collins  (author  of  The  Brush),  Mr.  Bates, 
Mr.  Arrowsmith,  Mr.  Follet,  sen.  Mr.  Follet,  juu.  Mr.  Rees, 
Mr.  Delpini,  Mr.  Holland,  &c.  Sec. — Miss  George,  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
Mrs.  Wells,  Mrs.  Warrel,  Mrs.  Burnett,  Mis$  Buruett,  fcc.  See 

d3 


fiJM  INTRODUCTION". 

&c.  with  a  numerous  company  of  figure-dancers,  pantomime  per* 
formers,  chorus-singers,  &c. 

On  the  Qth  of  June  1783,  after  a  service  of  35  years,  Mr. 
Smith,  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  retired  from  the  stage  ;  taking 
leave  of  the  audience  in  an  appropriate  address. 

On  the  17th  of  June,  in  the  following  year,  the  King's  Theatre 
in  the  Haymarket  was  destroyed  by  fire. 

The  summer  season  of  17£)0  introduced  the  present  Mr.  Column 
as  manager  of  the  Haymarket  Theatre,  in  the  room  of  his  father, 
who  unfortunately  laboured  under  mental  derangement. 

On  the  31st  of  October  died,  aged  42,  that  eccentric  and  fa- 
vourite comedian,  Mr.  John  Edwin  ;  whose  loss  was  severely  felt 
both  at  the  Covent  Garden  and  Haymarket  theatres  ;  and  of  whom 
it  hns  been  well  said,  that  O'Keeffe  and  he  played  into  each 
other's  hands ;  the  one  wa.?  born  to  act  what  the  other  wrote ;  and 
so  great  was  the  similarity  of  conception  in  O'Keeffe,  and  of  ex- 
pression in  Edwin,  that,  but  for  the  mutual  support  they  received 
from  each  other,  the  public  had  probably  been  deprived  of  the 
exertions  of  both. 

As  a  successor  to  the  cast  of  characters  which  had  been  left 
vacant  by  the  death  of  Edwin,  Mr.  Munden,  from  the  Chester 
theatre,  was  engaged  at  Covent  Garden,  where  he  made  his  first 
appearance  on  the  2d  of  December  1790,  in  the  very  dissimilar 
parts  of  Sir  Francis  Gripe,  in  The  Busy  Body,  and  Jemmy 
Jumps,  in  The  Farmer ;  and  in  both  exhibited  a  promise  of  ta- 
lents which  have  since  ripened  into  a  state  of  high  perfection ; 
but  to  the  peculiar  line  of  business  which  had  been  occupied  by 
his  predecessor,  Mr.  Munden  added  that  of  representing  old  men 
serious  and  pathetic,  as  well  as  comic  ;  for  his  excellence  in  which, 
we  need  only  refer  to  his  performance  of  Oid  Dornton,  in  The 
Road  to  liuin,  and  other  similar  characters. 

On  the  4th  of  June  1791,  the  old  Drury  Lane  Theatre  closed 
for  the  last  time  :  it  having  been  resolved  to  take  it  down,  and  re- 
build a  more  commodious  house  on  the  site.  But,  as  it  was  im- 
possible that  this  object  could  be  effected  against  the  usual  time 
for  re-opening  the  winter  season,  the  newly-built  Opera  House  (or 
King's  Theatre),  in  the  Haymarket,  was  taken  for  a  time,  and 
opened  by  the  Drury  Lane  company,  Sept.  22,  with  a  prelude, 
called  Poor  Old  Drury,  and  au  advance  in  the  prices  of  admission, 
of  one  shilling  to  the  boxes,  and  sixpence  to  the  pit;  which  made 
the  former  6s.  and  the  latter  3s.  6d. 

The  preceding  day  had  introduced  Mr.  Fawcett,  from  the  York, 
theatre,  at  Covent  Garden,  in  the  character  of  Caleb,  in  He  zcou'd 
be  a- Soldier.  His  exertions  that  evening,  in  a  part  thitherto  per- 
formed by  Mr.  Edwin,  gave  an  earnest  of  the  popularity  at  w  hick 
lie  has  since  arrived  as  a  comic  actor. 


INTRODUCTION.  xlvii 

On  the  1 7"  tli  of  September  1792,  Covent  Garden  Theatre  opened 
for  the  season ;  and,  on  account  of  the  extensive  improvements  which 
had  been  even  where  made  in  it,  might  justly  claim  to  be  called  a 
new   house.     Having  expended  25,000/.   on    the    building,   and 
considerably  enlarged  his  company,  Mr.  Harris  required  a  small 
advance  in  the  prices  of  admission  ;  namely,  that  the  boxes  should 
be  6s.  and  the  pit  3*.  1)<L     He  conceived,  and,  we  think,  justly, 
that,  in  a  country  professing  obedience  to  the  law,  he  had  a  right 
to  offer  his  services  to  the  public  on  terms  proportionate  to  the 
capital  which  he  had  advanced.     But  a  custom  becoming  very  pre- 
valent, and  menacing  alarming  consequences,  viz.  that  of  abiding 
by  the  clamorous  determination  of  a  riotous  part  of  the  audience, 
produced  an  altercation  and  discussion  which  was  a  dishonour  to 
the  country  *:  for  if  a  manager  propose  any  thing  unjust,  or  ille- 
gal, it  is  in  the  power  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain  and  of  the  law  to 
punish  him  ;  but  if  not,  he  is  certainly  entitled,  in  common  with 
every  other  man  of  useful  talents  and  commendable  industry,  to 
the  protection  of  the  civil  power  and  of  the  Government.     In  one 
thine  only,  upon  this  occasion,  do  we  discern  any  fair  ground  for 
public  complaint;  and  that  was,  in  an  attempt  (certainly  ill-advised) 
to  abolish  the  one-shilling  gallery.     The  impropriety  of  this  mea- 
sure was  soon  generally  acknowledged;  and  in  a  fortnight's  time 
a  gallery  was  erected  and  opened. 

In  170.3  the  proprietors  of  the  Drury  Lane  patent,  not  having 
been  able  to  finish  their  new  house  in  time  for  the  customary  com- 
mencement of  the  season,  nor  being  allowed  to  occupy,  as  before, 
the  Opera  House  (which  now  became  again  the  King's  Theatre,  the 
Pantheon,  where  the  Italian  opera  had  for  a  time  been  pei formed, 
being  consumed  by  tire  on  the  14th  .Jan.  1792),  made  arrangements 
With  Mr.  Colman,  Jan.  in  order  that  the  public  might  not  be  de- 
prived of  a  second  theatre  to  resort  to  during  the  winter  months, 
and  opened  the  Little  Theatre,  in  the  11  ay  market,  with  the  Drury 
Lane  company,  on  the  lQth  of  September;  commencing  their 
campaign  with  The  Mountaineers.  This  season,  however,  was 
productive  of  a  dreadful  catastrophe.  On  the  3d  of  February 
1794,  their  Majesties  having  commanded  Mi/  Grandmother,  No 
Soup;  wo  Supper,  and  The  Prize,  the  crowd  was  so  great  at  the 
pit  door,  that,  when  it  wus  opened,  a  gentleman  was  thrown 
down  the  stairs;  and,  the  people  pushing  forward,  others  fell  over 
him,  and  were  trampled  upon  by  those  who  were  still  rushing  in. 
The  groans  and  screams  of  the  dying  and  maimed  were  truly 
shocking ;  while  those  who  were  literally  treading  their  fellow- 
creatures  to  death,  had  it  not  in  their  power  to  recede  from  the 
mischief  they  were  doing.   The  bodies  were  carried  with  all  possible 

*  See  Vol.  III.  p.  176,  art.  311. 
d4 


xivui  INTRODUCTION. 

expedition  to  the  neighbouring  houses,  and  every  means  used  to 
restore  animation  ;  but  fifteen  persons  of  both  sexes  had  been 
killed;  among  whom, were  Benjamin  Pingo,  Esq.  York  Herald, 
and  J.  C.  Brooke,  Esq.  Somerset  Herald,  of  the  Heralds'  College. 
Nearly  twenty  others  suffered  material  injury  ill  bruises,  broken 
arms  and  legs  ;  some  of  whom  did  not  survive  many  days.  This 
melancholy  accident  was  not  made  known  to  their  Majesties  till 
after  their  return  home. 

The  pew  Theatre  Royal  in  Drury  Lane,  which  had  been  built, 
by  Mr.  Holland,  being  now  internally  completed  in  a  most  taste- 
ful and  elegatit  style,  was  opened  on  the  12th  of  March. with  a 
grand  selection  of  sacred  music  from  Handel's  works,  commencing 
with  the  Coronation  Anthem.  The  orchestra  was  so  fitted  up  as 
to  represent  the  inside  of  a  Gothic  cathedral,  and  the  house  was 
crowded  in  every  part.  It  afterwards  opened  for  dramatic  per- 
formances on  the  21st  of  April,  with  the  tragedy  of  Macbeth,  and 
the  farce  of  The  Virgin  Lnmasked,  to  an  audience  which  com- 
pletely overflowed  long  before  the  curtain  arose,  to  the  disappoint- 
ment of  a  ninth  greater  number  than  were  gratified  with  a  view  of 
the  superb  spectacle  which  it  presented.  A  prologue,  written  for 
the  occasion  by  the  Right  Hon.  General  Fitzpatriek,  was  spoken 
by  Mr.  Kemble  :  it  turned  chiefly  on  the  fostering  shelter  which 
the  freedom  and  tranquillity  of  this  country  so  happily  give  to  the 
liberal  arts ;  and  the  erection  of  that  theatre  was  properly  repre- 
sented as  a  monument  to  the  Genius  of  Shakspeare,  more  suitable 

"  Than  the  proud  pyramid's  unmeaning  mass." 

It  concluded  with  a  panegyric  on  the  tragic  and  comic  Muses, 
and  with  professions  of  gratitude  on  the  part  of  the  managers,  for 
the  public  patronage  that  had  enabled  them  to  erect  a  theatre,  in 
which  their  favourite  amusements  could  be  exhibited  with  the  best 
effect.  The  tragedy  was  represented  with,  great  magnificence  of 
decoration,  and  with  some  novelties  both  in  the  conduct  and  ma- 
chinery of  the  fable.  The  scenes  were  all  new,  and  extremely 
beautiful.  Of  the  novelties  in  the  management  of  the  pl:,y  tho 
following  were  the  most  striking  : — '1  he  ghost  of  Bauquo  did  not 
enter  in  the  scene  of  the  festival;  but  Macbeth  "  bent  his  eye  on  va- 
cancv" — an  alteration  in  which  every  classical  miud  must  agree  with 
Mr.  Kemble*.  The  high-crowned  hats  and  lace-aprons  of  the 
witches  were  properly  discarded :  they  were  represented  as  preter- 
natural beings,  adopting  no  human  garb,  and  distinguished  only 
bv  the  fellness  of  their  purposes,  and  the  fatality  of  their  delusions. 
Hecate's  companion-spirit  descended  on  the  cloud,  and  rose  again 

*  We  are  sorry  to  observe,  that  trte  meaty-faced  ghost  of  Ban^uo  has  again  bee» 
mzdz  visible  to  the  judieucc. 


INTRODUCTION.  x\a 

with  him.  In  the  cauldron  scene,  new  groups  were  introduced  to 
personify  the  "  black  spirits  unci  white,  blue  spirits  and  grey  ;"  and 
here  one  would  have  imagined  that  the  Muse  of  Fuseli  had  been 
the  director  of  the  scene.  The  evil  spirits  had  serpents  writhing 
round  them,  which  had  a  striking  effect. — It  was  this  evening's 
performance  that  first  brought  Mr.  Charles  Kemble  before  a  Lon- 
don audience.  He  assumed  the  humble  part  of  Malcolm,  and 
>vas  very  well  received. — Miss  Farreu  spoke  an  excellent  epi- 
logue, written  by  Mr.  Col  man,  jun.;  the  argument  of  which 
was,  that  when  some  opulent  peer,  proud  of  his  vertu,  gives 
a  public  day,  some  stale  housekeeper  is  appointed  to  explain 
the  beauties  of  the  collection ;  so  on  the  opening  of  this  new 
house,  she  was  appointed  to  show  it.  She  then  assured  the, 
audience,  that  they  need  be  in  no  fear  of  fire,  for  they  had  water 
enough  to  "  drown  them  all  in  half  a  minute ;  die  curtain  then 
drew,  and  showed  a  very  fine  river  on  the  stage,  on  which  a  water? 
maur  in  his  boat,  passed  to  and  fro ;  in  addition  to  this,  they  had 
an  iron  curtain  preparing,  so  that,  in  case  of  fire,  only  the  scenes 
and  the  actors  could  be  burnt.  It  concluded  with  a  view  of  Shak- 
epeare's  monument,  under  his  mulberry-tree,  surrounded  by  a  group 
of  his  own  characters,  with  the  Tragic  and  Comic  Muses.  The 
scene  terminated  with  the  song  of  "  The  mulberry-tree,"  and  the 
glee  of  "  Where  the  bee  sips." 

This  theatre  contained  in  the  pit  800  persons ;  the  whole  range 
of  boxes  1328;  two-shilling  gallery  67 o  ;  one-shilling  gallery  308: 
total,  :>t>l  1  ;  amounting  to  771/.  O's.  There  were  8  private  boxes 
on  each  side  of  the  pit ;  29  boxes  round  the  first  tier,  and  1 1  back 
front  boxes ;  29  all  round  the  second  tier,  of  which  1 1  were  six 
seats  deep;  10  on  each  side  of  the  gallery,  third  tier;  boxes  in 
the  cove,  9  on  each  side.  The  diameter  of  the  pit  was  55  feet ; 
the  opening  of  the  curtain  43  feet  wide  ;  height  of  the  curtain  38 
feet;  height  of  the  house,  from  pit-floor  to  the  ceiling,  56*  feet 
6  inches.  On  account  of  the  vast  expense  which  had  necessarily 
attended  the  opening  of  the  new  theatre,  there  were  no  benefits 
given  to  the  performers  this  season. 

During  the  summer  of  this  year,  i.  e.  on  the  14th  of  August, 
died,  at  Paddington,  George  Colman,  Esq.  the  patentee  of  the 
Haymarket  Theatre;  whose  abilities  as  a  dramatist  are  well  known 
to  the  public  by  his  various  works ;  yet  these  were  not  more  the 
subjects  of  praise,  than  his  punctuality  as  a  manager,  and  his  li- 
beral encouragement  to  other  wi  iters  for  the  stage.  His  son,  the 
present  George  Colman,  Esq.  who  had  ably  and  prosperously 
conducted  the  concern  during  the  unhappy  affliction  of  the  de- 
ceased, succeeded  to  the  patent. 

On  the  20th  of  November  in  this  year  died  Mr.  Robert  Bad- 
deley,  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre ;  an  exceljeut  low  comedian,  but 


Hi  INTRODUCTION. 

In  the  following  year,  viz.  on  the  8th  of  April,  "Miss  Farreft, 
after  the  performance  of  Lady  Teazle,  in  The  School  for  Scandal, 
bade  farewell  to  the  stage,  leaving  no  actress  behind  her  of  nearly 
equal  talents  in  the  line  of  genteel  comedy.  She  retired,  however, 
to  rank  and  affluence;  for  the  Earl  of  Derby  led  her  to  the 
hymeneal  altar  on  the  8th  of  May  following. 

To  oblige  and  serve  his  old  coadjutor  Tom  King,  Mr.  Smith, 
after  having  retired  from  the  stage  ten  years,  returned  for  a  single 
liight,  to  perform,  on  the  18th  of  May  1798,  for  his  benefit,  his 
celebrated  character  of  Charles  Surface,  in  The  School  for  Scan- 
dal ;  which  he  went  through,  with  little  perceptible  diminution  of 
activity  or  excellence,  at  the  age,  we  believe,  of  68  years. 

The  most  remarkable  stage  incident  of  this  year  was,  the 
sudden  death  of  Mr.  John  Palmer,  on  the  Liverpool  stage  ;  which 
happened  on  the  Cd  of  August,  in  the  57th  year  of  his  age.  He 
had  dined  on  the  CQth  of  July  with  several  persons  belonging  to 
the  Theatre,  and  appeared  to  be  rather  low-spirited ;  which  was 
attributed  to  the  recent  loss  of  his  wife  and  son ;  but  on  Wednes- 
day, the  first  of  August,  he  performed  Young  Wilding,  in  The 
Liar,  with  his  accustomed  vivacity.  The  next  day  he  appeared 
again  dejected;  nor  could  the  efforts  of  his  friends  rouse  him  from 
the  melancholy  in  which  he  seemed  to  be  sunk.  In  the  evening 
lie  was  to  perform  The  Stranger,  and  in  the  first  two  acts  exerted 
himself  with  great  effect ;  but  in  the  third  he  appeared  unusually 
agitated,  after  uttering  the  words, 

"  There  is  anot'ier  and  a  letter  world  !" 

In  the  first  scene  of  the  fourth  act,  while  about  to  reply  to  Baron 
Sleinfort,  he  suddenly  fell,  heaved  a  convulsive  sigh,  and  expired. 
The  following  paragraph  is  copied  from  an  account  of  the  death  of 
Mr.  Palmer,  said  to  have  been  written  by  Mr.  Whitfield,  who 
performed  Baron  Steinfort,  and  was  with  him  on  the  stage  when 
the  melancholy  event  took  place : 

"  A  few  minutes  before  he  was  called  to  go  on  for  the  scene  in 
"  Vvhich  he  died,  I  asked  him  how  he  was?  he  answered,  Very 
"  poorly.  From  that  moment  I  have  reason  to  believe  he  did  not 
"  speak  till  he  went  on  the  stage  for  the  last  time.  He  was  more 
"  collected  and  correct  through  the  whole,  in  regard  to  the  words 
"  and  the  business,  but  more  energetic  and  loud  in  the  description 
"  of  his  false  friend,  than  when  he  performed  the  part  before. 
"  His  voice  seemed  to  crack,  and  at  the  end  of  the  speech,  he 
il  struck  his  head  with  great  force,  then  crossed  me,  from  my  right 
"  hand  to  m\  left.  The  two  short  speeches  he  uttered  after  wore 
"  given  rather  faintly,  but  not  more  so  than  appeared  perfectly 
"  consonant  to  the  situation  of  the  character.  After  i  put  the 
"  question,  '  7! Thy  did  yon  not  keep  your  children  with  you'}  they 
"  zvould  have  amused  you  in  many  a  dreary  hour ;   he  turned  to 


INTRODUCTION.  liu 

M  reply,  and,  for  the  space  of  about  ten  seconds,  he  paused  as  if 
"  waiting  for  the  prompter  to  give  him  the  word  ;  then  put  out  his 
"  right  hand,  as  if  going  to  take  hold  of  mine.  It  drop*,  as  to 
"  support  his  fall,  but  it  had  no  power ;  in  that  instant  he  fell, 

*  but  not  at  full  length,  he  couched  in  failing,  so  that  hjs  head 

*  did  not  strike  the  stage  with  great  violence.  He  never  breathed 
A  after.     1  think  1  may  venture  to  say  he  died  without  a  pang*." 

Medical  assistance  was  immediately  procured,  and  exerted, 
until  every  hope  of  recovery  had  vanished,  and  the  body  was  car- 
ried away  on  a  bier.— Mr.  Aickin  endeavoured,  but  was  unable, 
t<»  <  ommunicate  the  sad  information  to  the  audience,  which  was 
done  bv  Mr.  Incledon,  and  the  house  was  immediately  cleared.—— 
On  the  Monday  following,  being  the  6th  of  August,  the  remains 
of  Mr.  Palmer  were  interred  at  AVarton,  a  village  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Liverpool,  attended  by  all  the  gentlemen  of  the 
Theatre,  and  a  number  of  others  belonging  to  the  town.  Tin* 
grave  was  seven  feet  deep,  dug  in  u  rock.  'llie  coffin  was  oak, 
covered  with  black,  and  simply  inscribed  with  the  name  of  its 
tenant.  On  the  13th  of  the  same  month,  a  free  benefit  was  given  at 
Liverpool,  and  one,  on  the  15th  of  {September,  at  Drurv  Lane. 
to  the  orphan  children  of  the  deceased  :  the  receipts  of  the  latter 
were  said  to  amount  to  800/. 

Two  circumstances  occurred  on  the  15th  of  May  1800,  which, 
taken  together,  wore  a  very  alarming  aspect.  His  Majesty  was 
that  morning  attending  ihe  field  exercises  of  the  grenadier  battalion 
of  the  guards ;  when,  during  one  of  the  vollies,  a  ball  cartridge 
was  bred,  which  struck  Mr.  Ongley,  a  clerk  in  the  allotment 
department  of  the  Navy  Office,  who  was  standing  only  twenty-* 
thtkefeet distance  from  the  King  The  ball  entered  theileshy  part 
of  the  thigh  in  front,  and  passed  straight  through.  Mr.  Ongley  was 
dressed  on  the  ground,  and  informed  that  there  Mas  no  danger. 
Had  the  wound  been  an  inch  higher,  however,  it  must  have 
proved  fatal.  An  examination  took  place  of  the  cartouch-boxes 
of  the  soldiers,  but  no  individual  could  be  iixed  upon  as  the  per- 
petrator of  this  act.  In  the  evening,  however,  a  most  extraordi- 
nary circumstance  occurred  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  Drury  Lane ; 
which,  coupled  with  the  accident,  if  such  it  was  to  be  considered, 
that  had  happened  in  the  morning,  gaye  rise  to  very  serious  alarms 
and  apprehensions  in  the  minds  of  all  loyal  subjects.  The  King 
had  commanded  the  performances  of  the  night;  and  at  the  moment 
when  His  Majesty  entered  his  box,  a  man  in  the  pit,  near  the 
orchestra,  on  the  right  hand  side,  suddenly  stood  up  and  discharged 
a  pistol  at  the  Royal  Person.  Fi is  Majesty  had  advanced  about 
four  steps  from  the  door.  On  the  report  of  a  pistol,  His  Majesty 
stopped,  and  stood  firmly.     The  house  was  immediately  in  an  up- 

*  See  other  instances  of  deaths  oa  the  stage,  in  the  article,  Peterson,  JesEPHb 


liv  INTRODUCTION. 

roar;  and  the  cry  of  "  Seize  him"  burst  from  every  part  of  the 
Theatre.  The  King,  apparently  not  the  least  disconcerted,  came 
nearly  to  the  front  of  the  box.  The  Queen  followed,  and  the  King 
waved  his  hand  for  her  to  keen  back.  Her  Majesty  asked  what  was 
ifce  matter?  The  King  said,  "  Only  a  squib,  a  squib;  they  are 
"  firing  squibs."  After  the  assassin  hud  been  taken  away,  the  Queen 
came  forward,  and  in  great  agitation  curtsied.  She  looked  at  the 
King,  and  asked  if  they  should  stay  ?  The  King  answered,  "  We 
41  will  not  stir,  but  stay  the  entertainment  out."  Ail  the  Princesses, 
except  Elizabeth;  fainted  as  soon  as  they  sat  down.  The  man  w  ho 
committed  the  crime  was  seized  and  conveyed  from  the  pit.  The 
audience  vehemently  called  out  "  Show  Mm  !"  In  consequence 
of  which  loyal  clamour,  Mr.  Kelly,  who,  with  a  multitude  of  per- 
sons belonging  to  the  Theatre,  had  rushed  upon  the  stage,  came 
forward  and  assured  them  that  the  culprit  was  in  safe  custody. 
The  indignation  of  the  audience  was  soothed  by  this  intelligence, 
and  their  feelings  gave  way  to  loyal  rapture,  at  the  happy  escape 
of  their  revered  monarch.  "  God  save  the  King"  was  universally 
demanded.  It  was  sung  by  all  the  vocal  performers,  and  encored. 
The  curtain  drew  up  for  the  commencement  of  the  play  ;  but  Mr. 
Bannister, ijun.  was  not  suffered  to  proceed  till  something  more 
could  be  learned  respecting  the  wretch  who  had  made  this  diabo- 
lical attempt. — -Bannister  and  Mrs.  Jordan  both  again  assured  the 
audience  that  the  culprit  was  perfectly  secured,  and  the  play  was 
then  suffered  to  go  on  without  further  interruption. 

Mr.  Hoiroyd,  of  Scotland  Yard,  plumberto  His  Majesty, had  pro- 
videntially had  time  to  raise  the  arm  of  the  assassin,  so  as  to  direct 
the  contents  of  die  pistol  towards  the  roof  of  the  box.  Mr.  Major 
Wright,  a  solicitor  in  YVellclose  Square,  who  sat  immediately 
bthmd  the  man,  assisted  in  securing  him.  He  dropped  the  pistol; 
but  Mr.  Wright  round  it  under  the  seat. 

Mr.  Sheridan,  assisted  by  Mr.  Wigstead,  the  magistrate,  pro- 
ceeded immediately  to  examine  the  man  in  the  room  into  which 
he  had  been  conducted,  and  where  he  had  been  searched  to  see  if 
he  had  any  other  lire-arms,  or  papers.  He  had  none.  Mr. 
Tamplin,  a  trumpeter  in  the  band,  who  assisted  in  taking  him 
over  the  orchestra,  recognised  the  man  to  be  a  soldier,  and,  pulling 
open  his  coat,  found  that  he  had  on  a  military  waistcoat,  with  the 
button  of  the  15th  light  dragoons.  It  was  an  officer's  old  waist- 
coat.— On  being  questioned  by  Mr.  SIu  ridan,  he  said,  "  He  had 
"no  objection  to  tell  who  he  was.  It  w  us  not  over  yet — there 
"  was  a  great  deal  more  und  worse  to  be  done  :  his  name  w  as 
"  James  Hadfieid  :  he  had  served  his  tin:*  to  a  working  silver* 
"  smith;  but  had  enlisted  into  the  i  ih  light  dragoons,  and  had 
"  fought  for  his  King  and  countr  ";  At  tins  time  the  Prince  of 
Wales  and  Duke  of  York  entered  the  room,  to  be  present  at  tire 
examination.     He  immediately  turned  to  the  Duke,  and  said-*-**! 


INTRODUCTION.  U 

iC  know  your  Royal  Highness — God  bless  *pou.  You  are  a  good 
"  fellow — I  have  served  with  yonr  Highness,  and"  (pointing  to  a 
deep  cut  over  his  eye,  and  another  long  scar  on  his  cheek,  said), 
■"  1  got  these,  and  more  than  these,  in  righting  by  your  side.  At 
"  Lincelles,  1  was  left  three  hours  among  the  dead  in  a  ditch,  and 
"  v,  as  taken  prisoner  by  the  French.  1  had  my  arm  broken  by  a 
"  shot,  and  eight  sabre  wounds  in  my  head ;  but  1  recovered,  and 
"  here  I  am."  He  then  gave  the  following  account  of  himself, 
and  of  his  conduct : 

He  said,  that  having  been  discharged  from  the  army  on  account 
of  his  wounds,  he  had  returned  to  London,  and  now  lived  by  work- 
ing at  his  own  trade.  Ho  made  a  good  deal  of  money  ;  he  worked 
for  Mr.  Solomon  Hougham.  Being  weary  of  life,  he  last  week 
bought  a  pair  of  pistols  from  one  William  Wakelin,  a  hair-dresser 
and  broker  in  St.  John's  Street.  (Persons  were  immediately  sent 
to  bring  Wakelin  and  his  master  to  the  Theatre.)  He  told  him. 
they  were  for  his  young  master,  who  would  give  him  a  blunder- 
buss-in  exchange.  That  he  borrowed  a  crown  of  his  master  that 
morning,  with  which  he  had  bought  some  powder,  and  had  gone 
to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Mason,  in  Red  J. ion  Street,  to  have  some 
beer ;  that  he  went  backwards  to  the  yard,  and  there  he  tried  hiss 
pistols.  He  found  one  of  them  good  for  nothing,  and  left  it 
behind  him.  In  his  own  trade  he  used  lead,  and  he  cast  himself 
two  slugs,  with  which  lie  loaded  his  pistol  and  came  to  the 
Theatre. 

During  this  part  of  his  narrative  Sir  William  Addington,  the  ma- 
gistrate, arrived,  and  took  the  chair  :  he  went  over  the  examina- 
tion of  the  persons  who  had  secured  him,  and  who  had  seen  the 
pistol  levelled  at  His  Majesty.  He  asked  Hadneld  what  had 
induced  him  to  attempt  the  life  of  the  best  of  Sovereigns  ?  He 
answered,  that  he  "  had  not  attempted  to  kill  the  King.  He 
"  had  fired  his  pistol  over  the  royal  box.  He  was  as  good  a  shot 
¥  as  a/a/  in  England;  but  he  was  himself  weary  of  life — he  wished 
"  for  death,  but  not  to  die  by  his  own  hands.  He  was  desirous 
"  to  raise  an  alarm ;  and  wished  that  the  spectators  might  fall 
"  upon  him — he  hoped  that  his  life  was  forfeited."  Being  asked 
if  he  had  any  accomplices,  he  solemnly  declared  that  he  had  none, 
and  with  great  energy  took  God  to  witness,  and  laid  his  hand  upon 
bis  heart. 

From  this  time  he  appeared  to  exhibit  symptoms  of  derange- 
ment. When  asked  who  his  father  was  ?  he  said,  he  had  been 
postillion  to  some  duke ;  but  he  could  not  say  what  duke.  He 
talked  in  a  mysterious  way  of  dreams,  and  of  a  great  commission 
he  had  received  in  his  sleep  ;  that  he  knew  he  was  to  be  a  martvr 
and  was  to  be  persecuted  like  his  great  Master.  He  had  been 
persecuted  in  France  ;  but  he  had  uot  ye^beeu  sufficiently  tried* 


hi  INTRODUCTION. 

He  knew  what  he  was  to  endure.     He  uttered  many  other  inco- 
herent things  in  the  same  style. 

William  Wakelin,  the  person  of  whom  he  had  bought  the 
pistols,  being  brought  to  the  house,  was  examined.  He  said,  it 
was  true  that  he  had  bought  a  pair  of  pistols  of  him,  and  that  he 
had  said  that  they  were  for  his  young  master,  who  would  give  him  a 
blunderbuss  for  them :  but  he  had  not  yet  got  the  blunderbuss.  He 
knew  very  little  of  Hadfield,  but  knew  where  he  worked,  and  had 
heard  a  good  character  of  him ;  but  that  the  least  drink  affected  his 
bead. 

Several  persons  from  the  house  of  Mrs.  Mason,  his  acquaint- 
ance, confirmed  this  fact ;  and  they  said  they  ascribed  this  to  the 
verv  severe  wounds  he  had  received  in  the  head.  The  least  drink 
quite  deranged  him. 

Upon  this  evidence  he  wa3  committed  to  Cold  Bath  Fields,  for 
re-examination ;  and  their  Royal  Highnesses  the  Dukes  of  Clarence 
and  Cumberland,  and  Mr.  Sheridan,  conducted  him  thither. 
His  Majesty's  Privy  Council,  however,  desiring  to  examine  him 
forthwith,  to  discover  if  he  had  any  accomplices,  he  was  taken  to 
the  Duke  of  Portland's  office,  wheie  he  underwent  another  exa- 
mination. Mr.  Major  Wright,  Mr.  Tamplin,  Mr.  Holroyd,  Mr. 
Calkin,  Mr.  Parkinson,  Mr.  Francis  Wood,  Mr.  Lyon,  and  Mr. 
I)ietif,  the  persons  who  were  instrumental  in  securing  him,  and 
v.  hose  evidence  was  the  most  material  as  to  directing  the  pistol  to- 
wards His  Majesty's  box,  if  not  towards  his  sacred  person,  also 
attended,  and  were  directed  to  attend  again  next  day  at  one 
o'clock  ;  when  a  council  was  to  be  held. 

We  now  return  to  the  proceedings  in  the  Theatre.  During  tha 
performance  of  *  God  save  the  King/'  every  passage  that  referred 
to  the  safety  of  His  Majesty  was  received  with  a  thunder  of  ap- 
plause, and  shouting  of  Huzza!  At  the  end  of  the  farce,  which 
was  The  Htunourkr,  "  God  save  the  King"  was  again  demanded  ; 
when  Mr.  Kelly  sung  the  following  additional  verse,  which  had  been 
written  impromptu : — 

f*  From  ev'ry  latent  foe, 
f*  From  the  assassin's  blow, 

"  God  save  the  King  ! 
"  O'er  him  thine  arm  extend, 
"  For  Britain's  sake  defend 
*f  Qur  Father,  Prince,  and  Friend: 

'«  God  save  the  King!" 

Thii  stanza  gave  the  audience  peculiar  pleasure,  and  was 
encored  bv  the  eager  desire  of  the  whole  house. 

Next  day  the  Privy  Council  sat  on  the  further  examination  of 
this  man's  conduct.  Several  of  the  prisoner's  shopmates  were 
examined,  the  tendency  of  whose  evidence  showed  that  he  wa| 
jnsane.     He  told  his  wife  iuid  ethers,  that,  on  Tuesday  last,  he  wet 


INTRODUCTION.  lvii 

a  man  who  assured  him  that  he  had  had  Jesus  Christ  in  keeping 
live  years,  in  Mount  Sion,  and  that  he  was  soon  to  visit  this  world. 
This  man  was  one  I  ruelock,  a  cobier,  at  Islington.  He  was  taken 
before  the  Privy  Council  that  day,  and  was  much  possessed  with  an 
opinion  of  the  speedy  return  of  our  Saviour.  V\  ith  this  idea  he 
had  possess<  d  the  prisoner  also.  Both  seemed  to  be  fanatically  mad. 
At  die  Privy  Council  also  appeared,  and  were  examined,  the 
adjutaut,  and  one  of  the  captains  of  the  loth  light  dragoons,  who 
said  the  prisoner  had  been  considered  as  insane;  otherwise  he  was 
a  brave  good  man,  and  much  beloved  by  the  regiment.  About 
three  mouths  before,  he  went  down  to  Croydon,  to  seethe  regiment; 
and,  while  there,  was  taken  so  ill,  that  it  was  necessary  to  put  him 
in  a  strait  waistcoat.  They  wondered  he  had  not  since  been  taken 
care  of  a-=  a  madman. — It  is  remarkable,  that  he  was  the  first  per- 
son who  had  that  night  gained  admission  into  the  pit.  On  search* 
ing  the  King's  box  and  the  orchestra,  for  the  ball  discharged  from 
the  pistol,  a  slug  was  found  by  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  in  the  cor- 
nice of  the  royal  box,  eighteen  inches  only  ab  >ve  where  His 
Majesty  stood  ;  and  in  the  orchestra  below,  a  flattened  and 
irregular  piece  of  lead  was  found,  supposed  to  have  recoiled  from 
the  place  where  it  struck. 

Hadfield  was  committed  to  Newgate,  and  tried  at  bar,  in  the 
Court  of  King's  Bench,  June  26,  on  a  charge  of  high  treason; 
but  the  jury  found  the  prisoner  "  Not  Guilty;  being  under  the 
"  influence  of  insanity  when  the  action  was  done." 

Previous  to  the  opening  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  for  the  sea- 
son 1800- 1,  the  performers  received  an  official  notice  from  Mr. 
Hughes,  the  treasurer,  stating  ",  that  in  future  the  charge  of  the 
"  benefit  would  be  1()0/.  exclusive  of  the  usual  charge  of  super- 
"  numeraries."  On  the  opening  of  the  season  they  found  that  the 
use  of  their  orders  had  been  restrained  in  a  very  unusual  manner; 
and  that  a  number  of  new  restrictions,  individually  of  a  trivial 
nature,  hud  taken  place: — a  committee  of  eight  persons  was  there- 
fore appointed  to  wait  on  Mr.  Harris,  and  communicate  to  him 
the  sentiments  of  the  majority  of  tie  performers,  who  wished  such 
arrangements  might  be  made,  as  to  prevent  all  future  difference  of 
sentiment  between  the  proprietors  and  performers.  Their  letter 
seemed  chiefly  to  object  to  the  additional  charge  of  $0'.  on  benefit- 
nights  ;  and  to  the  fine  of  30/.  on  the  refusal  of  a  character.— 
The  memoranda  were  signed  by  Messrs.  Munden,  J.  John- 
stone, Incledon,  Pope,  Fawcett,  Hoi  man,  H.  Johnston,  and 
Knight.- — In  reply,  Mr.  Harris  contended  that  orders  were  a  gra- 
tuitous indulgence  on  the  part  of  the  managers  ;  but  his  opponents 
insisted,  that  he  had  formerly  admitted  them  to  be  the  privilege  of 
the  actors :  he  acknowledged,  however,  a  disposition  to  make  that 
indulgence  as  accommodating  as  possible.  The  charge  on  bene* 
vol,  t.  e 


IKS  INTRODUCTION. 

fit-nights,  the  proprietors  argued,  had  ever  been  regulated  by  the 
actual  expenditure  of  each  night  of  performance,  and  the  present 
charge  was  much  under  the  nightly  expense :  the  enlargement  of 
the  Theatre,  and  the  advancement  of  ihe  price,  were  said  to  be 
much  more  than  an  equivalent  to  the  performers  for  the  unavoid- 
able increased  charge  :  and  that  the  fine  for  refusing  a  character 
had  been  established  two  seasons  ago,  without  a  murmur,  and  had 
proved  of.  such  efficacy,  that  not  a  single  fine  had  been  imposed 
since  the  new  regulation.  The  treasurer  stated  also,  that  on  an 
accurate  calculation,  he  found  that  the  nightly  expenses  very  con- 
siderably exceeded  the  sum  of  \60/. —  in  a  subsequent  letter,  ad- 
dressed to  ihe- eight  performers  by  Mr.  Hughes,  he  reduces  the 
question  to  this  simple  ground  :  "  Whether  the  Theatre  shall  be 
"  governed  and  controlled  by  eight  perform  ws,  each  of  them  receive 
"  mg,  hi  one  season,  on  an  average,  7^0i?.  per  annum,  exclusive  of 
"  his  summer  and  other  private  emoluments,  sick  or  well,  act  or 
"  not  act,  without  risk  of  any  sort?"  or  "  Whether  the  managef- 
"  Blent,  'with  all  its  detailed  regulations,  shall  remain  with  the  pro- 
"  prietors,  whose  profits  depend  altogether  on  conduct,  good  for- 
"  tune,  and  the  favour  of  the  public  :"' 

A  second  negotiation  ^^as  opened  by  Mr.  Lewis,  in  the  month 
of  January;  and  Mr.  Cumberland  undertook  to  become  a  media- 
tor; but  nothing  was  effected  towards  a  pacification  ;  and  the  per- 
formers at  length  resolved  on  laying  their  case  before  the  public, 
in  a  pamphlet,  written  by  Mr.  Holman,  in  which  they  very  fully 
entered  into  the  subject. 

For  several  weeks  this  theatrical  dispute  was  the  topic  of 
general  discussion,  in  which  both  parties  had  their  friends  and 
advocates.  At  length  it  was  agreed  by  the  persons  concerned,  to 
leave  the  subject  to  the  decision  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  with- 
out any  further  appeal.  His  Lordship  entered  into  the  merits  of 
the  question,  arid  gave  his  verdict  in  favour  of  the  Manager. 
Messrs.  Pope  and  Holman  left  the  Theatre  at  the  expiration  of 
their  respective  articles ;  the  other  six  performers  were  imme- 
diately reconciled  to  Mr.  Harris,  and  the  business  of  the  Theatre 
went  en  without  any  further  interruption. 

The  31st  of  October  1800  ushered  Mr.  George  Frederic 
Cooke  to  a  London  audience,  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  in  the 
character  of  Richard  the  Third.  He  has  since  played  Shylock, 
Kitely,  the  Stranger,,  and  many  other  characters  ;  but  in  tragedy 
we  consider  fago  as  one  of  his  best  performances :  the  public,  how- 
ever, is  in  the  highest  degree  indebted  to  him  for  having  restored 
to  the  stage,  with  full  effect,  Macklin's  two  Scotch  characters  of 
Sir  Archy  M*Sarcasm  and  Sir  Pertinax  M'Sycophant,  which  had 
nearly  been  lost.     These  he  delineates  most  admirably. 


INTRODUCTION.  li* 

On  the  24th  of  May  1802,  Mr.  King,, of  Dniry  Lane  Theatre, 
took  leave  of  the  stage.     See  j>.  4.38,  oi  this  volume. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the.  (lay  market  performances  in  1802, Mr. 
Col  man  gave  notice,  that  on"*;iccoi!it  of  the  winter  .Theatres 
having-  ©f  late  years  extended  their  seasons  to  an  unusually  late; 
period,  he  must,  at  Ins  next  opening,  Request  4nd«lgence  for  the 
best  company  that  he  could  possibly  s  lect.froan  provincial  The- 
atres. "  When  a  royal  patent,"  said  .Mr.  Fawcett,  who  delivered 
the  farewell  address,  "  was  about  to  be  grained  to  the  late  Mr. 
"  Foote,  it  was  inquired,  with  that  justice  which  characterizes 
"the  English  Throne,  what  annual  extent  of  term  iiighl  he 
"  allowed  him,  without  injur)  to  the  theatrical  potent)  .st- 

"  ing  in  this  metropolis.  The  proprietors  of  the  winter  Th  aires 
"  were  interrogated  on  this  point ;  a^d  in  consequence  ot  dieir 
"  documents,  a  patent  was  granted  to  Foote,  for  his  life,  to  open 
"  a  Theatre  annually,  from  the  1.3th  Ma\  to  the  loih  of  Septera- 
"  ber  jaclusive. 

"  The  winter  houses  never  closed  precisely  on  the  commence- 
"  nient  of  his  term — but  Foote  was  unique,  and  depended,  chiefly, 
"  on  his  own  writing  and  his  own  acting.  A  license  was  given  to 
"  the  elder  Colman,  for  t  ha  same  annual  term,  on  Foote 's  death: 
"  but  aware  that  he  could  not,  like  his  singularly-gifted  predecessor, 
"  depend  on  his  own  individual  powers,  he  engaged  a  regular 
"  company  of  comedians,  chiefly  selected  from  the  winter  The- 
"  ntres,  for  whose  assistance /<e  zcas  obliged  to  wait  till  those 
"  Theatres  closed. 

"  He  ventured,  in  every  shape,  very  deeply  on  a  limited  privilege, 
"  which  this  mode  of  speculation  rendered  still. more  limited. 

"  The  younger  Colman,  our  present  proprietor,  succeeded  his 
"  father  in  the  license,  hut  bought  the  property,  'at  the  expense  of 
"  several  thousand  pounds  ;  and  thus  came  into  a  Theatre,  where 
"  the  custom  of  depending  on  the  movements  of  the  winter  houses 
"  has  now  curtailed  its  short  season  of  neart'i/  one  third. 

"  'ihe  object  at  length  in  view  is,  to  remedy  the  evil,  without 
"  invidious  and  vain  attempts  to  attack  much  more  powerful 
"  Theatres,  who  have  an  undoubted  privilege  of  acting  plays  all 
"  the  year  round.  The  proprietor  has  no  intention  of  tiring  the 
"  public  ear  by  a  querulous  appeal;  he  admits  that  others  have 
"  the  fullest  right  to  make  their  property  as  productive  as  possible: 
"  lie  wishes  merely  to  follow  their  example,  and  solicits  your 
"  support  in  his  efforts  for  establishing  a  company  of  actors,  totally 
"  independent  of  them.  There  are  but  three  houses  permitted 
"  to  give  you  regular  batches  of  plays  in  London  ;  and  this  house 
"  (by  far  the  most  humble)  sees  no  reason,  when  they  will  bt  all 
"  making  their  bread,  on  the  1 5th  of  next  May,  why  even  three 
"  of  a  trade  should  not  perfectly  agree* 

«  9 


lx  INTRODUCTION. 

"  Should  his  arrangements  succeed,  which  are,  even  at  this 
"  early  pciiod,  actively  forming,  you  will  (on  the  re-opening  or* 
**  the  iheatre)  greet  the  return  to  London  of  some  favourites, 
"  who,  it  is  trusted,  will  £ud  no  diminution  of  your  protection: — 
"  you  will  witness  new  and  rising  merit,  which  it  is  your  marked 
"  practice  to  foster,  There  is  no  theatrical  town  in  the  United 
"  Kingdom  which  will  not  be  resorted  to,  in  the  hope  of  pro- 
"  curing  you  its  choicest  produce: — and,  in  addition  to  other  au- 
'*  thors,  you  will  be  entreated,  early  in  the  season,  to  show  your 
"  indulgence  to  the  proprietor's  further  attempts  at  dramatic 
"composition;  whose  pen,  he  humbly  hopes,  notwithstanding 
"  the  long  duration  of  your  encouragement,  is  not  yet  quite  worn 
"  out  in  your  service." 

"I  las  statement  was  received  throughout  with  frequent  marks  of 
approbation  ;  and  concluded  amidst  loud  and  continued  applause. 
Accordingly,  on  the  16th  of  May  J 80.3,  Mr.  Column  opened 
with  a  new  company,  almost  exclusively  strangers  to  the  London 
boards.  1  he  performances  were,  a  prelude,  called  iVo  Prelude! 
with  The  Jew,  and  The  Agreeable  Surprise.  The  new  actors 
and  actresses  possessed  various  degrees  of  merit;  but  we  do  not 
recollect  that  more  than  one  of  the  number  made  any  permanent 
impression  on  the  public  mind :  that  one  was  Mr.  Matthews, 
from  the  York  Theatre,  who  enacted  Jabel  in  the  comedy,  and 
lingo  in  the  farce ;  and  exhibited  such  talents  as  at  once  esta- 
blished bim  a  favourite  with  the  town.  It  would  appear,  that  Their 
Majesties  took  an  interest  in  Mr.  Colman's  scheme  of  an  inde- 
pendent company ;  for  the  performances  of  the  first  night  were 
repeated  on  the  second,  by  the  royal  command ;  and,  within  a 
fortnight  after,  the  royal  visits  to  the  Theatre  had  been  thrice  re- 
peated ;  though  nine  jears  had  elapsed  since  Uiat  Theatre  had  been 
so  honoured. — We  suppose,  however,  that  either  the  performers 
on  the  whole  did  not  please  the  public,  or  that  such  as  were  to- 
lerable procured  engagements  in  the  winter  Theatres  ;  but  cer- 
tain it  is,  that  after  that  season  the  plan  was  abandoned,  and  the 
Hayniarket  manager  again  awaited  the  breaking-up  of  the  winter 
companies,  from  which  to  form  his  own  *. 

On  the  i2th  of  September  1803,  Covent  Garden  Theatre 
opened  under  the  stage-management  of  Mr.  Kemble,  who  had 
recently  purchased,  for  24,000/.  a  sixth  share  of  the  concern. 

At  the  termination  of  the  Haymarket  season,  in  1S04,  Mr. 
Colman  intimating  a  design  to  dispose  of  half  the  property  of  the 
Theatre,  Mr.  Winston,  a  gentleman  of  fortune,  became  a  purchaser 
of  it,  in  conjunction  with  Mr.  Morris,  brother-in-law  to  Mr. 
Colman. 

*  The  independent  plan,  however,  appears  to  have  been  in  great  measure  again 
tesorted  to  this  season  (1811) :  with  what  success,  the  treasurer  and  the  proprietors 
fe§si  know. 


INTRODUCTION.  lxi 

The  first  of  December  of  this  year  will  form  a  kind  of  era  in 
the  history  of  the  British  Stage,  as  having  brought  before  a  London 
audience  a  juvenile  actor,  of  very  extraordinary  acquirements,  at  Co- 
vent  Garden  Theatre,  as  Achmet,  in  Barbarossa:  we  mean  Master 
William  Henry  West  Betty,  who  had  but  just  attained  his  thirteenth 
year,  but  had,  in  his  previous  provincial  course,  obtained  the  im- 
posing name  of  the  Young  Roscius.  Ihe  eagerness  of  the  public 
to  see  this  phenomenon  was  such,  that  three  Theatres  mi«ht  have 
been  filled  by  the  crowd  that  sought  admission  thN  evening  ;  and 
many  very  serious  accidents  happened  to  various  individuals,  by 
reason  of  the  pressure  at  the  different  doors.  His  attraction  was 
such,  that  he  was  soon  engaged  to  perform,  alternately,  at  Drury 
Lane  and  Covent  Garden ;  at  the  former  of  which,  the  bills  always 
announced  him  as  the  Young  Roscius;  at  the  latter,  without  any 
such  quackery,  as  Master  Betty.  It  were  wholly  incompatible 
with  the  design  of  this  brief  sketch  to  enter  at  large  on  the  per- 
formances of  this  young  actor,  whose  company  was  courted  by 
noble  lords,  who  was  kissed  and  caressed  by  noble  dames,  and 
Avho  had  even  the  honour  of  being  introduced  to  His  Grace  the 
venerable  Archbishop  of  York.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  he  after- 
w-ards  performed  Richard,  Hamlet,  Macbeth.  Octavian,  Romeo, 
Gustavus  Vasa,  Tancred,  Osmyn,  Orestes,  Zanga,  and  several 
other  first-rate  characters,  with  various  degrees  of  merit,  but  with 
astonishing  success ;  receiving  50/.  and,  latterly,  it  is  said,  100/. 
per  night  for  his  performances.  Master  Betty  took  his  final  leave 
of  the  public,  with  a  beneiit  at  Drury  Lane,  May  i7,  180vi,  after 
playing  Tancred  and  Captain  £la*h. 

The  over-2ealous  friends  of  this  young  gentleman  claimed  for 
him  the  very  highest  rank  as  an  efficient  actor:  his  violent  oppo- 
nents decried  him  without  any  discrimination ;  but  est  modus  in 
rebiii.  The  truth  is,  that,  as  a  boy,  he  exhibited  wonderful  ta- 
lents ;  but  with  this  praise  his  friends  ought  to  have  been  satisti'  d  ; 
for  he  was  not,  he  could  not  be,  an  efficient  nctor:  could  any  one 
among  the  audience  be  for  a  moment  persuaded  of  the  'entity  of 
the  scenes  enacted,  when  he  saw  a  boy  of  thirteen  or  foui  t<  en  (ton- 
sorted  with  men  and  women  of  from  twenty-five  to  sixty  years  of 
age"*  supporting  such  characters  as  Zan^a,  i  iustuvus  Vasa,  Richard 
the  Third,  Orestes,  and  Macbeth  ?  Surprise  at  such  a  precocity  of 
talent  as  he  exhibited,  might  and  must  be  excited ;  but  to  be 
affected  by,  or  interested  in,  the  parsing  scenes,  was  impossible. 

A  circumstance  which  we  are  now  about  to  relate  tefidid,  we 
think,  in  a  great  degree,  to  cure  the  mama  wh  eh  had  prevailed  for 
some  time  in  favour  of  acting  children.  On  the  25:\  >t  November 
1805,  a  Miss  Mudie,  called  ikt  Theatrical  Phemnienoti  a 
child  apparently  about  fight  years  old,  but  with  j  figure  petite 
even  for  that  age,  who  had  played,  the  preceding  season,  the  iirsV 

e  3 


hii  INTRODUCTION. 

rate  comic  characters  at  Birmingham,  Liverpool,  Dublin,  and 
other  Theatres!!  made  her  debut  at  Coveut  Garden!!!  as  Miss 
Peggy j  in  Tue  Country  Girl.  It  is  true,  she  repeated  the  words 
of  the  part  correctly:,  her  deportment  was  confident,  unembar- 
rassed, and  sprightly;  her  voice,  for  her  age,  powerful :  and  her 
acting  evinced  intelligence  and  industry,  in  short,  considering 
her  performance  as  that  of  an  infant,  it  was  surprising;  but  re- 
garding it  as  a  dramatic  personification,  it  was-in  the  highest 
degree- contemptible. 

in  the  first  scene,  the  sense  of  the  house  was  good-naturedly 
expressed;  for  when  Moody  promised  "  to  send  her  back  into  the 
"  country,"  the  audience  very  cordially  expressed   their  concur- 
rence by  loud  appladse.     In  the  succeeding  .sceues  they  were  less 
equivocal;  for  when  she  came  to  be  talked  of  as  a  wife,  as  a 
t&istress,  as  an  object.oj  love  and  jealousy,  the  scene  became  so 
ridiculous,  that  hissing  and  horse-laughing  ensued.    The  little  child 
was  also  contrasted  with   the  fine  person  of  Miss  Brunton,  now 
Countess  ot  Craven  (Alithea),  with  a  plume  of  three  upright  ostrich 
feathers  on  ht  r  head,  the  whole  constituting  a  figure  nearly  seven  feet 
high.  When  Peggy  was  with  her  guardian,  Mr.  Murray,  no  very  tall 
j33iin,  she  did  not  reach  much  higher  than  his  knee  ;  he  was  obliged 
to  sto  p  even  to  lay  his  hand  on  her  head  ;  to  bend  himself  double 
to  kiss  her ;  and  where  she  had  to  lay  hold  of  his  neckcloth  to  coax 
him,  and  pat  his  cheek,  he  was  obliged  to  go  almost  on  all-fours. 
In  the  third  act,  Miss  Peggy  is  seen  walking  in  the  park,  dressed  in 
boy's  c'othes,  under  the  care  of  her  jealous  guardian.  .Miss  Mudie, 
instead  of  appearing  a  fine  young  man  who  ought  to  be  '*■  shown  the 
"  town,"  looked  shorter  than  before,  and  even  too  little  to  be  safely 
put  into  breeches.     Yet  Mr.  Brunton,  as  her  lover  Belville,  pur- 
sued her,  and  was  transported  to  find  her  under  this  disguise  ;   and 
Mr.  Murray,  her  pretended  husband,  was  thrown  into  an  agony  of 
despair  ut  the  idea  of  another  man  taking  her  by  the  hand.     The 
absurdity  was  too  great  to  be  endured  ;  and  there  was  a  burst  of 
censure  from  all  parts  of  the  house.    At  last  Mr.  Charles  Kemble, 
as  Harcourt,   exclaimed — "  Let  me  introduce  you,   nephew;  you 
u  should  know  each  other;   t/ori  in e  veiy  /ike,  andjrf  THE  same 
"  age."     It  was  all  over  after  this;  for  the  whole  effect  was  so 
out  of  nature,  so  very  ludicrous,  that  the  audience  soon  decided 
against  Miss  Mudie.     At  first,  they  had  not  hissed  when  she  was 
on  the  stage',  from  delicacy ;  but  in  her  absence  hissed  the  per- 
formance, to  stop  the  play,  if  possible.     But  as  she  persevered 
confidently    they  at  length  hissed  her,  and  called  vehemently  Off  J 
Off!     Miss  Mudie  was  not,  however,  without  a  strong  party  of 
J urn- 'em-outs,  to  support  her;  but  the  noise  increased  to  such  a 
decree  in  the  latter  scenes,  that  not  a  word  could  be  heard ;  on 
v.hich  Miss  Mudie  (who  had  hitherto  appeared  entirely  occupied 


INTRODUCTION.  kin 

with  the  business  of  the  scene,  and  whose  energy  had  not  been  in 
the  least  damped  by  the  marked  disapprobation  of  the  house) 
walked  to  the  front  of  the  stage,  with  great  confidence  and  compo- 
sure, though  not  without  some  signs  of  indignation,  and  said, 
"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, 
"  I  have  done  nothing  to  offend  you  ;  and  as  for  those  who  are 
"  sent  here  to  hiss  me,  I  will  be  much  obliged  to  you  to  turn  them 
«  out." 

This  bold  speech  from  such  a  ba bu  astonished  the  audience : 
some  roared  with  laughter,  some  hissed,  others  called  Off!  Off! 
and  many  applauded.  Miss  Mudie  did  not  appear  to  be  in  the 
slightest  degree  chagrined  or  embarrassed,  but  went  on  with  the 
scene  as  if  she  had  beeu  completely  successful.  At  the  end  of  it, 
the  uproar  was  considerable;  and  a  foud  cry  arising  of  Manager! 
Manager!  Mr.  Kembie  came  forward,  and  said, 
"  Gentlemen, 
"  The  great  applause  with  which  Miss  Mudie  has  been  received 
"  at  various  provincial  Theatres,  encouraged  in" her  friends  a  hope 
"  that  her  merit  might  be  such  as  to  pass  the  tribunal  of  your  judg- 
"  ment. — (Violent  hissing.) — Be  assured,  however,  Gentlemen, 
"  that  the  proprietors  of  this  Theatre  by  no  means  wish  to  press 
"  any  species  of  entertainment  upon  you  which  may  not  meet  your 
"most  perfect  approbation.—  (  Loud  applause.) — If,   therefore, 

"  you  will  permit  Miss  Mudie "     (  No.!    No!) 

Mr.  Kembie  could  not  be  heard  for  some  time:  but  at  last 
neatly  resumed — 

*'  The  drama's  laws,  the  drama's  patrons  give  !" 

"  We  hope,  however,  that  as  the  play  has  proceeded  so  far,  you 
f*  will  allow  Miss  Mudie  to  finish  the  character." 

"  No!   ~So!"  was  vociferated  from  various  parts  of  the  house. 

Finding  this  of  no  avail,  Mr.  Kembie  tried  his  success  with  the 
female  part  of  the  assemblage,  by  saying  with  emphasis, 
"  Ladies  and  Gentle//, en, 

"  Let  me  entreat  that  you  will  allow  Miss  Mudie  to  finish  her 
"part.  Perhaps,  when  sou  are  informed,  that,  after  this  night, 
"  Miss  Mudie  will  be  withdrawn  from  the  stage,  you  will  be  in^ 
"  chiced  to  comply." 

This  last  appeal  seemed  to  produce  the  desired  effect ;  but  the 
calm  was  deceitful ;  for,  upon  the  next  appearance  of  the  child, 
the  uproar  broke  out  with  such  violence,  tha'  she  was  compelled 
to  retire.  Mr.  Murray  -then  came  forward,  and  requested  to  be 
beard  for  a  few  words,  which  he  delivered  as  follows  : 
"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, 

il  If  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  allow  us  to  trespass  upon 
"  your  patience  five  minutes,  M  ss  dearie,  with  your  indulgence, 

«4 


Ixiv  INTRODUCTION. 

"  will  play  Miss  Mudie's  part  from  the  commencement  of  the  fifth 
"  act." 

Order  was  again  restored  :  but,  upon  the  appearance  of  Miss 
Searle,  hostilities  were  ungenerously  renewed  between  the  parti- 
sans of  Miss  Mudie  and  the  jlnti-lloscitDtiles.  AW  "was  noise 
and  confusion.  When  it  was  found  that  any  fui thei  interference 
would  but  "  more  embroil  the  fray,"  the  remainder  of  the  comedy 
was  converted  into  pantomimic  show,  not  a  word  being  heard; 
and  the  curtain  fell  on  the  most  imp<  rfect  performance  ever  before 
witnessed  on  a  London  stage. 

ri  his  child,  it  was  said,  had  met  with  great  success  at  the  pro- 
vincial Theatres,  and  even  in  the  great  metropolis  of  Dublin. 
When  her  friends,  therefore,  applied  to  the  managers  at  Coveut 
Garden  to  exhibit  her  talents,  though  we  have  not  a  doubt  that 
those  gentlemen  saw  the  absurdity  in  its  true  light ;  vet  they  might 
well  be  apprehensive,  that  if  they  rejected  the  application,  an  in- 
vidious turn  might  have  been  given  to  their  refusal ;  as  if  an  undue 
parsimony  had  induced  them  to  withhold  from  the  public  ex- 
hibitions that  had  greatly  excited  and  would  amply  gratify  cu- 
riosity :  and  though  it  is  certain,  that  the  respectability  of  the 
actor's  profession  should  not  be  lightly,  compromised;  yet  much 
allowance  must  be  made  for  the  anxiety  of  managers  to  meet  the 
wishes,  and  even  to  gratify  the  caprice,  of  their  patrons ;  their 
apology,  however,  will  not  be  so  well  made  by  us,  as  it  has  al- 
ready been  by  the  Leviathan  of  British  literature,  in  the  follow- 
ing lines  of  a  prologue  on  the  opening  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre, 
Sept.  20,  1747  : 

'*  Hard  is  his  lot,  that,  here  by  fortune  plac'd, 

*'  Must  watch  the  wild  vicissitudes  of  taste; 

"  With  every  meteor  of  caprice  must  play, 

"  And  chase  the  new-blown  bubbles  of  the  day. 

"  Ah  !  let  not  censure  term  our  fate  our  choice  ; 

"  The  stage  brt  echoes  back  the  public  voice  : 

"  The  drama's  laws,  the  drama's  patrons  give  ; 

"  For  we,  that  live  to  please,  must  please  to  live. 

','  Then  prompt  no  more  the  follies  you  decry, 

"  As  tyrants  doom  their  tools  of  guilt  to  die." 

The  months  of  May  and  June  1808  were  destined  to  deprive 
the  lovers  of  good  acting  of  two  very  deserving  female  favourites  : 
Miss  Pope,  of  Brun  Lane  Theatre,  on  the  26th  of  Mav,  and 
Mrs.  Mattocks,  of  Covent  Garden,  on  the  7th  of  June,  bade 
farewell  to  the  public  ;  the  former  after  a  service  of  more  than 
half  a  century  in  the  same  company ;  the  latter  after  a  theatrical 
life  of  nearly  sixty  years  ! 

A  sad  fatality  awaited  the  opening  of  the  winter  season  of 
1808-0 ;  for,  about  four  in  the  morning  of  the  20lh  of  September, 


INTRODUCTION.  \xw 

a  fire  was  discovered  to  have  broken  out  in  Covent  Garden  The- 
atre ;  and  so  tierce  and  rap)d  was  its  course,  that  in  less  than  three 
hours  the  whole  of  the  interior  was  destroyed.  The  loss  of  pro- 
pert)  ,  belonging  both  to  the  pioprietors  and  to  individuals  em- 
pl»ved  in  the  concern,  mav  be  conceived  to  have  been  very  great ; 
but  the  most  nielaiiehoK  part  of  the  catastrophe  was,  the  destruc- 
tion of  about  twenty  lives,  by  the  unexpected  falling-in  of  the 
/.polio  room,  near  the  Piazza  door. 

In  this  exigency,  Mr.  Taylor,  of  the  Opera  House,  with  great 
liberality,  proffered  the  use  of  that  theatre  to  Messrs.  Harris  and 
Ivemble  ;  and  on  the  26th  the  Covent  Garden  company  com- 
menced their  r.peralions  there  with  Doug/as  and  lioxintt. 

Measures,  however,  were  immediately  concerted  for  erecting  a 
new  theatre  on  the  site  of  that  which  had  thus  fallen  a  prey  to  the 
devoir i..g  element;  and  tins  bask  was  assigned  to  Robert  Smirke, 
jun.  Esq.  as  architect,  and  Mr.  Copland  as  builder.  In  order  to 
defray,  in  part,  the  great  expense  attached  t<>  such  an  undertaking, 
it  was  proposed  to  raise  the  sum  of  .50,000/.  by  subscription,  in 
shares  of  500/.  each,  under  the  immediate  patronage  of  Lis  Ma- 
jesty ;  each  of  the  subscribers  to  receive  (clear  of  the  property- 
tax,  and  all  other  charges  and  outgoings  whatsoever)  an  annuity 
of  0.51.  to  commence  from  the  opening  of  the  said  new  theatre, 
and  to  continue  for  the  term  of  eighty-five  years  (being  the  remain- 
ing term  of  the  lease,  and  of  all  the  premises),  with  the  addition  of 
an  annual  transferable  free  admission  to  any  part  of  the  theatre  be- 
fore the  curtain  (private  boxes  excepted);  for  which  the  sub- 
scribers would  be stcured  by  the  patent,  and  the  new  theatre  with 
the  scenery,  machinery,  and  all  other  property  therein  contained.-— 
Among  the  first  subscribers  were,  Their  Royal  Highnesses  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  Duke  of  York,  Duke  of  Cumberland,  and  Duke 
of  Cambridge;  His  Grace  the  Duke  of  Bedford;  the  Marquis 
of  Salisbui)  ;  the  Earl  of  Dartmouth  (Lord  Chamberlain);  the 
Earl  of  Gundhud;  Earl  Cholmondeiey  ;  Lord  Viscount  Mount- 
joy;  Sir  Francis  Bui  geois,  Bait.;  Lieutenant-colonel  Co'ikson  ; 
Francis  Freeling,  Esq.;  Colonel  OXelly;  General  Keppel ; 
William  Garrow,  ai;d  J.  J.  A'.g  jrsU  in,  Esqrs.  The  subscription 
was  completely  filled  in  a  very  few  days. 

i  he  foundation-stone  of  the  new  structure  received  the  high 
honour  of  being  laid,  on  the  :31st  of  December,  by  His  Royal 
Highness  the  Prince  or  Wales  in  nerson,  as  Grand  Master  of  the 
Fre<  masons  of  Great  Britain,  attended  by  the  Grand  Lodge  in 
ample  form.  A  spectacle  like  this  is  of  such  rare  occurrence, 
that  we  may  perhaps  be  expected  lo  depart,  in  ice  present  instance, 
from  the  rigid  brevity  of  the  p  ecedhig  abstract,  and  to  enter  a  little 
into  the  detail. 

Preparatory  to  the  cereiaony;jaa  extensive  range  of  temporary 


Ixviii  INTRODUCTION. 

silver,  and  copper  coins  of  the  present  reign.  On  a  pari  of  the 
stone  was  "  Long  live  George  Prince  of  Wales,"  and  "  To  the 
"  Kino  ;"  with  a  medallion  of  the  Prince.  There  Were  also  de- 
posited two  large  medals;  one  of  bronze,  bearing  a  head  of  His 
Roval  Highness  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  the  following  in- 
tcription  : 

GEORGIUS. 

PRINCEPS  WALLIARUM. 

THEATRE 

REGIS  INSTAURANDI  AUSPICIIS. 

IN  HORTIS  BENEDICTINIS. 

LONDINI. 

FUNDAMENTA. 

Sua   manu  Locavit. 

M.DCCC.VIII. 

Th«  other  medal,  engraved  on  copper,  bore,  on  one  side,  this 
inscription  : 

Under  the  Auspices  of 

His  Most  Sacred  Majesty  GEORGE  III. 

King  of  the  United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland* 

The  Foundation-stone  of  the  Theatre, 

Covent  Garden, 

Was  laid  by  His  Royal  Highness 

GEORGE  PRINCE  OF  WALES, 

M.DCCC.VIII. 

On  the  reverse  was  engraven— 

ROBERT  SMIRKE,  Architect 

His  Royal  Highness  now,  as  Grand  Master,  finished  the  ad- 
justment of  the  mortar  with  his  trowel ;  when  the  upper  stone 
was  lowered  in  the  simg  to  its  destined  position ;  all  the  bauds 
playing  '<  Rule  Britannia,"  a  charge  of  artillery  being  fired,  and 
the  people  with  the  most  animating  cheers  applauding  the  spec- 
tacle. The  junior  and  senior  Grand  Wardens,  and  the  acting 
Grand  Master,  the  Earl  of  Moira,  now  severally  presented  His 
Roval  Highness  with  the  plumb ,  the  level,  and  the  square;  and 
the  Prince,  having  applied  them  to  the  fabric,  and  pronounced 
the  work  correct,  gave  the  stone  three  strokes  with  his  mallet. 

Three  elegant  silver  cups  were  then  presented  successively  to  His 
Royal  Highness,  containing  corn,  wine,and  oil,  which  he  scattered  and 
poured  over  the  surface  of  the  stone ;  all  the  bands  playing  "  God 
u  save  the  King."  His  Royal  Highness  then  restored  the  plan  of 
the  building  into  the  hands  of  the  architect,  approving  that  speci- 
men of  lus  genius,  and  desiring  him  to  complete  the  structure 
conformably  thereto  :  then  graciously  turning  to  Mr.  Harris  and 
Mr.  Kemble,  he  wished  prosperity  to  the  building,  and  th«  ob~ 


INTRODUCTION.  hh 

jects  connected  with  it ;  and  success  and  happiness  to  its  proprie- 
tors and  managers. 

rlhe  ceremony  being  finished,  the  band  played  "  Rule  Britan- 
"  nia;'  and  the  Prince,  the  Duke  of  Sussex,  and  the  Earl  of 
Moira,  were  escorted  back  to  the  Prince's  carnage  by  the  ma- 
nagers and  the  grand  officers,  under  a  second  royal  salute  of 
twenty-one  guns. 

Thus  endeda  ceremonial,  which,  by  the  excellent  pre-arrangement 
of  its  managers,  and  the  graceful  yet  dignified  manner  in  which  the 
illustrious  chief  actor  performed  his  part,  exhibited  an  interesting 
spectacle,  that  excited  general  admiration  and  applause  ;  and  ail 
who  had  the  honour  to  approach  the  Prince  spoke  in  raptures  of 
his  polite  and  captivating  manners  on  the  occasion.  Although  the 
neighbouring  houses  were  covered  to  the  roof-tops,  and  many 
thousands  ot  people  were  assembled  in  the  streets,  not  a  single 
accident  happened  to  interrupt  so  splendid  a  termination  of  the  old 
year ! 

The  Masters  and  Wardens  of  the  Masonic  L<  dies  then  re- 
turned in  procession  to  their  Hall  in  Great  Queen  Street ;  and  the 
Grand  Lodge  was  closed,  after  making  a  formal  minute  of  the 
proceedings,  and  receiving,  through  the  medium  of  the  Grand 
Treasurer,  the  thanks  of  the  Prince  for  the  favour  of  their  at- 
tendance on  His  Royal  Highness. 

Messrs.  Harris  and  Kemble  afterwards  received  a  letter  from 
Colonel  M'Mahon,  dated  from  Carleton  House;  stating,  that  he 
had  it  in  command  from  His  Royal  Highness  the  Prince  of  Wales 
to  express  his  high  approbation  of  the  very  great  order  and  regu- 
larity with  which  the  whole  arrangement  of  the  ceremonial  had 
been  formed  and  conducted. 

By  a  very  extraordinary  fatality,  it  happened,  that  scarcely  had 
the  town-talk  respecting  the  foregoing  ceremony  ceased,  when  the 
magnificent  Theatre  in  Drury  Lane,  which  had  not  been  erected 
above  sixteen  years,  was  wholly  destroyed  by  a  fire,  which  broke 
out  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night  of  the  24th  of  February  1809; 
on  which  night  it  providentially  happened  that,  being  a  Friday  in 
Lent,  no  performance  had  taken  place,  or  the  consequences  might 
have  been  such  as  will  not  bear  contemplation.  Mr.  Sheridan 
was  in  the  House  of  Commons  when  he  received  the  first  intelli- 
gence of  this  fatal  event ;  and  though  he  was  evidently  much  af- 
fected by  the  shock  ;  yet  when,  with  a  generous  feeling,  it  was  ob- 
served by  Mr.  Elliot  and  Earl  Temple,  that  it  would  be  proper 
to  adjourn  a  debate  in  which  he  was  expected  to  take  a  part,  he 
summoned  fortitude  enough  to  say,  *f  that,  however  lamentable  the 
ff  event  might  be  as  to  himself,  he  thought  it  not  of  such  a  nature 
"  as  ought  to  interrupt  the  business  of  the  nation." 

The  Covent  Garden  company  having  removed  to  the  Little 


Txx  INTRODUCTION. 

Theatre  in  the  Upmarket,  which  they  opened  on  the  3th  of  De- 
cember 1808,  Mr.  Taylor,  or  the  Opera  House,  again  stepped 
forward,  and  generously  granted  the  use  of  his  Theatre  (gratis) 
to  the  now  unemployed  pel  formers  of  the  Druiy  Lane  company, 
for  their  own  benefits^  for  six  nights,  viz.  March  Kith,  20th,  and 
£3d;  Apiil  3d,  Oth,  and  10th.  On  the  11th  a  select  number  of 
the  company,  under  the  authority  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  opened 
the  little  Theatre  in  the  Lyceum  ;  where  they  have  since  continued 
to  perform  through  the  usual  winter  seasons. 

To  the  retirement  of  theatrical  favourites  from  the  stage,  we 
have  now  to  add  that  of  an  excellent  comedian,  Mr.  William 
Thomas  Lewis,  of  Covent  Garden,  who  quitted  the  boards  on 
the  29th  of  May  1809,  after  performing  the  Copper  Captain  in 
Mute  a  Wife  and  Have  a  Wife.  He  took  leave  of  the  public 
with  a  valedictory  address  :  in  which  he  was  enabled  to  say,  that, 
during  a  service  of  thirty-six  years  in  that  i  heatre,  he  had  never 
once  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  have  incurred  their  displeasure  *. 

The  2'ith  of  June  produced  a  theatrical  concern  on  a  new  plan  : 
the  Lyceum  Theatre  was  opened  by  permission  of  the  Lord 
Chamberlain, granted  to  Mr.  Samuel  James  Arnold,  for  the  novel 
put  pose  of  performing,  during  the  summer  seasons,  English  operas 
only ;  and  it  is  believed,  that  the  company  has  hitherto  been  to- 
leraLly  successful. 

We  have  now  reached  an  era  in  the  History  of  the  English 
Stage,  at  which  it  seems  proper  to  terminate  this  brief  sketch: 
we  mean  the  opening,  on  the  18th  of  September  1800,  of  the 
JNew  Theatre  Royal,  Covent  Garden;  which  had  arisen  from  the 
ground,  as  it  were  by  magic,  in  the  short  space  of  less  than  nine 
months,  at  an  expense  of  Li0,C00/. 

An  advance  in  the  prices  of  admission,  to  the  pit,  of  from  3s.  (id. 
to  4s. ;  and  to  the  boxes,  of  from  65.  to  7-^  ;  had  been  previously 
announced,  by  the  proprietors,  as  a  matter  to  which  they  had  been 
"  compelled  bv  absolute  necessity."  This  circumstance,  how- 
evei,  together  with  a  considerable  addition  to  the  former  number 
of  pnv'te  or  property  boxes,  gave  birth  to  such  a  riot  as  was  un- 
paralleled by  any  thing  before  recorded  in  the  annals  of  the 
drama  ;  but  into  the  particulars  of  which  we,  on.  many  accounts, 
forbear  to  enter  :  let  it  surfice  to  state,  that,  in  the  result,  an  ami- 
cable composition  was  made  between  the  managers  and  th  fir 
OPponemst;  the  number  of  private  boxes  was  reduced  to  that 
at  which  they  stood  in  1802,  being  three  on  each  side;  the  price 
of  admission  to  the  boxes  was  allowed  to  be  raised  to  Is.  but  that 
to  the  pit,  it  was  agreed,  should  remain  as  before. 
November  19,   1811. 

*  Mr.  Lewis  died  Jan.  13,   1 8 1 1 ,  in  the  dd  year  of  his  age. 
■f-  The-e  persons,  very  early  in  the  dispute,  aisumed  the  appellation  of  0.  jP.% 
as  au  a.bbicviiiu«i  of  snekkis  tor  Old  Prieis. 


INTRODUCTION.  text 

TO  the  foregoing  brief  Account  of  the  English  Theatre,  the  for- 
mer part  of  which,  it  is  but  justice  to  acknowledge,  is  chiefly 
extracted  from  the  Preface  to  Mr.  Dodsley's  Collection  of  Old 
Plays,  and  the  Supplement  added  to  it  in  the  year  1780;  it  may 
not  be  improper  to  subjoin  a  short  account  of  the  several  authors 
who  have  already  produced  works  of  the  present  kind. 

The  first  of  these  which  presents  itself,  is  a  List  printed  in  the 
year  UioG,  and"  prefixed  to  Goffe's  tragi-comedy  of  The  Careless 
Shepherdess,  by  the  booksellers  who  published  that  piece.  It 
contains  merely  a  catalogue  of  such  plays  as  were  tin  n  commonly 
sold,  without  specifying  either  the  dates  or  sizes  of  them.  This 
List  was  augmented  by  Francis  Kirkman,  a  bookseller,  in  lGfjl, 
with  the  same  defects  as  were  to  be  found  in  the  former. 

After  an  interval  of  sixteen  years,  Gerard  Langbaine,  son  of 
the  provost  of  Queen's  College,  Oxford,  produced  a  new  Cata- 
logue in  quarto,  to  which  he  gave  the  title  of  Momus  Triumphans. 
Mr.  Warton  observes  of  him,  that  "  he  was  first  placed  with  a 
u  bookseller  in  London  ;  but  at  sixteen  years  of  age,  in  lfiT'i,  h« 
"  became  a-gentleman-eommoner  of  University  College,  in  Oxford. 
"  Mis  literature  chiefly  consisted  in  a  knowledge  of  the  novels  and 
1  plays  of  various  languages  ;  and  he  was  a  constant  and  critical 
"  attendant  of  the  playhouses  many  years.  Retiring  to  Oxford  in 
"  the  year  1«>90,  he  died  the  next  year,  having  amassed  a  collec- 
"  tion  of  more  than  a  thousand  printed  plays,  masques,  and  inter- 
"  lude*."  Five  hundred  copies  of  his  pamphlet  being  quickly 
sold,  the  remainder  of  the  impression  appeared  next  year  with  an- 
other title,  viz.  A  new  Catalogue  of  English  Plai/s,  containing 
Comedies,  &c.  London,  4to.  1(588.  At  length  he  digested  his 
work  anew,  with  great  accessions  and  improvements,  which  he 
entitled  An  Account  of  the  Eligiish  Dramatick  Poets,  &c. 
Oxon.  8vo.  1691.  Of  the  several  Catalogues  of  the  English 
Stage,  Langbaine's  only  is  to  be  implicitly  relied  on  for  its 
fidelity.  Me  seems  to  have  been  scrupulously  exact  in  put- 
ting down  no  more  than  he  had  authority  for ;  and  had  he  been 
equally  diligent  in  inquiring  after  the  first  editions  of  the  several 
dramatic  pieces  then  extant,  his  work  would  have  been  more  use- 
ful to  the  public  ;  but  contenting  himself  with  such  copies  as  were 
in  his  possession,  he  has  been  the  means  of  introducing  the  greatest 
confusion  in  such  writers  as  have  heedlessly  quoted  him,  and 
thereby  occasioned  the  most  embarrassing  anachronisms  in  their 
compositions.  To  his  want  of  acquaintance  with  the  earliest 
editions  of  each  author,  it  may  be  ascribed,  that  he  chose  an  al- 
phabetical mode  of  arranging  the  works  of  the  several  writers. 
With  all  its-  faults,  however,  it  is  the  best  book  which  the  subject 
afforded ;  and  has  furnished  great  assistance  to  every  writer  who 
has  had  occasion  to  have  recourse  to  it. 

4 


lsxii  INTRODUCTION. 

To  Langbaine  succeeded  Mr.  Gildon,  whose  work,  entitled 
The  Lives  and  Characters  of  the  English  Dramatic  Poets,  &c. 
8vo.  was  printed  in  the  year  1699-  It  contains  little  more  than 
an  abstract  or  his  predecessor's  performance,  continued  to  the 
time  of  the  publication  of  his  own.  As  he  mentions  some 
writers  omitted  by  Langbaine,  his  Catalogue  has  also  been  ojf 
service  to  later  authors,  but  in  a  much  less  degree  than  die 
former. 

From  tills  time,  to  the  year  17 14,  no  list  of  plays  was  published ; 
but  at  that  period  Mr.  Mears,  a  bookseller,  printed  a  Catalogue, 
which  afterwards  was  continued  to  the  year  172G,  v. hen  it  was 
published  in  a  12mo.  volume.  It  was  calculated  only  tor  the  use 
of  his  shop,  and  is  defective,  from  the  frequent  want  of  dates,  and 
the  total  neglect  of  meuti  uing  the  sizes  of  each  performance.  In 
j 7<2-3  Giles  Jacob  gave  the  public  his  Poetical  liegistei  ;  or,  The 
Lives  and  Chaincters  of  ait  the  English  Poets,  zcth  an  Account 
of  their  Writings:  '2  vols.  8vo.  This  he  acknowledges  to  be 
founded  on  Langbaine's  work;  and,  with  respect  to  the  distribu- 
tion of  tiie  authors,  he  continued  it  in  the  same  alphabetical  mode. 
He  has,  however,  improved  it  in  one  particular,  by  placing  the 
performances  of  each  writer  in  their  proper  chronological  order. 
rl  hough  spoken  of  with  great  contempt  by  a  late  author,  it  must 
be  owned  that  he  is  generally  accurate  and  faithful,  and  affords 
much  information  to  those  who  have  occasion  to  consult  him.  It 
cannot  be  denied  that  he  possessed  very  small  abilities ;  but  he 
was  fully  equal  to  a  task  where  plodding  industry,  and  not  genius, 
must  be  dec  med  the  most  essential  qualification. 

In  1732  Mr.  Feales,  a  bookseller,  published  The  three  cele- 
brated Plays  oj  thai  excellent  Poet  ben  Jonson;  to  which  is 
adued,  A  complete  Catalogue  of  all  the  Plays  that  were  ever 
printed  in  the  hn  rlish  Language,  to  the  lear  1732.  This,  how- 
ever, is  oi  little  use  ;  as  it  neither  gives  dates,  sizes,  nor  authors' 
names. 

rlhe  next  compilation  which  appeared  was  a  posthumous  per- 
formance, called  A  List  of  all  the  Dramatic  Authors,  with  some 
Account  of  their  Lives;  and  of  all  the  Dramatic  Pieces  ever 
published  in  the  English  Language,  to  the  Year  1747;  8vo. 
1747.  it  was  added  to  a  play  called  Scanderbeg,  by  Mr.  Whin- 
cop,  who  seems  to  have  received  assistance  in  the  execution  of  it 
from  Mr.  Mottley.  These  authors  have  not  improved,  in  the 
least,  on  Jacob's  plan;  and  though  some  new  materials  are  added, 
they  are  too  frequently  inaccurate  and  erroneous  to  deserve  much 
dependence  being  placed  on  their  authority.  A  short  interval 
eiaosed,  before  tie  pub'ication  of  a  new  performance  by  Mr. 
Chetwood,  who  i^arl  been  many  years  prompter  at  thelheatre 
t£oyal  in  Drury  Lane,  and,  from  his  situation  there,  might  be 


INTRODUCTION,  lxxui 

supposed  not  unqualified  for  the  task.  His  work  wai  called  The 
British  Theatre;  containing  the  Lives  of  the  English  Dramatic 
Poets;  with  an  Account  of  all  their  Plays:  together  with  the 
Lives  of  most  of  the  principal  Actors  as  well  as  Potts,  lu  r&Iiick 
■is  prefixed,  a  short  View  of  the  Rise  and  Progress  of  the  English 
Stage,  l'imo.  17*2.  Of  this  compilation  it  is  difficult  to  speak 
with  any  temper.  It  contains  the  grossest  blunders  that  negli- 
gence could  possibly  create,  and  mistakes  that  the  slightest  atten- 
tion would  have  prevented.  The  faults,  however,  of  this  work, 
arising  from  neglect  or  ignorance,  though  very  numerous,  are 
pardonable,  when  compared  to  such  as  have  fraud  and  deceit  for 
their  parents.  In  the  course  of  his  undertaking,  he  has  forged  and 
created  dates  and  titles  whenever  the  wantonness  of  his  invention 
chose  to  give  the  reins  to  imposition.  The  reader  need  only 
inspect  the  article  of  Shakspeare,  where  editions  are  mentioned  of 
every  play- of  that  author,  uone  of  which  ever  existed.  The  im- 
partiality of  an  historian  demands  this  declaration,  that  the  per*- 
ibrmance  of  Mr.  Chetwood,  now  under  consideration,  with  the 
Theatrical  Records,  12mo.  1736,  and  The  Playhouse  Pocket 
Companion,  12mo.  1779  (both  built  on  the  same  foundation), 
are  equally  erroneous,  and  altogether  unworthy  of  the  smallest 
regard.  It  is  remarkable  of  the  last-mentioned  book,  that  in  the 
very  first  line  of  its  catalogue  is  an  error  of  So; .  ot       for  Socrates. 

In  1788,  the  late  Mr.  Egertoa  published,  m  a  1  '.".■•  •  volume, 
The  Theatrical  Remembrancer;  contm  ling  a  replete  Lis-  of 
all  the  Dramatic  Performances  in  the  / '  ih  Language ;  tl  eir 
several  Editions,  Dates,  and  Sizes,  ann  the  Theatres  where  they 
•were  original lif  performed:  together  with  an  Auuu.it  of  those 
which  haze  been  acted  and  are  unpublished,  and  a  Catalogue  of 
such  Latin  Plays  as  have  been  written  by  English  Authors,  from 
the  earliest  Production  of  the  English  Drama  to  the  End  of  the 
Year  1787-  To  which  are  added,  Notitia  Drarnatica,  being  a 
chronological  Account  of  Events  relative  to  the  English  Stage. 
This  is,  as  far  as  its  plan  extends,  a  very  useful,  and,  generally 
speaking,  correct  work.  It  was  followed,  in  1792.  by  another 
volume,  of  similar  size,  entitled  A  new  Theatrical  Dictionary, 
&c.  which  was  a  very  brief  abridgment  (executed  with  little  in- 
dustry, and  less  taste)  of  the  last  edition  of  the  present  work. 
v  In  1801  appeared  a  .2mo.  volume,  with  the  following  copious 
title-page :  Barker's  Continuation  of  Egertons  Theatrical  Re- 
membrancer, Bakers  B'.ograp  iia  Drarnatica,  fyc.  containing  a 
complete  List  of  all  the  Dramatic  Performances,  their  several 
Editions,  Dates,  and  Sizes,  together  with  those -which  are  un- 
published, and  the  Theatres  where  they  were  originally  performed: 
from  1787  to  1801.  Including  several  Omissions,  Additions, 
and  Corrections :  also  a  Continuation  of  the  Notitia  Drarnatica, 

vol.  i.  f 


Ixxiv  INTRODUCTION. 

nith  considerable  Improvements.  To  which  is  added,  a  corvplde. 
List  of  Plays,  the  earliest  Date,  Shi',  and  Author's  Name 
(relieve  known),  f< om  the  Commencement  to  1801.  Thcwhoh 
arranged,  fyc.  by  l\  a  ley  Chamberlain  Oulton.  As  a  mere  ca- 
talogue, ilils  book  (which  was,  by  an  Appendix,  continued  to  the 
year  L80S)  has  considerable  merit.  Much  diligence  stems  to  have 
been  exerted  hi  collecting  names  of  dramatic  pieces  not  mentioned 
in  former  lists.;  and  we  u\c  sorry  to  be  obliged  io  qualify  our  praise 
of  it,  by  saying,  that  many  inaccuracies  occur  in  the  titles,  dates,  au- 
thors' names,  8cc.  These  may,  perhaps,  be  errata  of  the  press,  but 
they  deduct  greatly  from  the  utility  of  the  book. 

The  work  which  is  now  republished  next  claims  to  be  noticed. 
It  is  professedly  founded  on  Mr.  David  Erskine  Baker's  publica- 
tion, in  'J  vols.  lCnio,  1764,  entitled,  The  Companion  to  t/ie 
Playhouse ;  or,  an  Historical  Account  of  all  the  Dramatic 
JVriters  {  and  their  Ji  orks)  that  hare  appeared  in  Great  Britain 
and  Ireland,  from  the  Commencement  of  our  theatrical  Exhibi- 
tions, down  to  the  present  I  ear  1704.  Composed  in  the  Form  of 
t!  Dictionary,  for  the- more  readily  tinning  io  any  particular 
Author,  or  Performance. 

Besides  die  labours  of  Langbaitte,  Gildon,  Jacob,  and  Whin- 
cop,  Mr.  Baker  is  said  to  have  had  the  use  of  some  manuscripts 
belonging  to  Mr.  Coxetef,  a  person  who  was  very  diligent  in 
collecting  materials  for  the  lives  of  the  English  poets  #.     That 

*  Coxeter's  TVISS.  were  insertions  in  an  interleaved  set  of  Jacob's  Lives  of  the 
Dramatic  Poets;  together  With  many  loose  papers  of  memoirs  and  anecdotes.  This 
gentleman,  we  arc  told,  wou  d  htm;  for  seven  years  after  a  dale,  a  chronological 
circumstance,  or  a  scpufce&fal  inscription;  and  such  men  aie  of  infinite  use  to 
literature. 

Thomas  Coxeter  was  born  of  an  ancient  and  respectable  family  at  Lechlade, 
in  Gloucestershire,  September  zo,  1689.  He-was  educated  ;r.-  grammatical  learn- 
ing, first  under  the  Rev.  Mr.  Collier,  at  Coxwell,  in  Berkshire,  and  afterwards 
>mder  the  Rev.  Mr.  Collin-,  at  ?dagdalen  College  school,  in  Oxford.  In  his  six* 
teenth  year,  he  was  entered  a  commoner  of  Trinity  College,  Oxford,  July  7,  1705. 
His  tutor  there  was  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edward  Cranke,  one  of  the  fellows,  afterwards 
preacher  at  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  presented  by  the  said  college  to  the  living  of  Great 
AYaitham,  in  Es-e^.  From  Oxford,  where  he  wore  a  civilian's  gown,  he  came  to 
London,  with  a  vi<  W  of  v.*  ing  in  the  practice  of  the  civil  law  ;  but  losing  his 
friend  and  patron,  Sir  John  Cook,  cicsn  of  the  arches  and  vjcar-gcneral,  A;c.  who 
died  in  r-to,  he  abandoned  all  thoughts  of  that  and  every  other  profession.  Con- 
tinuing in  London  without  any  settled  pursuit,  he  became  acquainted  with  book- 
sellers and  authors.  He  amassed  materials  for  a  Biography  of  our  Poets,  some  of 
which  appear  to  have  been  communicated  to  Mr.  Wartnri  by  Mr.  Wise,  late  Rad- 
elivian  librarian,  and  a  contemporary  with  Mr.  Coxeter  at  Trinity  College.  He 
assisted  Mr.  Ames  in  The  History  of  British  Typograpliy.  He  had  a  curious 
collection  qf  old  plays.  He  painted  oat  to  Tneobuld  many  of  the  black  lettered 
books,  with  which  that  critic  illustrated  Shakspeare.  He  compiled  one,  if  not 
more,  of  the  Indexes  to  Hudson's  edition  of  Jo-,ephus,  in  171:0.  in  1739,  ne 
published  anew  edition  of  Dr.  Bailey's  or  ra:her  Or.  Richard  Hall's)  Life  of  Bishop 
Fisher,  first  printed  in  1 6^5.  In  the  beginning  of  the  yejr  1744,  he  circulated 
troposals  t>r  printing  May's  plays,  of.  which  this  is  an  exact  copy :    «'  Speedily  ioiU 


introduction,  ixxv 

Mf.  Baker  possessed  abilities  fully  competent  to  the  undertaking, 
the  compliments  which  have  been  paid  to  his  performance  by 
several  eminent  writers  sufficiently  prove.  The  principal  defect 
in  his  account  arose  from  his  omitting  the  places  where  the  pieces 
were  acted,  and  his  not  inserting  the  various  editions  of  each  play. 
He  had  likewise  adopted  Langbaine's  alphabetical  arrangement  in 
the  account  of  authors,  without  noting  either  the  dates  or  sizes  of 
their  works,  a  species  of  information  which  books  of  this  kind 
particularly  want,  and  in  which  they  have  been  hitherto  singularly 
deficient.  The  judgment  of  Mr.  Baker  is  for  the  most  part 
correct,  and  his  criticisms  are  well  grounded ;  he  seems  also  not 
to  have  suffered  himself  to  be  misled  by  prejudice  or  partiality. 
With  every  abatement  winch  the  defects  belonging  to  the  perform- 
ance might  warrant,  it  was  certainly  the  least  exceptionable  and 
most  generally  approved  work  on  the  subject  extant  in  the  English. 
language. 

To  correct  the  errors,  and  supply  the  defects  of  Mr.  Baker's 
work,  it  was  found  necessary  to  refer  to  the  original  publications 
of  the  several  plays  mentioned  in  the  following  volumes  Many 
mistakes,  transmitted  from  writer  to  writer  without  examination, 
have  by  this  means  been  rectified,  and,  it  is  presumed,  much  new 
information  has  been  added.  The  whole  is  submitted  to  the  can- 
dour and  liberality  of  the  public. 

•'  be  published,  The  Dramatic  Whkks  ofTHOMAs  May,  Esquire,  a  contemporary 
*'  with  Ben  Jonson,  and,  upon  his  decease,  a  competitor  for  th;  Bays.  With  Notes, 
"  and  an  Account  of  his  Life  and  Writings  By  Thomas  Coxeteh,  Esquire, 
**  some  time  of  Trinity  College,  Oxford.  The  Editor,  intending  to  revive  the  best 
"  of  our  Old  Plays,  faithfully  collated  with  all  the  editions  that  could  be  found 
*'  in  a  search  of  above  thirty  years,  happened  to  communicate  his  scheme  to  one 
"  who  now  invades  it.  To  vindicate  which,  he  is  resolved  to  publish  this  deserving 
*'  Author,  though  out  of  the  order  of  his  design.  And  as  a  late  spurious  edition  of 
"  Gorboduc  is  sufficient  to  shew  what  mistakes  and  confusion  may  be  expected 
"  from  the  medley  now  advertising  in  ten  volumes,  a  correct  edition  will  be  added 
"  of  that  excellent  tragedy :  with  other  Poetical  Works  of  the  renowned  Sackville, 
"  his  Life,  and  a  Glossary.  These  are  offered  as  a  fpecimen  of  the  great  care 
"  which  is  necessary,  and  will  constantly  be  used,  in  the  revival  of  such  old  writers 
**  as  the  Editor  shall  be  encouraged  to  restore  to  the  public  in  their  genuine  purity." 
Though  this  design  did  not  take  effect,  we  learn  from  it,  that  he  was  the  first  who 
formed  the  very  excellent  scheme  of  publishing  an  ample  selection  of  our  obsolete 
dramas,  adopted  by  Dodsley,  and  since  perfected  with  great  improvements.  Sack- 
ville's  Gorboduc,  here  referred  to,  is  the  same  edition  that  was  conducted  by  Mr- 
ijptnee,  in  1756. 

In  February  1746-7,  Mr.  Coxcter  was*  appointed  secretary  to  "  A  Society  for 
"  the  Encouragement  of  an  Essay  towards  a  complete  English  History,"  under  th* 
auspices  of  which  appeared  the  first  volume  ot  Carte's  History  of  England. 

He  died  of  a  fever  on  Easter-day,  April  10,  1747,  in  hit  59th  year;  ard  was 
buried  in  the  chap:l-yard  of  the  royal  hc.pital  of  BridcweU'.—Ge/utemani  Mataxint. 
>"ol.  li. 


ABBREVIATIONS   EXPLAINED. 


£.  or  Bur.    Burletta,  or  Burlesque. 
B.L.orb.l.  Blaek  Letter. 

B.  O Ballad  Opera. 

Bal Ballet. 

C Comedy. 

CD...    .  Comic  Drama. 

C.  F Comic  Farce. 

C.  G Covent  Garden. 

C,  H Comical  History. 

CM Comical  Moral. 

CO Comic  Opera. 

C  S Comical  Satire,  or  Co- 
mic Sketch. 

D.  or  Dr.  .  Drama. 

D.  A Dramatic  Anecdote. 

D.  C Dod^ley's  Collection  of 

Old  Plays. 

D.  E Dramatic  Entertain- 
ment. 

D.  F Dramatic  Fable. 

D.  N Dramatic  Novel. 

D.  O Dramatic  Opera. 

D.  R Dramatic  Romance. 

D.  P Dramatic  Poem. 

D.  S Dramatic  Satire. 

D.  T Dramatic  Tale. 

Divert.  . . .  Diverti'-ement. 

Dr.  L Drury  Lane. 

E Entertainment. 

F Farce. 

F.  O Farcical  Opera. 

F.  T Fairy  Tale,  or  French 

Tragedy. 

G.  S Grand  Spectacle. 

H.  C Historical  Comedy. 

XL  M Haymarket. 

H.  O Hawkins's    Origin    of 

the  English  Drama. 


H.  P Historical  Play. 

H.  T Historical  Tragedy. 

I.  or  Int. . .  Interlude. 

L.  I.  F.  . . .  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields. 

M Masque. 

M.  C Musical  Comedy. 

M.  D Musical  Drama. 

M.  E MusicalEntertainment* 

M.  F. Musical  Farce. 

M.  I Musical  Interlude. 

M.  O Musical  Opera. 

M.  R Musical  Romance. 

MS Manuscript. 

Mel.  D Melo-Drama. 

N.  A Not  Acted. 

N.  D No  Date. 

N.  P Not  Printed. 

O Opera. 

O.  P Occasional  Prelude, 

P Play. 

P.  D Pastoral  Drama. 

P.  P Petite  Piece. 

P.  T.  C  . .  PastoralTragi- Comedy. 

Pant Pantomime. 

last Pastoral. 

Tre Prelude. 

R.  M.  D.. .  RomanticMelo-Drama. 

R.  T Royal  Tragedy. 

Rom Romance. 

S Serenata. 

S.  CO.  . .  Serio-Comic  Opera. 
S.  C.  R.  . .  Serio-Comic  Romance. 
Sat.  ......  Satire,  or  Satirical. 

Sk Sketch. 

Spec Spectacle. 

T » Tragedy. 

T.  C Tragi-Com. 

T.C  O.P.F.  Tragi-Comi  Operatical 
Pastoral  Farce. 


BIOGRAPHIA  DRAMATICA. 


A. 


ADA 

A.  R.  Gent. — These  initials  we 
find  prefixed  to  a  dramatic  piece 
entitled 

The  Valiant  Welchman.  Tragi- 
comedy. 

None  of  the  writers  give  any 
account  of  this  author,  nor  even 
hint  at  his  name;  yet  we  cannot 
help  venturing  one  conjecture  in 
regard  to  him  ;  which  is,  that  we 
think  it  not  improbable  to  have 
been  Mr.  Robert  Armin,  author  of 
a  comedy  called  The  History  of  the 
Two  Maids  of  More  Clacke:  there 
being  some  resemblance  in  the 
manner  and  style  of  the  two  titles, 
and  the  difference  of  only  six  years 
in  their  dates;  the  last-named  piece 
having  been  published  in  the  year 
1609,  and  this  before  us  in  1615. 

Adams,  George,  M.  A. — This 
gentleman  was  some  time  Fellow 
of  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge; 

B.  A.  1729;  M.  A.  1735.  He 
translated  the  following  plays  of 
Sophocles,  printed  in  Svo.  2  vols, 
1729: 

1.  Ajax. 

2.  Electra. 

3.  CEdipus  Tyrannus. 

4.  Antigone. 

5.  CEdipus  Coloneus, 
t).  Trachinice. 

7.  Philoctetes, 

VOL.    I. 


ADD 

He  also  wrote 

The  Heathen  Martyr ;  or.  The 
Death  of  Socrates.  Hist.  Trag. 
4to.  174(5. 

Adamson,  John.  Of  this  gen- 
tleman, we  can  only  state,  that 
he  is  the  translator,  from  the  Por- 
tuguese language,  of 

Dona  Ignez.  de  Castro.  Trag- 
12mo.  1803. 

Addington,  Sir  William, 
was  for  many  years  chief  magis- 
trate of  the  Public  Office,  Low 
Street  ;  and  published,  in  1/75,  a 
very  useful  work,  called  An  Abridg- 
ment of  Penal  Statutes,  of  which 
several  improved  editions  have 
since  appeared.  Sir  William  re- 
tired from  office  a  few  years  ago., 
but  is  still  living.  He  claims  a 
place  in  the  present  work  on  ac- 
count of  the  following  piece,  which 
has  sometimes  been  erroneously 
ascribed  to  Hugh  Kelly  : 

The  Prince  of  Agra.  T.  1 774. 
Not  printed. 

Addison,  Joseph.  This  very 
great  ornament  to  the  age  he 
lived  in,  his  own  country  in  parti- 
cular, and  to  the  cause  of  polite  li- 
terature in  general,  was  son  of  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Launcelot  Addison,  who 
atterwards  became  Dean  of  Litch- 
field and  Coventry,  but,  at  the  time 


ADD 

of  this  son's  birth,  was  rector  of 
Mileston,  near  Ambresbury,  Wilts ; 
at  which  place  the  subject  of  our  pre- 
sent consideration  received  his  vital 
breath,  on  the  isi  day  of  May  1U/2. 
He  was  very  early  sent  to  school  to 
Ambresbury,  being  put  under  the 
care  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Kaish,  then 
master  of  that  school ;  from  thence, 
as  soon  as  he  had  received  the  first 
rudiments  of  literature,  he  was  re- 
moved to  Salisbury  school,  taught 
by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Taylor,  and  after 
that  to  the  Charterhouse,  where 
he  was  under  che  tuition  of  the 
learned  Dr.  Ellis.  Here  he  first 
contracted  an  intimacy  with  Mr. 
Steele,  afterwards  Sir  Richard, 
which  continued  almost  till  his 
death.  At  about  fifteen  years  of 
age  he  was  entered  of  Queen's 
College,  Oxford ;  and,  in  about 
two  years  afterwards,  through  the 
interest  of  Dr.  Lancaster,  president 
of  Magdalen,  elected  into  that 
college,  and  admitted  to  the  de- 
grees of  bachelor  and  master  of 
arts. 

While  he  was  at  the  university, 
he  was  repeatedly  solicited  by  his 
father  and  other  friends  to  enter 
into  holy  orders,  which,  although 
from  his  extreme  modesty  and  na- 
tural diffidence,  he  would  gladly 
have  declined,  yet,  in  compliance 
with  his  father's  desires,  he  was 
once  very  near  concluding  on  ; 
Svhen  having,  through  Mr.  Con- 
greve's  means,  .become  a  great  fa- 
vourite with  that  universal  patron 
of  poetry  and  the  polite  arts,  the 
famous  Lord  Halifax,  that  noble- 
man, who  had  frequently  regretted 
that  so  few  men  of  liberal  educa- 
tion and  great  abilities  applied 
themselves  to  affairs  of  public 
business,  In  which  their  country 
might  reap  the  advantage  of  their 
talents,  earnestly  persuaded  him  to 
lay  abide  this  design,  and,  as  an 


ADD 

encouragement  for  him  so  to 
do,  and  an  indulgence  to  an  in- 
clination for  travel,  which  showed 
itself  in  Mr.  Addison,  procured 
him  an  annual  pension  of  300/. 
from  the  crown,  to  enable  him 
to  make  the  tour  of  France  and 
Italy. 

On  this  tour  then  he  set  out  at 
the  latter  end  of  the  year  lOpy, 
and  did  his  country  great  honour  by 
his  extraordinary  abilities  ;  receiv- 
ing in  his  turn  every  mark  of 
esteem  that  could  be  shown  to  a 
man  of  exalted  genius,  particu- 
larly from  M.  Boileau,  the  famous 
French  poet,  and  the  Abbe  Sal- 
vini,  professor  of  the  Greek  tongue 
in  the  university  of  Florence  ;  the 
former  of  whom  declared,  that  he 
first  conceived  an  opinion  of  the 
English  genius  for  poetry  from 
Mr.  Addison's  Latin  poems  print- 
ed in  the  Musce  Anglicance ;  and 
the  latter  translated  into  elegant 
Italian  verse,  his  Epistolary  Poem 
to  Lord  Halifax,  which  is  esteem- 
ed a  masterpiece  in  its  kind. 

In  the  year  1702,  as  he  was 
about  to  return  home,  he  was  in- 
formed, from  his  friends  in  Eng- 
land, by  letter,  that  King  William 
intended  him  the  post  of  secretary 
to  attend  the  army  under  Prince 
Eugene  in  Italy.  This  was  an 
office  that  would  have  been  ex- 
tremely acceptable  to  Mr.  Addi- 
son ;  but  His  Majesty's  death, 
which  happened  before  he  could 
get  his  appointment,  put  a  stop 
to  that,  together  with  his  pension. 
This  news  came  to  him  at  Geneva  j 
he  therefore  chose  to  make  the 
tour  of  Germany  in  his  way  home, 
and  at  Vienna  composed  his  Trea- 
tise on  Medals,  which  however 
did  not  make  its  appearance  till 
after  his  death. 

A  different  set  of  ministers  com- 
ing to  the  management  of  affairs 


ADD 

in  the  beginning  of  Queen  Anne's 
reign,  and  consequently  the  inte- 
rest of  Mr.  Addison's  friends  being 
considerably  weakened,  he  conti- 
nued unemployed  and  in  obscu- 
rity till  1/04;  when  an  accident 
called  him  again  into  notice. 

The  amazing  victory  gained  by 
the  great  Duke  of  Marlborough  at 
Blenheim,  exciting  a  desire  in 
the  Earl  of  Godolphin,  then  Lord 
High  Treasurer,  to  have  it  cele- 
brated in  verse,  Lord  Halifax,  to 
whom  that  nobleman  had  com- 
municated this  his  wish,  recom- 
mended Mr.  Addison  to  him,  as 
the  only  person  who  was  likely  to 
execute  such  a  task  in  a  manner 
adequate  to  the  subject:  in  which 
he  succeeded  so  happily,  that  when 
the  poem  he  wrote,  viz.  The  Cam- 
paign, was  finished  no  further  than 
to  the  celebrated  simile  of  the 
angel,  the  Lord  High  Treasurer 
was  so  delighted  with  it,  that  he 
immediately  presented  the  author 
with  the  place  of  one  of  the  com- 
missioners of  appeals  in  the  Excise, 
in  the  room  of  Mr.  Locke,  then 
lately  deceased. 

In  the  year  1/05,  he  attended 
Lord  Halifax  to  Hanover;  and  in 
the  succeeding  year  was  appoint- 
ed under-secretary  to  Sir  Charles 
Hedges,  then  Secretary  of  State ; 
nor  did  he  lose  this  post  on  the 
removal  of  Sir  Charles;  the  Earl 
of  Sunderland,  who  succeeded  to 
that  gentleman,  willingly  conti- 
nuing Mr.  Addison  as  his  under- 
secretary. 

In  1/09,  Lord  Wharton,  being 
appointed  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ire- 
land, nominated  our  author  secre- 
tary for  that  kingdom ;  the  Queen 
at  the  same  time  bestowing  on 
him  also  the  post  of  keeper  of  the 
records  in  Ireland.  But  when,  in 
the  latter  end  of  Her  Majesty's 
reign,    the    ministry    was    again 


ADD 

changed,  and  Mr.  Addison  ex- 
pected no  further  employment,  he 
gladly  submitted  to  a  retirement, 
wherein  he  had  formed  a  design, 
which  it  is  much  to  be  regretted 
that  he  never  had  in  his  power  to 
put  in  execution  ;  viz.  the  com- 
piling of  a  Dictionary,  to  fix  the 
standard  of  the  English  language, 
upon  the  same  kind  of  plan  with 
the  famous  Dittionario  delta  Crusca 
of  the  Italians  5  a  work  in  no  lan- 
guage so  much  wanted  as  in  our 
own,  and  which,  from  so  mas- 
terly, so  elegant,  and  so  correct  a 
pen  as  this  gentleman's,  could  not 
have  failed  being  executed  to  the 
greatest  degree  of  perfection.  We 
have,  however,  the  less  reason  to 
lament  this  loss,  as  the  same  de- 
sign has  since  been  carried  on,  and 
brought  to  a  maturity  that  reflects 
the  highest  honour  on  our  country 
in  general,  and  its  author  in  parti- 
cular; nor,  after  this  character, 
can  we,  we  think,  have  need  to 
enter  into  a  further  explanation,  or 
even  hint  that  we  mean  Dr.  Samuel 
Johnson's  Dictionary  of  the  English 
Language. 

What  prevented  Mr.  Addison's 
pursuing  this  design,  was  his  being 
again  called  out  into  public  busi- 
ness;  for,  on  the  death  of  the 
Queen,  he  was  appointed  secretary 
to  the  Lords  Justices  ;  then  again, 
Sept.  23,  1714,  secretary  to  Lord 
Sunderland,  as  Lord  Lieutenant  of 
Ireland ;  and,  on  Lord  Sunder- 
land's resignation  of  the  lord  lieu- 
tenancy, he  was  made  one  of  the 
lords  commissioners  of  trade. 

In  1716,  he  married  the  Coun- 
tess of  Warwick,  and  in  the  en- 
suing year  was  raised  to  the  high 
dignity  of  one  of  Her  Majesty's 
Principal  Secretaries  of  State.  The 
fatigues  of  this  important  post  be- 
ing too  much  for  Mr.  Addison's 
constitution,  which  was  naturally 
B2 


ADD 

not  an  extraordinary  one,  he  was 
very  soon  obliged  to  resign  it ;  in- 
tending, for  the  remainder  of  his 
life,  to  pursue  the  completion  of 
some  literary  designs  which  he  had 
planned  out :  but  this  he  had  no 
long  time  allowed  him  for  the 
doing;  an  asthma  and  dropsy,  oc- 
casioned by  drinking  strong  white 
wines,  carrying  him  off  the  stage 
of  this  world  before  he  could  finish 
any  of  his  schemes.  He  departed 
this  life  at  Holland  House,  near 
Kensington,  on  the  17th  of  June 
1719,  having  then  just  entered  into 
his  48th  year,  and  left  behind  him 
one  only  daughter. 

As  a  ivriter  we  need  say  little  of 
him ;  as  the  general  esteem  hi3 
works  were,  still  are,  and  ever 
must  be,  held  in,  "  pleads  (as 
"  Shakspeare  says)  like  angels, 
"  trumpet-longtid"  in  their  be- 
ialf.  As  a  poet,  his  Cato,  in  the 
dramatic,  and  his  Campaign,  in 
the  heroic  way,  will  ever  maintain 
a  place  among  the  first-rate  works 
of  either  kind.  Yet  we  cannot  help 
thinking  even  these  excelled  by 
the  elegance,  accuracy,  and  eleva- 
tion of  his  prose  writings ;  among 
which,  his  papers  in  the  Tatler, 
Spectator,  and  Guardian,  hold  a 
foremost  rank,  and  must  continue 
the  objects  of  admiration,  so  long 
as  the  English  language  retains  its 
purity,  or  any  authors  who  have 
written  in  it  continue  to  be  read. 
As  a  man,  it  is  impossible  to  say 
too  much,  and  it  would  even  ex- 
tend beyond  our  present  limits  to 
say  enough  in  his  praise,  as  he 
was  in  every  respect  truly  valuable. 
In  private  life  he  was  amiable,  in 
public  employment  honourable ;  a 
zealous  patriot ;  faithful  to  his 
friends,  and  steadfast  to  his  prin- 
ciples ;  and  the  noble  sentiments 
which  everywhere  breathe  through 
his  Cato,  are  no  more  tfcan  ema- 


ADD 

nations  of  that  love  for  his  country, 
which  was  the  constant  guide  of 
all  his  actions.  But  last  of  all, 
let  us  view  him  as  a  Christian,  in 
which  light  he  will  appear  still 
more  exalted  than  in  any  other. 
And  to  this  end  nothing  perhaps 
can  more  effectually  lead  us  than 
the  relating  an  anecdote  concern- 
ing his  death,  in  the  words  of  one 
of  the  best  men,  ns  well  as  the  best 
writers,  who,  in  a  pamphlet  writ- 
ten almost  entirely  to  introduce 
this  little  story,  speaks  of  him  in 
the  following  manner : 

"  After  a  long  and  manly,  but 
"  vain,  struggle  with  his  distem- 
"  per  (says  he),  he  dismissed  his 
"  physicians,  and  with  them  all 
*'  hopes  of  life  :  but  with  his  hopes 
"  of  life  he  dismissed  not  his  con- 
"  cern  for  the  living;  but  sent  for 
"  a  youth  (Lord  Warwick)  nearly 
"  related,  and  finely  accomplished, 
"  but  not  above  being  the  better 
"  for  good  impressions  from  a  dy- 
"  ing  friend.  He  came;  but  life 
"  now  glimmering  in  the  socket, 
"  the  dying  friend  was  silent. — 
"  After  a  decent  and  proper  pause, 
"  the  youth  said,  Dear  Sir !  you 
"  sent  for  me:  I  believe,  and  I 
"  hope,  that  you  have  some  com- 
u  mands ;  I  shall  hold  them  most 
"  sacred.  May  distant  ages  (pr*- 
"  ceeds  this  author)  not  only  hear, 
<f  but  feel,  the  reply  ! — Forcibly 
"  grasping  the  youth's  hand,  he 
"  softly  said,  See  in  what  peace  a 
"  Christian  can  die.— He  spoke 
"  with  difficulty,  and  soon  ex- 
"  pired."  The  pamphlet  from 
which  this  is  quoted  is  entitled 
Conjectures  on  original  Composition, 
and,  although  published  anony- 
mously, was  written  by  the  great 
Dr.  Edward  Young.  Nor  can  we 
with  more  propriety  close  our  cha- 
racter of  Mr.  Addison  than  with 
this  very  gentleman's  observations 


ADD 

on  the  just-mentioned  anecdote, 
when,  after  telling  us  that  it  is  to 
this  circumstance  Mr.  Tickell  re- 
fers, where,  in  his  lines  on  this 
great  man's  death,  he  has  these 
words : 

"  He  taught  us  how  to  live ;  and,  oh ! 

too  high 
"  A  price  for  knowledge,  taught  us  how 

to  die — " 

thus  proceeds  Dr.  Young :  <c  Had 
<(  not  this  poor  plank  been  thrown 
"  out,  the  chief  article  of  his  glory 
"  would  probably  have  been  sunk 
<f  for  ever,  and  late  ages  had  re- 
"  ceived  but  a  fragment  of  his 
"  fame  :  a  fragment  glorious  in- 
"  deed,  for  his  genius  how  bright ! 
"  But  to  commend  him  for  com- 
'*  position,  though  immortal,  is 
"  detraction  now,  if  there  our  en- 
"  comium  ends.  Let  us  look  fur- 
"  ther  to  that  concluding  scene, 
**  which  spoke  human  nature  not 
"  unrelated  to  the  Divine.  To 
*'  that  let  us  pay  the  long  and 
'*  large  arrear  of  our  greatly  post- 
<l  humous  applause." 

A  little  further  he  thus  termi- 
nates this  noble  encomium  :  "  If 
"  powers  were  not  wanting,  a  mo- 
"  nument  more  durable  than  those 
*'  of  marble  should  proudly  rise, 
"  in  this  ambitious  page,  to  the 
"  new  and  far  nobler  Addison, 
**  than  that  which  you  and  the 
"  public  have  so  long  and  so  much 
"  admired  :  nor  this  nation  only, 
"  for  it  is  Europe's  Addison  as 
"well  as  ours;  though  Europe 
,f  knows  not  half  his  titles  to  her 
"  esteem,  being  as  yet  unconscious 
"  that  the  dying  Addison  far  out- 
"  shines  her  Addison  immortal." 

Having  thus  given  some  account 
of  the  life  anfl  death  of  this  great 
man,  nothing  more  remains  in  this 
place  to  be  done,  than  to  give  a  list 
of  his  dramatic  pieces,  which  were 
the  following  three  : 


ALA 

1.  Rosamond.     Op.    4to.  l^O?. 

2.  Cato.    Trag.    4to.  1/13. 

3.  The  Drummer.  Com.  4to, 
1715. 

In  a  new  edition  of  Steele's 
Epistolary  Correspondence,  publish- 
ed by  Mr.  Nichols  in  I8O9,  8vo. 
is  the  first  act  of  an  anonymous 
tragedy,  which  is  conjectured,  up- 
on internal  evidence,  to  have  been 
the  work  of  Addison. 

Alabaster,  William.  This 
author  was  born  at  Hadleigh  in 
Suffolk,  and  elected  from  West- 
minster School  to  Trinity  College,, 
in  the  university  of  Cambridge,  in 
1583,  where  he  took  the  degree 
of  Master  of  Arts;  and  was  after- 
wards incorporated  of  the  uni- 
versity of  Oxford,  7m  of  July 
159'2.  Wood  says,  he  was  the 
rarest  poet  and  Grecian  that  any 
one  age  or  nation  produced.  He 
attended  the  unfortunate  Robert, 
Earl  of  Essex,  in  his  voyage  to 
Cadiz,  as  his  chaplain  ;  but,  enter- 
taining some  doubts  upon  religion, 
he  was  prevailed  upon  to  declare 
himself  a  Roman  Catholic,  and 
wrote  a  pamphlet  to  vindicate  his 
conduct  on  the  occasion.  Be- 
coming disgusted  with  his  new 
friends,  'however,  he  changed  a 
second  time,  and  returned  to  the 
church  of  England.  He  was  made 
prebendary  of  St.  Paul's  cathedral  in 
London,  doctor  of  divinity,  and 
rector  of  Tharfield  in  Hertford- 
shire. He  died  about  the  begin- 
ning of  April  lo-lO,  and  was  bu- 
ried by  his  friend,  Nicholas  Bacon, 
of  Gray's  Inn,  whom  he  appointed 
his  executor. 

He  was  the  author  of  several 
works,  and  one  Latin  play,  which 
Dr.  Johnson  mentions  with  appro- 
bation in  his  life  of  Miltoa  ;  see 
p.  7-     It  was  called 

Roxana.    Tra<r.     12mo.   1632, 


ALE 

He  also  published  Lericon  Pen- 
tag  lot  ton,  fol.  1637. 

Alderson,  Miss.     See  Opie, 
Mrs. 

Alexander,    "William,    Earl 
of  Sterling.     The  family  of  this 
North  British  bard  was  originally 
a  branch   of    the  Macdonalds. — 
Alexander  Macdonald,    their  an- 
cestor, obtained  from  the  family  of 
Argyle   a   grant  of  the   lands   of 
Menstry,  inCIacmananshire, where 
they  fixed  their  residence,  and  took 
their  surnames  from  the  Christian 
name  of  their  predecessor.     Our  • 
author  was  born  in  the  reign  of 
Queen  Elizabeth  ;  and,  during  the 
minority  of  James  VI.  of  Scotland, 
he  g3\e  early  specimens  of  a  rising 
genius,   and  much  improved  the 
fine  parts  he  had  from  nature,  by 
a  very  polite  and  extensive  educa- 
tion.    He  first  travelled  abroad  as 
tutor  to  the  Earl  of  Argyle  ;  and, 
after  his  return,  being  happy  in  so 
great  a  patron  as  the  Earl,  he  was 
caressed  by  persons  of  the   first 
fashion,  while  he  yet  moved  in  the 
sphere  of  a  private  gentleman. — 
Mr.   Alexander,  having   a  strong 
propensity  to  poetry,  declined  en- 
tering upon   any  public  employ- 
ment for  some  years,  and  dedicated 
all  his  time  to  the  study  of  the  an- 
cient poets,  upon  whom  he  form*  d 
his  taste.     Although  King  James 
had  but  few  regal  qualities,  yet  he 
certainly   was    an    encourager   of 
learned  men.  Accordingly,  lie  soon 
took  Mr.  Alexander  into  his   fa- 
vour,   and    accepted    the     poems 
our  author  presented  to  him  with 
the  most  condescending  marks  of 
esteem.     In    the  year    l6l4,    he 
created  him   a   knight,  and  gave 
him  the  place  of  master  of  ihe  re- 
quests.    Charles  I.  also   bestowed 
on  him  great  marks  of  the  r<  yal 
favour,  and  made  him  secretary  of 
State  for  the  Scotch  affairs,  in  place 


ALL 
of  the  Earl  of  Haddington,  and  a 
peer,    by   the   title   of   Viscount 
Sterling  ;  soon  after  which  be  raised 
him  to  the  dignity  of  an  Earl,  by 
letters  patent,  dried  14  June  1633, 
upon   the  solemnity  of  His   Ma- 
jesty's coronation,  at  the  palace  of 
Holyrood    House,  in    Edinburgh. 
His  Lordship  enjoyed  the  place  of 
secretary,  with    the   most   unble- 
mished  reputation,  for  the  space 
of  fifteen  years,  even  to  his  death, 
which  happened  on  the    12th  of 
February  1640. 

His  Lordship's  dramatic  pieces 
are, 

1.  Darius.     Trag.     4to.  1603. 

2.  Croesus,     Trag.     4to.    1604. 

3.  Julius  Ccesar.  Trag.  4to. 
1604. 

4.  The  Alexandrcean  Tragedie. 
4to.  1605. 

His  works  were  published  in 
folio,   1637. 

Allen,  . .  To  a  gentle- 
man of  this  name  are  ascribed  the 
following  dramatic  pieces: 

1.  Hymen.     Int.    1764.  N.P. 

2.  Hezekiah.    S.  D.    Svo.  17§S. 
Allixgham,  John  Till.  This 

gentleman  is  the  son  of  a  wine- 
merchant  in  the  city  of  London, 
and  was  brought  up  to  the  pro- 
fession of  the  law :  but  he  is 
chiefly  known  to  the  public  as  a 
dramatist,  and  that  a  very  success- 
ful cue.  The  following  is  a  list  of 
his  productions  in  this  way  : 

1 .  Fortune's  Frolic.  Farce.   8vo. 
1799- 

2.  'Tis  all  a  Farce.     F.     8vo. 
;.  DO. 

3.  Marriage  Promise.  C.  Svo. 
1SG3. 

4.  Mrs.  JViggins.  Com.  Piece, 
Svo.  1803. 

5.  Hearts  of  Oak.  C.  Svo.1804. 

6.  Romantic  Lover.  C.1S06.N.P. 

7.  The  Weathercock.  F.  Svo, 
1800. 


AND 

8.  Who  Wins?  M.  F.  1S0S. 
Not  printed. 

Q.  Independence,  Com.  1SCK). 
Jfot  printed. 

To  him  has  also  been  ascribed, 

10.  Transformation.  Mus.  F. 
IS  10.     Not  printed. 

Amthlett,  .     A  resident 

at  Wolverhampton  ;  at  the  theatre 
in  which  town  the  following  dra- 
matic piece  of  his  was  performed  : 

The  Astronomer.     F.      1S02. 

Andrews,  Miles  Peteb.  This 
gentleman  is  a  living  author,  Mem- 
ber of  Parliament  for  Bewdley, 
and  a  dealer  in  gunpowder  ;  but 
his  works  (which  are  as  follow), 
in  their  effect,  by  no  means  re- 
semble so  active  a  composition, 
being  utterly  deficient  in  point  of 
force  and  splendour : 

1.  The  Election.  Mus.  Int.  Svo. 
17/4. 

2.  The  Conjuror.  Farce.  1 77-1 . 
Not  printed. 

3.  Belphegor ;  or,  The  Wishes. 
Com.  Op.    17/8-     N.  P. 

4.  Summer  Amusement  \  or,  An 
Adventure  at  Margate.  Com.  Op. 
1770.  This  was  written 'in  con- 
junction with  Mr.  Miles.     N.  P. 

5.  Fire  and  Water.  Bal.  Op. 
Svo.  17S0. 

d.  Dissipation.    C.    Svo.  17SI. 

7.  The  Baron  Kinkvervankots- 
dorsprakengatchdern.  M.  C.  Svo. 
1781. 

Q.  The  Best  Bidder.  F.  17S2. 
Not  printed. 

9.  Reparation.     C.     Svo.  1784. 

10.  Better  Late  than  Never.  C. 
Svo.     N.  D.  [1790.] 

11.  Mysteries  of  the  Castle.. 
D.  T.     Svo.  1795. 

Andrews,  James  Petit, F.S. A. 
was  the  younger  son  of  Joseph 
Andrews,  Esq.  of  Shaw  House, 
near  Newbury,  Berks  3  was  edu- 
cated by  a  private  tator,  the 
Rey.   Mr.   Matthews,     rector    of 


A  N  S 
Shaw ;  and  distinguished  himself 
by  his  application  to  literature  and 
the  fine  arts.  At  the  age  of  eigh- 
teen or  nineteen,  he  was  appoint- 
ed a  lieutenant  in  the  Berkshire 
militia,  on  the  first  calling  out  of 
that  body ;  and  he  remained  in 
the  regiment  till  it  was  disembo- 
died. He  married  Miss  Anne 
Penrose,  daughter  of  the  Bev. 
Mr.  Penrose,  rector  of  Newbury, 
by  whom  he  had  three  children. 
Mr.  Andrews  was  author  of  seve- 
ral publications ;  among  others, 
the  following :  Anecdotes,  ancient 
and  modern,  with  Observations, 
1 7S9  ;  A  History  of  Great  Britain, 
connected  tuith  the  Chronology  of 
Europe,  1795;  Continuation  of 
Henry  s  History  of  Great  Britain. 
His  claim  to  a  place  in  this  work 
is  founded  on  the  following  piece: 

The  Inquisitor.  T.  Svo.  1798. 
Assisted  by  H.  J.  Pye,  Esq.  poet- 
laureate. 

Mr.  Andrews,  who  was  one  of 
the  magistrates  of  the  police  office, 
Queen  Square,  Westminster,  died 
Aug.  6,   1797. 

Anspach,  Margravine  of. 
This  lady,  who  is  much  celebrated 
for  her  gaiety,  wit,  and  talents, 
is  the  youngest  daughter  of  Au- 
gustus, Earl  of  Berkeley,  and  born 
in  December  1 750.  At  little  more 
than  sixteen,  she  married  William, 
late  Lord  Craven,  by  whom  she 
had  seven  children  ;  and  his  Lord- 
ship dying  in  Sept.  1791?  she  mar- 
ried, at  Lisbon,  the  Margrave  of 
Anspach  and  Bareith ;  who  soon 
after,  having  no  issue  by  his  former 
lady,  sold  his  margraviate  in  Jan. 
1792,  for  a  large  pension  for  life, 
to  his  nearest  male  heir,  the  then 
King  cf  Prussia,  and  settled  in 
England.  The  Margrave  died  Jan . 
5,  ISOfJ.  The  Margravine  pub- 
lished in  4to.  17S9,  A  Journey 
through  the  Crimea  to  Constanti- 
b4 


3 


ARM 

nople  (in  a  Series  of  Letters, 
■which  are  highly  entertaining).  She 
has  also  produced  the  following 
dramatic  pieces : 

1.  The  Sownamvule.  l2mo. 
177S. 

2.  The  Miniature  Picture.  C. 
8vo.  1781. 

3.  The  Silver  Tankard.  M.  F. 
1781.     N.  P. 

4.  The  Arcadian  Pastoral.  Mus. 
Piece.     1782.     N.  P. 

5.  The  Statue  Feast.  P.  1/62. 
N.  P. 

6.  The  Yorkshire  Ghost.  Com. 
It 94.     N.  P. 

7.  Princess  of  Georgia.  Op. 
I/09.     N.  P. 

8.  Puss  in  Boots.     Pant.    1799- 

9.  Nourjad.    D.P.  1S03.    N.P. 

10.  Love  in  a  Convent.  Com. 
1S05.     N.  P. 

Armin,  Robert.  This  author 
was  an  actor  at  the  Globe,  Black 
Friars,  and  was  living  in  16 11, 
some  verses  having  been  addressed 
to  him  in  that  year  by  John  Da- 
vies,  of  Hereford  ;  from  which  he 
appears  to  have  occasionally  per- 
formed the  part  of  the  Fool,  or 
Clown,  in  Shakspeare's  plays. 

In  Tarleton's  Jests  it  is  said,  that 
he  was  an  apprentice  at  first  to  a 
goldsmith  in  Lombard  Street,  and 
that  going  to  a  tavern  in  Grace- 
church  Street,  to  dun  the  keeper 
thereof,  who  was  a  debtor  to  his 
master,  Tarleton,  who  of  the 
master  of  that  tavern  was  now 
only  a  lodger  in  it,  saw  some  verses 
written  by  Armin  on  the  wainscot 
upon  his  master's  said  debtor, 
whose  name  was  Charles  Tarleton, 
pnd  liked  them  so  well,  that  he 
wrote  others  under  them,  prophe- 
sying, that  as  he  was,  so  Armin 
should  be :  therefore  called  him  his 
adopted  son,  to  wear  the  clown's 
suit  after  him.  And  so  it  fell  out ; 
fcr  the  boy  was  -o  p'eased  with 


A  R  M 

what  Tarleton  hat!  written  of  him, 
so  respected  his  person,  so  fre- 
quented his  plays,  and  so  learned 
his  humour  and  manners,  that, 
from  his  private  practice,  he  came 
to  public  playing  his  parts ;  and 
was  in  great  repute  for  the  same 
all  the  former  part  of  King  James's 
reign. 

He  was  the  author  of 

The  Two  Maids  of  More  Clacke. 
Hist.     -ito.  1609. 

He  likewise  wrote  a  book  called 
A  Nest  cf  JS'innies,  simply  of  them- 
selves, with  Compounds,  1608 : 
and  at  Stationers'  Hall  was  enter- 
ed, in  the  same  year,  "  a  book 
"  called  Phantasm,  the  Italian 
"  Taylor,  and  his  Boy,  made  by 
"  Mr,  Armin,  servant  to  His  Ma- 
"  jesty."  We  have  in  another  place 
ventured  a  surmise  in  regard  to  his 
having  been  the  author  of  one 
dramatic  piece,  from  the  corre- 
spondence of  the  prefixed  initials. 
(See  page  1,  A.  R.)  There  was 
published,  in  the  year  1604,  a 
pamphlet  entitled  A  Discourse  of 
Elizabeth  Armin,  who,  with  some 
other  Complices,  attempted  to  poi- 
son her  Husband. 

Whether  this  anecdote  has  any 
reference  to  our  author  we  cannot 
pretend  to  affirm  5  but  think  it  by 
no  means  improbable,  from  the 
correspondence  of  the  date  with 
the  time  in  which  he  flourished. 

Armstrong,  Dr.  John*.  This 
gentleman  was  born  at  Castleton, 
in  Roxburghshire,  in  Scotland, 
about  17O9  ;  and,  after  a  liberal 
education,  devoted  himself  to  the 
study  of  physic  j  in  which,  though 
he  was  esteemed  to  have  made  a 
considerable  proficiency,  he  never 
arrived  at  much  practice.  He, 
however,  was  appointed  physician 
to  the  King's  army;  a  post  which, 
we  believe,  he  held  at  his  death. 
•  orks  have  g$eat  in  equal  i  ties  j 


9 


A  R  N 
some  of  them  being  possessed  of 
every  requisite  to  be  sought  after 
in  the  most  perfect  composition, 
while  others  can  hardly  be  con- 
sidered as  superior  to  the  produc- 
tions of  mediocrity  itself.  His 
Art  of  preserving  Health,  a  poem, 
is  his  best  performance,  and  will 
transmit  his  name  to  posterity,  as 
one  of  the  first  English  writers. 
He  died  in  September  1779- 

In  the  year  1770,  two  volumes 
of  Miscellanies  were  primed,  in 
which  is  included 

The  Forced  Marriage.  Trag. 
written  in  1/54. 

Arne,  Dr.  <Thomas  Augus- 
tine, was  born  on  the  28th  of 
May  1710.  His  father,  Mr.  Arne, 
an  eminent  upholsterer,  in  King 
Street,  Covent  Garden,  is  the  per- 
son supposed  to  have  been  in- 
tended by  Addison,  in  his  cele- 
brated character  of  the  Politician, 
in  the  155th  and  l60th  numbers 
of  The  Tatler.  He  was  probably 
also  the  same  who  perished  so 
deplorablv  in  the  Fleet  Prison  :  for, 
in  The  Tatler,  he  is  not  only  men- 
tioned as  a  bankrupt,  but,  in  a 
report  read  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, on  the  2d  of  March  172s, 
it  appears,  that  a  Mr.  Edward 
Arne,  upholsterer,  being  in  the  tap- 
room ot  that  prison,  was  suddenly 
seized,  without  the  least  provoca- 
tion, and  forced  into  a  damp,  nau- 
seous, and  unwholesome  dungeon, 
without  fire  or  covering  ;  where, 
through  excessive  cruelty  for  the 
space  of  six  weeks,  he  lost  his 
Senses,    and  died  *. — His  son,  at 


*  On  the  Report  of  this  Committee, 
John  Huggins,  the  warden  of  the  Fleet, 
was  tried  for  murder,  but  acquitted. 
James  Barnes,  his  agent,  by  whom  this 
outrage  was  committed,  tied,  and  was 
pever  tried.  However,  the  Lord  Chief 
Justice  Raymond  was  of  opinion,  that, 
bad  he  been  on  his  trial,  and  the  fact 


A  R  N 

an  early  period  of  life,  was  pui  tc 
the  study  of  the  law ;  a  profession 
equally  inconsistent  with  his  ge- 
nius and  inclination,  and  which 
naturally  led  him  into  scenes  of 
gaiety.  He  accordingly  neglected 
that  dry  study  j  and,  having  pri- 
vately procured  an  old  violin,  Cote 
upon  Littleton  was  left  unmolested 
on  the  shelf,  while  he  stole  to  a 
garret  with  necessary  caution,  and 
there  indulged  the  natural  pro- 
pensity of  his  mind.  By  this  mode 
of  application,  and  probably  with- 
out the  assistance  of  a  master,  he 
soon  acquired  such  facility  of  exe- 
cution, as  to  play  in  a  band  with 
regularity  and  judgment.  His  fa- 
ther had  never  received  the  least 
intimation  of  his  strong  propen- 
sity to  music ;  and,  being  acci- 
dentally invited  to  a  concert,  in 
which  the  young  lawyer  bore  a 
part,  he  was  exceedingly  surprised 
to  see  him  seated  among  the  per- 
formers, in  full  glory.  The  son, 
being  called  upon  for  an  explana- 
tion, candidly  revealed  the  whole 
progress  of  his  new  acquisition ; 
and  gave  such  satisfactory  reasons 
for  his  conduct,  that  his  father  at 
last  consented  to  his  relinquishing 
the  study  of  the  law  for  that  of 
music,  though  the  former  had  cost 
him  a  very  considerable  sum. 

The  youth,  being  thus  emanci- 
pated from  a  pursuit  so  irksome 
to  his  feelings,  placed  himself  un- 
proved against  him,  he  would  undoubt- 
edly have  been  found  guilty  of  murder, 
having  certainly  exceeded  his  doty,  and 
been  guilty  of  a  breach  of  that  trust, 
which  the  law  reposed  in  him,  and  be- 
ing therefore  answerable  for  all  conse- 
quences. Various  other  cruelties,  exer- 
cised By  these  wretches,  gave  ris?  to  this 
Committee,  which  the  humane  Thomson 
has  celebrated  in  his  Winter,  line  3^9 
to  38S: 

"  And  here  can  I  forget  the  generous 
tend, "  &c. 


10 


ARN 

der  the  tuition  of  Festin,  an  ex- 
cellent performer  on  the  violin ; 
and  applied  himself  to  the  science 
with  such  assiduity,  that  he  soon 
rivalled  the  eminent  abilities  of  his 
master.  The  superiority  of  his 
execution,  and  the  rank  he  was 
likely  one  day  to  hold  in  the  mu- 
sical world,  recommended  him  to 
a  familiar  intercourse  with  Fari- 
nelli,  Senesino,  Geminiani,  and 
the  other  great  Italian  contempo- 
rary musicians,  through  whose 
means  he  obtained  tree  access  to 
the  King's  Theatre ;  where,  by  a 
constant  and  studious  attendance, 
be  acquired  that  perfection  of  taste 
in  performance  and  composition, 
which  so  highly  distinguished  him. 

The  first  regular  engagement 
into  which  Mr.  Arne  entered,  as 
a  public  performer,  was  that  of 
leader  of  the  band  at  the  Theatre 
Royal  in  Drury  Lane.  In  this  si- 
tuation he  was  distinguished  for 
several  years  ;  and  the  excellence 
of  his  performance  would  alone 
have  been  sufficient  to  immortal- 
ize his  name,  had  he  never  been 
known  as  a  composer. 

At  the  early  age  of  eighteen, 
Mr.  Arne  produced  the  opera  of 
Rosamond;  but  was  not  very  suc- 
cessful in  this  first  attempt,  the 
performance  being  but  little  re- 
lished by  the  public.  Soon  after, 
he  set  to  music  Alfred,  a  masque, 
written,  in  conjunction,  by  Thom- 
son and  Mallet,  for  His  Royal 
Highness  Frederic,  Prince  of  Wales. 
This  was  performed  on  the  1st  of 
August  1/10,  in  the  gardens  of 
Cliefden,  in  commemoration  of  the 
accession  of  George  I.  and  in  ho- 
nour of  the  birth-day  of  the  Prin- 
cess of  Brunswick ;  the  Prince  and 
Princess  of  Wales,  with  their  whole 
court,  being  present  at  the  repre- 
sentation. The  inimitable  masque 
©f  CtmuSj  as  altered,  from  MiHo:i, 


ARN 

and  adapted  for  the  stage  by  Dr. 
Daitcn,  which  was  the  next  in  suc- 
cession, established  Mr.  Arne's 
fame  on  a  solid  basis.  Nothing, 
indeed,  can  be  conceived  more 
perfect  than  the  rich  vein  of  har- 
mony contained  in  the  first  slow 
movement  of  the  overture;  nor 
are  the  successive  symphonies, 
airs,  and  chorusses,  inferior  in 
point  of  merit,  or  less  worthy  of 
admiration. 

It  would  be  an  endless  task  to 
point  out  the  several  beauties  in 
this  great  master's  various  compo- 
sitions; and,  indeed,  the  prsduc- 
tions  themselves  are  so  well  known, 
that  any  particular  panegyric  on 
them  will  be  unnecessary,  when 
we  have  just  mentioned  their  re- 
spective titles. 

Among  these  are,  the  opera  of 
Eliza,  Thomas  and  Sally,  the 
masque  of  Britannia,  the  songs  in 
As  You  Like  It  and  The  Merchant 
of  Venice,  The  Arcadian  Nuptials, 
King  Arthur,  Elfrida,  Caractacus, 
Artaxerxes,  The  Guardian  Out- 
witted, and  The  Rose  (the  three 
last  of  which  were  written,  as 
well  as  composed,  by  Dr.  Arne)  ; 
not  to  mention  the  almost  innu- 
merable cantatas,  songs,  catches, 
and  glees,  sung  at  the  several  places 
of  public  resort,  and  published  in 
collections  under  various  titles.  His 
songs  in  The  Lyric  Harmony  dis- 
play most  exquisite  taste,  and  are 
deemed  the  standards  of  the  true 
genuine  English  ballad. 

In  the  oratorio  style,  Dr.  Arne 
composed  The  Sacrifice,  or,  Death 
of  Ah  el;  Judith;  and  Alfred  the 
Great.  His  last  composition  was 
Caractacus. 

The  degree  of  Doctor  of  Music 
was  conferred  on  Mr.  Arne,  by  the 
university  of  Oxford,  July  6, 1  ~5Q ; 
on  which  occasion  he  composed 
Jin  admission  ode,  which  is  not  in. 


11 


A  R  N 
print.     In  the  26th  year  of  his  age 
he  married  Miss  Cecilia  Young, 
a  pupil  of  Geminiaui,  and  a  fa- 
vourite singer  of  those  times. 

The  following  anecdote  of  Dr. 
Arne  is  curious  and  interesting. 
During  his  residence  at  Ditton, 
near  Hampton  Court,  he  received 
a  visit  from  Mr.  Garrick,  chiefly 
with  a  view  of  hearing  Miss  Brent, 
whose  taste  the  Doctor  had  culti- 
vated with  uncommon  pains,  and 
on  whose  vocal  powers  he  justly 
set  a  very  high  value.  Garrick 
readily  acquiesced  in  her  superior 
merit ;  but  at  the  same  time  told 
the  Doctor,  that  all  his  geese  were 
swans.  "  Tommy  (said  he,  in 
"  his  usual  familiar  way),  you 
"  should  consider  that  music  is, 
"  at  best,  but  pickle  to  my  roast- 

V  beef." — "  By ,  Davy  (re- 

*.'  plied  the  Doctor,  in  a  strain  of 
**  equal  jocularity),  your  beef 
"  shall  be  well  pickled  before  I 
"  have  done."  Miss  Brent  accord- 
ingly made  her  first  appearance  at 
Covent  Garden  in  The  Beggar's 
Opera  ;  which  was  repeated  with 
such  success  through  the  whole 
season,  that  the  Drury  Lane  house 
was  nearly  deserted,  except  on 
those  nights  when  Garrick  himself 
performed.  His  exertions  to  re- 
trieve his  honour  and  interests  on 
this  occasion  proved  a  considerable 
injury  to  his  health,  and  furnished 
the  real  cause  of  his  journey  to 
Italy,  in  company  with  Mrs.  Gar- 
rick. At  his  return,  he  even 
found  himself  obliged  to  gratify 
the  public  taste,  by  pickling  his 
Toast-beef  after  Dr.  Arne's  me- 
thod ;  for  which  purpose  he  en- 
gaged Miss  Wright  (afterwards 
married  to  Mr.  Michael  Arne), 
as  the  only  rival  who  could  be  op- 
posed to  Miss  Brent  with  suc- 
cess. 


A  R  N 

Dr.  Arne  died  on  the  5th  of 
March  1773,  of  a  spasm  on  his 
lungs ;  retaining  his  faculties  to 
the  last  moment  of  his  existence. 
He  had  originally  been  instructed 
in  the  principles  of  the  Romish 
church  :  these,  however,  he  had 
for  many  years  wholly  neglected, 
as  inconsistent  with  a  life  of  ease 
and  gallantry,  in  which  he  in- 
dulged to  the  full  extent  of  his 
purse  and  constitution.  In  his 
last  stage,  the  dormant  seeds  of 
early  maxims  and  prejudices  (as 
is  usually  the  case)  revived  in  his 
bosom,  too  strong  to  be  checked, 
or  perhaps  discriminated,  by  sound 
reason.  The  complicated  train  of 
doubts,  hopes,  and  fears,  operated 
so  forcibly  on  theDoctor's  feelings, 
at  this  awful  period,  that  a  priest 
was  sent  for,  by  whom  he  was 
soon  awed  into  a  state  of  most  sub- 
missive repentance.  In  thus  re- 
newing the  duties  of  the  Christian, 
those  of  his  professional  line  were 
not  forgotten ;  for  about  an  hour 
before  his  death  he  sung  an 
harmonious  Halleluja  ;  a  flight  of 
fancy,  calculated,  as  it  were,  to 
usher  him  into  the  other  world. 

Though  possessed  of  abilities 
which  seemed  to  promise  him  both 
fortune  and  reputation,  he  was 
always  in  narrow  circumstances; 
to  which  an  unbounded  attach- 
ment to  the  fair  sex  might  a  good 
deal  contribute.  He  was  author 
of  the  following  pieces : 

1.  Artaxerxes.    Op.    8vo.  IJ61. 

2.  The  Guardian  Outwitted.  C. 
Op.    8vo.  1764. 

3.  The  Rose.  Com.  Op.  8vo. 
1773. 

4.  The  Contest  of  Beauty  and 
Virtue.     M.     4to.  1773. 

5.  A  Pasticcio.     4 to.  1773. 

6.  Phosle  at  Court.  Op.  4tos 
J/7^ 


12 


ARN 

Dr.  Arne  was  the  supposed  au- 
thor also  of, 

7.  The  Cooper.  M.  Ent.  8vo. 
1772. 

8.  Don  Saverio.  M.  D.  4to. 
1750. 

Arnold,  Cornelius.  Of  this 
author  we  can  learn  no  particulars, 
except  that  we  are  told  he  was  at 
one  time  one  of  the  ushers  of 
Merchant  Taylors'  School.  But 
this  seems  not  to  have  very  natu- 
rally led  to  his  ultimate  station  ; 
for  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life  he 
was  beadle  of  the  Distillers'  Com- 
pany. In  a  volume  of  Poems, 
published  in  \J57,  in  4to.  is  a 
play  by  him  called 

Osman.     Trag. 

Arnold, .    Author  of 

The  Secret,  or  Nothing.  Dr. 
Piece.     IS07.     N.  P. 

Arnold,  Samuel  James.  This 
gentleman  is  the  son  of  the  late 
Dr.  Arnold,  of  musical  celebrity, 
and  is  married  to  a  daughter  of 
Mr.  Pye,  the  poet-laureate.  He 
is  a  proprietor  of  an  establishment 
at  the  Lyceum  for  the  perform- 
ance of  English  Operas  in  the  sum- 
mer season  ;  and,  besides  a  novel, 
in  three  volumes,  1796,  called  The 
Creole,  or  Haunted  Island,  has 
produced  the  following  dramatic 
pieces  : 

1.  Auld  Rolin  Gray.  M.  Ent. 
8vo.  1794. 

2.  Who  pays  the  Reckoning? 
M.  E.     1795.    N.  P. 

3.  Shipwreck.    Com.  Op.    Svo. 

1796. 

4.  Irish  Legacy.     M.F.     1797 . 

N.P. 

5.  Veteran  Tar.  C.  Op.  Svo. 
1S01. 

6.  Foul  Deeds  will  rise.  M.  D. 
Svo.  1804. 

7.  Prior  Claim.  C.  8vo.  1805 
$1  conjunction  with  Mr.  Pye). , 


ASP 


8.  Up  all  Night.  CO.  I8O9. 
N.  P. 

9.  Britain  s  Jubilee.  M.  Piece. 
I8O9.    N.  P. 

10.  Man  and  Wife.  C.  8vo, 
I8O9. 

11.  The  Maniac.  S.  CO.  1810. 
N.P. 

12.  Plots!  Mel. Dr. Op.  1810. 
N.  P. 

Arrowsmith,  Mr.  This  gen- 
tleman was  of  Cambridge,  and 
had  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts. 
Langbaine  alone  informs  us,  that 
to  him  was  ascribed  a  play,  which, 
however,  was  published  anony- 
mously, entitled 

The  Reformation.  C  4to.  1673. 

Arthur,  J.  was  a  player  of 
eminence  in  the  characters  of  old 
men,  and  for  several  years  per- 
formed at  Covent  Garden  Theatre. 
He  afterwards  became  manager  of 
the  playhouse  at  Bath,  and  died 
April  8,   1772. 

About  the  year  1754,  was  acted 
at  Covent  Garden,  for  his  benefit, 
a  ballad  opera,  written,  as  he  said, 
by  himself,  and  which  had  been 
acted  at  the  same  theatre,  and 
printed  in  1738.     It  was  called 

The  Lucky  Discovery  -}  or,  The 
Tanner  of  York.     8vb. 

Ashe,  Nicholas.  We  take 
this  writer  to  be  a  resident  of  Ire- 
land ;  his  only  dramatic  piece 
having  been  printed  in  Dublin, 
viz. 

Panthea.     Trag.     12mo.  1803. 

Ashton,  Roeert.  This  au- 
thor was  of  the  kingdom  of  Ire- 
land, and  wrote  one  play,  which, 
from  a  passage  in  the  Epilogue, 
appears  to  have  been  produced  in 
the  year  1/27-     It  is  called 

The  Battle  of  Aughrim ;  or,  The 
Fall  of  Monsieur  St.  Ruth.  Trag. 
Printed  several  times  in  Dublin. 

Aspinwall,    Stanhope.      A 


13 


AST 


gentleman  of  both  these  names, 
we  are  informed,  was  private 
secretary  to  Earl  Harcourt  while 
ambassador  to  the  court  of 
France.  He  died  at  Paris  the 
17th  of  January  1771>  and  pro- 
bably was  the  same  person  who 
published  one  tragedy,  done,  as 
the  title-page  declares,  from  the 
French  of  Corneille,  called 

Rodogune ;  or,  The  Rival  Bro- 
thers.    8vo.  1765. 

Aston,  Anthony,  common- 
ly called  Tony  Aston,  was  the  son 
•fa  gentleman  who  had  formerly 
been  master  of  the  Plea  Office,  in 
the  King's  Bench.  He  was  bred 
an  attorney ;  but  having  a  smat- 
tering of  humour,  be  left  the  study 
of  the  law  for  the  stage.  He  play- 
ed on  all  the  theatres  in  London, 
but  never  long  in  any  of  them, 
being  of  too  flighty  a  disposition 
to  settle  any  where.  His  way  of 
living  was  peculiar  to  himself  and 
family  ;  resorting  to  the  principal 
cities  and  towns  in  England  with 
his  Medley,  as  he  called  it,  which 
was  composed  of  some  capital 
scenes  of  humour  out  of  the  most 
celebrated  plays.  His  company 
consisted  only  of  himself,  his  wife, 
and  son ;  and  between  every  scene 
a  song  or  dialogue  of  his  own 
composing  was  sung  or  perform »d, 
to  fill  up  the  interval.  He  pre- 
tended a  right  to  every  town  he 
entered ;  and  whenever  another 
company  interfered  with  him,  he 
was  very  attentive  and  dexterous  in 
laying  them  under  contribution. 
In  1735,  he  petitioned  the  House 
of  Commons  to  be  heard  against 
the  bill  then  pending  for  regula- 
ting the  stage,  and  was  permitted 
to  deliver  a  ludicrous  speech,  which 
was  afterwards  published,  in  folio, 
3/35.  Chetwood,  in  his  History 
of  the  Stage,  printed  1749,  ima- 
gines that  our  author   was  then 


AYR 

living,  and  travelling  in  some  part 
of  the  kingdom. 
He  is  the  author  of 

1 .  Love  in  a  Hurry.  Com .  1 700. 

2.  Pastor  a;  or,  The  Coy  Shep- 
herdess.   Op.  Svo.    1712. 

And  very  probably,  under  the 
fictitious  name  of  Matthew  Med- 
ley, of 

3.  The  Fools  Opera.  8vo.  1731. 
Aston,  Walter.    This  author 

is  only  known  as  the  writer  of  one 
piece,  which  was  forbidden  to  be 
represented,  called, 

The  Restoration  of  King  Charles 
the  Second;  or,  The  Life  and  Death 
of  Oliver  Cromwell.  Bal.  Op.  Svo. 
1733. 

Atkinson,  Joseph.  This 
gentleman  is  a  native  of  Ireland, 
and  an  officer  in  the  army,  and 
has  written  the  following  dramatic 
pieces  : 

1.  Mutual  Deception.  Com.  Svo. 
17S5. 

2.  Match  for  a  Widow.  Com. 
Op.  8vo.  1783. 

3.  Love  in  a  Blaze.  Com.  Op. 
12mo.   1S00, 

Aubert,  Mrs.  To  a  lady  of 
this  name  has  been  ascribed, 

Harlequin  Hydaspes.  Mock  Op. 
Svo.   1719. 

Aubin,  Mrs.  was  author  of 

The  Merry  Masuueraders.  Com. 
Svo.   1730. 

Averay,  Robert.  This  wri- 
ter is  totally  unknown.  There  is, 
however,  .in  print  by  him  on& 
dramatic  performance,  called, 

Britannia  and  the  Gods  in  Coun- 
cil.    Dram.  Piece.  4to.  175O'. 

Ayre,  William.  Of  this 
gentleman  we  know  nothing  more 
than  that  he  has  favoured  the 
public  with  a  translation  of  that 
celebrated  dramatic  pastoral  of 
Tasso,  called, 

Amintas.  Svo.  N.  D.  [1 737.3 
and  alfc  with  that  of  an  Italian 


14 


AYS 

tragedy,  the  original  text  of  which 
he  has  printed  page  by  page  with 
his  translation,  entitled, 

Merope.     8vo.  1740. 

Ayres,  James.  This  author 
is  mentioned  no  where  but  in  The 
British  Theatre,  where  he  is  said 
to  be  a  native  of  Ireland.  He  has 
written  two  dramatic  pieces,  en- 
titled, 

1.  Sancho  at  Court.  Opera- 
Comedy.     Svo.   1742. 

2.  The  Kiss  accepted  and  re- 
turned. Operetta.  1/44.  Not 
printed. 

Ayscotjgh,  George  Edward. 
This  gentleman  was  son  of  Dr. 
Francis  Ayscough,  Dean  of  Bris- 


A  Y  S 
tol,  by  a  sister  of  the  first  Lord 
Lyttelton.  He  was  brought  up  in 
the  army,  and  for  some  time  had 
a  commission  in  the  guards.  A  bad 
state  of  health  compelled  him 
to  relinquish  his  profession,  and 
obliged  him  to  travel  into  Italy. 
His  disorder  was  not  relieve .1  by 
these  measures,  he  continued  lin- 
gering for  seme  time,  and  in  the 
end  died  on  the  14th  day  of 
October  1 7/0.  Ha  was  the  pub- 
lisher of  the  Miscellaneous  Works 
of  his  uncle  Lord  Lyttelton,  and 
wrote  some  account  of  his  own 
travels.  He  was  the  author  of  one 
play,  called, 

Semiramis.     Trag.    Svo.   1776. 


B. 


BAC 

JL>.  G.    These  initials  are  affixed 
to  a  play,  called 

Love  the  Leveller.  4to.  1704. 

B.  H.  H.  These  we  find  annex- 
ed to 

The  World's  Idol.  Com.  from 
the  Greek.     Svo.   165Q. 

B.  W.  This  author  is  mention- 
ed by  the  above  initials,  which 
are  prefixed  to  a  little  piece  never 
acted,   but  printed  by  the  title  of 

The  Juror.     Farce.  Svo. 
This  piece  was  published  in  1/18. 

Bacon,  Dr.  Phanuel,  a  native 
of  Redding.  He  was  of  Magdalen 
College,  Oxford}  took  the  degree 
of  M.  A.  April  17,  1722;  B.  D. 
April  29,  1/31  3  and  of  D.D.Dec. 
9,  1735.  He  was  vicar  of  Bram- 
ber,  in  Sussex,  and  rector  of  Bal- 


B  A  C 


den,  in  Oxfordshire,  where  he 
died  in  January  1783,  in  his  S3d 
year.  He  was  possessed  of  ex- 
quisite humour,  with  a  strong  in- 
clination for  punning.  The  Kite, 
a  poem,  was  published  by  him  in 
1719,  and  may  be  seen  in  The 
Gentleman  s  Magazine,  for  1758. 
He  wrote  also  five  dramatic  per- 
formances, viz. 

1.  The  Taxes.  D.  E.  Svo.  1757. 

2.  The  lnsigvificants.     C.  Svo. 
1757. 

3 .  The  Tryal  of  the  Time -killers. 
C.  8vo.  1757. 

4.  The  Moral  Quack.  D.  S.  Svo. 
1757. 

5.  Vie  Oculist.  D.E.  Svo.  1757. 
These  were  afterwards  collected 

in  a  volume,    and  entitled,  Hu* 


15 


B  A  I 


morons  Ethicks.  He  was  author 
of  The  Snipe,  one  of  the  best  bal- 
lads in  the  English  language,  and 
founded  on  a  real  fact ;  for  the 
Friar  denoted  the  author  himself, 
and  Peter  his  fellow-collegian, 
Peter  Zinzan,  M.  D.  This  ballad, 
and  A  Song  of  Similies,  by  Dr. 
Bacon,  are  preserved  in  The  Ox- 
ford Sam  age. 

Bacon,  James.  Of  this  person 
we  know  no  more  than  that  he  is 
author  of 

The  American  Indian.  P.  8vo. 
1795. 

Bailey,  Abraham,  was  a 
member  of  the  honourable  society 
of  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  in  the  early 
part  of  his  life  wrote  a  play,  called 

The  Spightful  /Sister.  C.  4to. 
1007. 

Baillie,  John,  a  Scots  advo- 
cate, wrote,  but  published  with- 
out his  name, 

The  Patriot.  D.  H.  4to.  1736. 

Baillie,  Dr.  John.  This  gen- 
tleman was  one  of  the  physicians 
to  St.  George's  Hospital,  and  also 
physician  to  the  English  army  in 
Flanders.  He  died  of  a  spotted 
fever,  at  Ghent,  in  December  1  743 . 
He  is  said  to  have  been  of  a  very 
amiable  disposition,  and  his  loss 
was  much  regretted  by  his  friends. 

After  his  death  was  published, 
by  subscription,  for  the  benefit  of 
his  widow, 

The  Married  Coquet.  C.  8vo. 
1  746. 

Baillie,  Joanna.  This  lady 
was  born  about  17^4,  or  1/65,  at 
Bothwell,  in  Scotland ;  of  which 
place  her  father,  the  Rev.  James 
Baillie,  was  minister.  Her  mo- 
ther was  Dorothea,  sister  of  John 
and  William  Hunter.  Her  father 
was  afterwards  junior  minister  of 
Hamilton ;  whence  he  was  re- 
moved to  the  divinity  professor- 
•hip  of  Glasgow,  where  he  died 


B  A  K 

in  1/78.   Her  brother  is  Matthew 
Baillie,  M.  D.  and  F.  R.  S. 

Miss  Baillie  has  published  "  A 
"  Series  of  Plays,"  in  two  8vo. 
volumes,  "  in  which  it  has  been 
"  attempted  to  delineate  the 
"  stronger  passions  of  the  mind; 
"  each  passion  being  the  subject 
"  of  a  tragedy  and  a  comedy."  She 
has  also  published  a  volume  of 
"  Miscellaneous  Plays."  Her  ta- 
lents for  dramatic  writing  are  of  a 
superior  kind;  but  it  is  in  the 
composition  of  tragedy  that  she 
shines  with  the  greatest  splendour. 
A  strong  conception  of  character, 
an  accurate  delineation  of  the  va- 
rious feelings  and  passions,  vivid 
imagery,  and  a  great  command  of 
poetical  diction,  strongly  charac- 
terize her  tragic  efforts.  Her  co- 
medy, though  above  mediocrity, 
is  not  equal  to  her  other  style  of 
writing.  Her  plays  are  as  fol- 
low: 

1.  Count  Basil.  T.  8vo.  1798.- 

2.  Mnnfurt.  T.  Svo.  1798. 

3.  The  Tryal.  C.  8vo.  179s. 

4.  The  Election.  C.   Svo.  1802. 

5.  Ethwald.  T.  in  two  Parts. 
Svo.  1S02. 

6.  Second  Marriage.  C.  Svo. 
1S02. 

7.  Cons  tan  tine  Paleologus.  T. 
Svo.   1804. 

8.  The  Country  Inn.  C.  Svo. 
1S04. 

9.  Rayner.   T.  Svo.  1S04. 

10.  The  Family  Legend.  T.  Svo. 
1810. 

Baker,  Thomas.  This  gentle- 
man was  the  son  of  a  very  emi- 
nent attorney  in  the  city  of  Lon- 
don, and  was  some  time  of  the 
university  of  Oxford.  His  tui» 
was  entirely  to  comedy ;  his 
plays  in  general  met  with  success, 
and  were  held  in  good  estimation. 
Nor  was  that  approbation  by  an" 
means  unjust,  notwithstanding  the 


16 


BAR 
slight. r.g  manner  in  whieh  Mr. 
WhinQQp  has  spoken  of  his  writ- 
ings. His  plots  are  in  general  his 
own,  his  conduct  or  them  pleas- 
ing, his  characters  strongly  drawn 
(which  is  certainly  one  of  the 
greatest  perfections  of  comedy), 
his  language  easy  and  agreeable, 
his  wit  pure  and  genuine,  and  his 
sat. re  just  and  poignant.  We  have 
the  more  readily  entered  into  this 
encomium,  which  we  think  his 
writings  deserve,  to  vindicate  their 
character,  as  well  as  the  judgment 
of  the  public  which  gave  them  the 
sanction  of  applause,  from  the 
contempt  thrown  on  them  by  Mr. 
Whincop,  who  is  the  only  writer 
that  has  attempted  to  give  them 
any  character  at  all,  and  who  in- 
deed contradicts  himself  in  the 
character  he  has  given,  since  he 
denies  them  both  wit  and  humour, 
and  yet  allows  them  to  possess  the 
vis  comica  (or,  as  he  calls  it, 
"  something  to  make  one  laugh"), 
which  certainly  can  never  subsist 
without  one  or  the  other  of  these 
two  properties ;  but  indeed  Mr. 
Whincop  seems  on  the  whole  to 
write  with  some  degree  of  preju- 
dice against  him,  throwing  the 
same  kind  of  abuse  on  a  periodical 
paper,  which  he  was  the  author  of, 
called  The  Female  Taller. 

The  dramatic  pieces  he  has  left 
behind  him  are  five  in  number, 
and  their  titles  as  follow  : 

1.  Humour  of  the  Age.  Com. 
4to.   1/01. 

2.  Tunbridge  Walks.  C^m.  4to. 
1703. 

3.  Act  at  Oxford.  Com.  4to. 
1/04. 

4.  Hampstead  Heath.  Com.  4to. 
1706. 

5.  The  Fine  Lady's  Airs.  Com. 
4 to.  N.  D.  [1709-] 

AJ1  of  them  have  a  considerable 


B  A  K 

share  of  merit  ;  yet  only  one 
among  the  number  has  been  acted 
within  these  fifty  years,  viz.  Tun- 
Iridgc  Walks. 

There  is  an  anecdote,  in  regard 
to  a  character  in  this  comedy,  with 
respect  to  the  author's  character, 
which  we  might  properly  have 
taken  notice  of  here,  but  that  the 
reader  will  find  it  in  the  second 
part  of  this  work,  in  our  account 
or  the  piece  itself. 

Whether  the  effeminate  turn  of 
disposition  there  hinted  at,  or  this 
gentleman's  attachment  to  the 
Muses,  drew  him  from  any  appli- 
cation to  business,  or  from  what 
other  cause  we  know  not ;  but 
during  the  latter  part  of  his  life  he 
stood  on  but  indifferent  terms  with 
his  father,  who  allowing  him  only  a 
very  scanty  income,  he  was  oblig- 
ed to  retire  into  Worcestershire, 
where,  Whincop  tells  us,  he  is 
reported  to  have  died  of  that  loath- 
some disorder  the  morlus  pedicu- 
losus. 

Baker,  David  Erskine,  to 
whom  the  public  are  indebted  for 
the  first  edition  of  this  work,  was 
the  eldest  son  of  Henry  Baker,  a 
gentleman  well  known  in  the  phi- 
losophical world,  by  a  daughter  of 
the  celebrated  Daniel  Defoe.  Being 
adopted  by  an  uncle,  who  was  a 
silk-throwster  in  Spital  Fields,  he 
succeeded  him  in  his  business  j  but 
wanting  the  prudence  and  attention 
which  are  necessary  to  secure  suc- 
cess in  trade,  he  soon  failed.  He 
was  the  author  of  several  occasional 
Poems  in  the  periodical  collections, 
and  of  one  dramatic  piece, 

The  Muse  ofOssian  ;  a  dramatic 
Poem,  selected  from  the  Poems  of 
Ossian,  acted  and  printed  at  Edin- 
burgh, J2mo.  1763;  where  it  is 
believed  the  author  died,  about 
17/0,  w  indigence. 


B  A  L 

Baker,  Robert.  This  author 
is  only  known  by  having;  produced 
one  dramatic  piece,  calied, 

The  Mad  House.  B.O.  Svo.  1/37. 
Bale,  Johx,  is  more  known  as 
an  historian,  and  controversialist, 
than   as  a  dramatic  writer.      He 
was  born  on  the  21st  of  November 
1JJJ5,  at  Cove,  a  small  village  near 
Dunwich,    in    Suffolk.     His    pa- 
rents, having  many  other  children, 
and  not  being  in  very  affluent  cir- 
cumstances, sent  him,  at  the  age 
of  twelve  years,  to  the  monastery 
of  Carmelites  at  Norwich,   where 
he  received  part  of  his  education  ; 
he  afterwards  studied  at   Hulnis 
Abbey,  in   Xorthumbeiland,  and 
from  thence  removed  to  Si.  John's 
College,  Cambridge.      While  he 
continued  at  the  university,  being, 
as  he  says,  seriously  stirred  up  by 
the    illustrious    the    Lord  Went- 
worth,  he  renounced  the  tenets  of 
the  church  of  Rome;   and,  that  he 
might  never  more  serve  so  exe- 
crable a  beast,  I  took,  says  he,  to 
wife  the  faithful  Dorothy,  in  obe- 
dience  to  that  diviue  command, 
"  Let  him    that   cannot   contain, 
"  marry."     Bishop  Nicolson   in- 
sinuates, that  his  dislike  to  a  state 
of  celibacy  was  the  means  of  his 
conversion,  more  than  any  doubts 
which    he   entertained  about  the 
truth  of  his  faith.     The  change  of 
his  religion  exposed  him  to  the 
persecution  of  the  Romish  clergy, 
particularly  of  Lee  Archbishop  of 
York,    and   Stokesley  Bishop   of 
London :    but  he  found  an  able 
and  powerful  protector  in  the  per- 
«on    of   Lord   Cromwell,  the   fa- 
vourite of  Henry  the  Eighth.    On 
the  death  of  this   nobleman,   he 
withdrew  into  the  Low  Countries, 
and  resided  there  eight  years ;  in 
which  time  he  wrote  several  pieces 
in  the  English  language.     On  the 
accession  of  King  Edward  the  Sixth, 

VOL-  b 


17 

B  A  L 
he  was  recalled  into  England,  and 
obtained    the    living   of    Bishops 
Stocke,  in  the  county  o(  South- 
ampton.    During  his  residence  at 
his  living,  he  was  almost  brought 
to  the  point  of  death  by  an  ague ; 
when  hearing  that  the  King  was 
come  in  progress  to  Southampton, 
five  miles    only  from   where   he 
dwelt,  he  went  to  pay  his  respects 
to  him.   "  I  toke  my  horse,"  says 
he,  "about  10  of  the  clocke,  for 
"  very  weaknesse  scant  able  to  sytt 
"  hym,  and  so  came  thydre.    Be- 
"  twixttwoandthreeoftheclocke, 
"  the  same  day,  I  drew  towardes 
"  the  place  where  as  his  Alajestie 
■**  was,  and  stode  in  the  open  strete 
"  ryghtagainstthegallerye.  Anon, 
"  my  frinde  Johan  Fylpot,  a  gen- 
"  tylman,  and  one  of  hys  previe 
"  chambre,  called  unto  him  two 
"  more  of  hys  companions,  which. 
"  in  mo\  ing  their  heades  towardes 
"  me,  shewed  me  most  frendely 
"  countenaunces.  By  one  of  these 
"  three  tie  Kynge  havynge  infor- 
"  macion  that  1  was  there  in  the 
"  strete,  he  marveled  thereof,  for  so 
"  much  as  it  had  bene  tolde  hvm 
"  a  lytle  afore  that  I  was  bothe 
"  dead   and   buried.     With   that 
"  h\  s  Gracecame  to  the  wyndowe, 
"  and  earnestly  behelde  me  a  poore 
•*  weake  creature,  as  though  he 
**  had  had  upon  me,  so  symple  a 
"  subject,  an  earnest  regard,  orra- 
"  ther  a  very  fatherly  care."  This 
visit    to  the  King  occasioned  his 
immediate    appointment    to    the 
bishopric  of  Ossorv,   which   was 
settled  the  next  day,  as  he  declared 
afterwards,  against  his  will,  of  the 
King's  own  were  viotion  only  .with- 
out suit  of  friends,   weed,   labour, 
expenses,  or  any  other  sinister  weans 
else.  On  the  20th  of  March  1553, 
he  was  consecrated  at  Dublin  by 
the  archbishop  of  that  see,   and 
underwent  a  variety  of  persfpu- 


IS 


B  A  L 


lions  from   the   Topibh   party  in 
Ireland,  which  at  length  compel- 
led him  to  leave  his  diocese,  and 
conceal  himself  in  Dublin.     En- 
deavouring to  escape  from  thence, 
in  a  small  trading  vessel,  he  was 
taken  prisoner  by  the  captain  of  a 
Dutch   man   of   war,   who   rifled 
him  of  all  his  money,  apparel,  and 
effects.    The  ship  was  then  driven 
by  stress  of  weather  into  St.  Ives, 
in  Cornwall,  where  he  was  taken 
up  on  suspicion  of  high  treason, 
but  soon  discharged.   From  thence, 
after  a  cruise  of  several  days,  the 
ship  arrived  in  Dover  Road,  and 
he  was  again  put  in  danger  by. a 
false  accusation.     On   his  arrival 
m  Holland,  he  was  kept  prisoner 
three   weeks,  and    then  obtained 
his  liberty,  on  payment  of  a  sum 
of  money.     From  Holland  he  re- 
tired to  Basil,  in  Switzerland,  and 
continued  abroad  during  the  re- 
mainder of  Queen  Mary's  reign. 
On  the  accession  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth,   he   returned   to    England  3 
but  being  disgusted  with  the  treat- 
ment he  met  with  in  Ireland,  he 
went  thither  no  more.     He  was 
promoted,  on  the  15th  of  January 
15(30,  to  a  prebend  in  the  cathedral 
church  of  Canterbury,  and   died 
in  that  city,  in  November  1563, 
in  the  (38th  year  of  his  age.     Ac- 
cording to  the  manners  of  the  times 
in  which  he  wrote,  he  appears  to 
have  taken  very  indecent  liberties 
with  all  his  antagonists  in  his  re- 
ligious controversies,  and  to  have 
considered  himself  as  not  bound  by 
any  rules  of  decorum  in  replying 
to  those  from  whom  he  differed  in 
matters  wherein  the  interests  of 
religion  were  concerned.  The  acri- 
mony of  his  style  on  these  occa- 
sions acquired  him  the  appellation 
of  Bilious  Bale,  and  it  was  applied 
to    him    with   singular   propriety. 
His  principal  work  is  esteemed  the 


B  A  L 

Scrip torum  ilhutrium  majoris  Bry- 
tannice,  quam  nunc  Angliam  et  Sco- 
tiam  vacant,  Catalogus  3  a  Japheto 
per  3(31  S  a?iitOS  usque  ad  annum, 
luinc  Domini  1557,  &c.  first  printed 
imperfectly  at  "YVesel,  1549,  and 
afterwards  more  complete  in  1557 
and  1559.  He  was  the  author  of 
a  great  number  of  dramatic  pieces, 
four  of  which  only  appear  to  have 
been  published,  viz. 

1.  A  Tragedyeor  Enlerlude,  ma- 
nyfesting  the  ckefe  prowyses  of  God 
unto  Man  in  all  ages  of  the  olde 
law  e,  from  the  fall  of  Adam  to  the 
Incarnaycion  of  the  Lorde  Jesus 
Christ.  Compyled  lv  Johan  Bale, 
Anno  Domini  1538.  Svo.  Re- 
printed in  Dodsley's  Collection  of 
Old  Plays. 

Another  edition  of  this  perform- 
ance was  printed  in  4  to.  by  John 
Charlewood,  1577  >  and  in  the 
title-page  said  to  be  now  fyrst  im- 
printed.    (See  Ames,  369.) 

2.  A  Irefe  Comedy  or  Enterlude 
of  Johan  Baptystes  preachyng  in 
the  Wildernesse,  the  crafty  assaultes 
of  the  hypocrytes,  with  the  glory ouse 
laptysme  of  the  Lorde  Jesus  Christ. 
Compyled  by  Johan  Bale,  Anno 
1538.  8vo.  Reprinted  in  the 
Harleian  Miscellany,  vol.  i.  p. 
37. 

3.  A  Irefe  Comedy  or  Enterlude, 
concernynge  the  templatyon  of  our 
Lorde  and  Saver  Jesus  Christ  ly 
Sathan  in  the  desart.  Compyled 
by  Johan  Bale.  Anno  1538.  8vo. 
(Ames,  497,  498.) 

According  to  Ames,  all  thase 
pieces  were  originally  printed 
-  abroad. 

He  also  translated  into  English 
the  tragedies  of  Pammachius;  and, 
in  his  Account  of  the  writers  of 
Britain,  besides  the  plays  already 
mentioned,  he  has  given  the  fol- 
lowing list  of  his  other  dramatic 
performances. 


19 


B  A  N 

4.  Of  Christ  when  he  was  twelve 
Years  old,  one  Gomedy. 

5.  Of  Baptism  arid  Temptation, 
two  Comedies. 

6.  Of  Lazarus  raised  from  the 
Dead,  one  Comedy. 

7.  Of  the  Councells  of  Bishops, 
one  Comedy. 

8.  Of  Simon  the  Leper,  one 
Comedy. 

g.  Of  the  Lord's  Sapper  and 
icashing  ike  Feet,  one  Comedy. 

10.  Of  the  Passion  'f  Clay  it, two 
Corned 

11.  Of  the  Sepulture  and  Resur- 
rection, two  Comedies. 

12.  I  port  both  Marriages  of  the 
King. 

13.  Against  Mvmus's  and  Zoi- 
lus's. 

14.  The  Treacheries  of  the  Pa- 
pysts. 

15.  A 'gainst  those  who  adulterate 
the  Word  of  God. 

16.  Of  John  King  of  England. 

17.  Of  the  Impostures  of  Thomas 
Becket. 

18.  Corruptions  of  the  Divine 
Lairs. 

If).   The  Image  of  Love. 

He  also  wrote, 

20.  A  Comedy  e  conctrnynge  Three 
Laws  of  Nature,  Moses,  and  Chiist, 
tSfc.  4to.   1558. 

Ball,  Ed.mukd,  is  known  to 
ns  only  as  having  written 

The  Beautiful  Armenia.  Com. 
12mo.   1/78. 

He  is  probably  also  the  author  of 

A  Bloody  Plot  discovered.  Trag. 
Svo.   1/80. 

Bancroft,  John.  This  author 
was  by  profession  a  surgeon  ;  and 
happening  to  have  a  good  deal  of 
practice  among  the  young  wits  and 
frequenters  of  the  theatres,  whom 
the  warm  favours  they  had  met 
with  among  the  fair  devotees  of 
the  Paphian  goddess  drove  to  seek 
his  advice  and  assistance,  he  ac-> 


B  A  N 
quired  from  their  conversation  a 
passion  for  the  Muses,  and  an  in- 
clination to  signalize  himself  in 
their  service:  inconsequence  ot 
which  inclination  he  made  two  es- 
says in  the  dramatic  way,  neither 
of  which  are  devoid  of  merit,  nor 
failed  of  meeting  with  some  de- 
gree of  success,  viz. 

1.  Sertorius.    Trag.  4to.   l6'/U 

2.  Henry  II.  Trag.   4to.   J  693. 
He  died  in  the  year  1696,  and 

lies  interred  in  St.  Paul's,  Coven* 
Garden.  It  is  not  improbable  that 
he  might  be  related  to,  or  a  de- 
lant  from,  Mr.  Thomas  Ban- 
croft, of  Swanton,  in  Derbyshire, 
whom  Sir  Aston  Cokain  has  cele- 
brated as  a  poet  of  esteem.  See 
Cokain's  Poems,  Svo.  1658,  p. 
103.    112.    Il6.   156. 

Coxeter  attributes  another  play 
to  this  author,  which  however,,  he 
says,  lie  made  a  present,  both  of  the 
reputation  and  profits  of,  to  Mount- 
fort  the  player.    It  was  entitled, 

3.  Edward  III.  H.P.  4to.  1691. 
Banister,     Rev.    James,      is 

author  of  A  View  of  the  Arts  and 
Sciences,  from  the  earliest  Time  to 
the  Age  of  Alexander  the  Great. 
Svo.  1/85;  and  a  translation  of  all 
the  Pythian,  Nemean,  and  Isthmian 
Odes  of  Pindar,  except  the  fourth 
and  fifth  Pythian  Odes,  and  those 
which  have  been  translated  iy  Gil- 
bert  West.  8vo.  1/92.  But  hi,  place 
in  these  pages  he  owes  to  a  nai il- 
lation, rather  close  and  faithful 
than  spirited  and  poetic,  of  the 
following  tragedies  of  Euripides  : 

1 .  Iphigenia  inAulis. T.Svo.  1 780 

2.  Orestes,     T.  Svo.  17  SO. 

3.  Phamiss*.     T.  Svo.  17SO. 

4.  Troades.     T.   Svo.   1780. 

Banks,  John.  This  gentle- 
man was  bred  an  attorney  at  law, 
and  belonged  to  the  society  of 
New  Inn.  The  dry  study  of  the 
law,  however,  not  being  so  suitable 

c  2 


20 
BAN 
fo  hit  natural  disposition  as  the 
more  elevated  flights  of  poetical 
imagination,  lie  quitted  the  pur- 
suit of  riches  in  the  Inns  of  Court, 
for  the  paying  his  attendance  on 
these  ragged  jades  the  Muses  in  the 
theatre.  Here,  however,  he  found 
his  rewards  by  no  means  adequate 
to  his  deserts.  His  emoluments  at 
the  best  were  precarious,  and  the 
various  successes  of  his  pieces  too 
feelingly  convinced  him  of  the 
error  in  his  choice.  This,  how- 
ever, did  not  prevent  him  from 
pursuing  with  cheerfulness  the  path 
he  had  taken  ;  his  thirst  of  fame, 
and  warmth  of  poetic  enthusiasm, 
alleviating  to  his  imagination  many 
disagreeable  circumstances,  into 
which  indigence,  the  too  frequent 
attendant  on  poetical  pursuits, 
«ften  threw  him. 

His  turn  was  entirely  to  tragedy ; 
his  merit  in  which  is  of  a  pecu- 
liar kind.  For  at  the  same  time 
that  his  language  must  be  confessed 
to  be  extremely  unpoetical,  and 
his  numbers  uncouth  and  inharmo- 
nious ;  nay,  even  his  characters 
very  far  from  being  strongly  mark- 
ed or  distinguished,  and  his  epi- 
sodes extremely  irregular ;  yet  it 
is  impossible  to  avoid  being  deeply 
affected  at  the  representation,  and 
•ven  at  the  reading,  of  his  tragic 
pieces.  This  is  owing  in  the  ge- 
neral to  a  happy  choice  of  his. 
subjects,  which  are  all  borrowed 
from  history,  either  real  or  roman- 
tic ;  and  indeed  the  most  of  them 
from  circumstances  in  the  annals 
of  our  own  country,  which,  not 
only  from  their  being  familiar  to 
our  continual  recollection,  but  even 
from  their  having  some  degree  of 
relation  to  ourselves,  we  are  apt  to 
receive  with  a  kind  of  partial  pre- 
possession, and  a  predetermination 
to  be  pleased.  He  has  constantly 
•hosen  a*  the  Vases  of  hi*  p^ays 


BAN 

such  tales  as  were  in  themselves 
and  their  well-known  catastrophes 
most  truly  adapted  to  the  purposes 
of  the  drama.  He  has  indeed  but 
little  varied  from  the  strictness  of 
historical  facts,  yet  he  seems  to 
have  made  it  his  constant  rule  to 
keep  the  scene  perpetually  alive, 
and  never  suffer  his  characters  to 
droop.  His  verse  is  not  poetry, 
but  prose  run  mad.  Yet  will  the 
false  gem  sometimes  approach  so 
near  in  glitter  to  the  true  one,  at 
least  in  the  eyes  of  all  but  the  real 
connoisseurs  (and  how  small  a 
part  of  an  audience  are  to  be 
ranked  in  this  class  will  need  no 
ghost  to  inform  us),  that  bombast 
will  frequently  pass  for  the  true 
sublime  ;  and  where  it  is  render- 
ed the  vehicle  of  incidents  in 
themselves  affecting,  and  in  which 
the  heart  is  apt  to  interest  itself,  it 
will  perhaps  be  found  to  have  a 
stronger  power  on  the  human  pas- 
sions than  even  that  property  to 
which  it  is  in  reality  no  more  man 
a  bare  succedaneum.  And  from 
these  principles  it  is,  that  we  must 
account  for  Mr.  Banks's  writings 
having  in  the  general  drawn  more 
tears  from,  and  excited  more  ter- 
ror in,  even  judicious  audiences, 
than  those  of  much  more  correct 
and  more  truly  poetical  authors. 

The  tragedies  he  has  left  be- 
hind him  are  seven  in  number, 
and  are  as  follow  : 

1.  Rival  Kings.  Tr.  4to.  1677. 

2.  Destruction  of  Troy.  Tr.  4to 

16/9- 

3.  Virtue  letrayd.  Tr.4to.l682. 

4.  Island  Queens.  Tr.  4to.  1684. 

5.  Unhappy  Favourite.  Tr.  4to, 
1682. 

6.  Innocent  Usurper.  Tr.  4to 
1694. 

7.  Cyrus  the  Great.  Tr.  4 to. 
I696. 

Of  these,  few  have  been  per- 


BAR 

formed  for  many  years  past,  ex- 
cepting   the    Unhappy  Favourite ; 
or,   Earl  of  Essex;     which   long 
continued  a  stock  tragedy  at  both 
theatres.     Mr.  Jones's  tragedy  on 
the  same  subject,  which  came  out 
in   1/53,  and  since  that  another 
by  Mr.  Brooke   (of  both  which 
see   an   account  in   their    proper 
places),    seem   however   to   have 
banished  that  also  from  the  stage ; 
at  least  for  a  while.  Yet  we  cannot 
help  observing,  to  the  honour  of 
Mr.  Banks's  play,  that  although 
these  two  writers,  and  another  of 
eminence,  viz.  Mr.   Ralph,  have 
all   handled    the    same    story    in 
somewhat  a  different  manner,  they 
have,  all  concurred  in  borrowing 
many  passages  from -his  tragedy; 
and  moreover,  that  whatever  ad- 
vantages their  pieces  may  have  over 
his  in  some  respects,  yet  in  point  of 
pathos,  which  ought  to  be  one  of 
the  great  aims  of  tragedy,  he  still 
stands  superior  to  them  all. 

The  writers  on  dramatic  sub- 
jects have  not  ascertained  either 
the  year  of  the  birth  or  that  of  the 
death  of  this  author.  His  last  re- 
mains however  lie  interred  in  the 
church  of  St.  James's,  Westmin- 
ster. 

Barford,  Richard.  This  gen- 
tleman was,  we  believe,  of  Exeter 
College,  in  Oxford,  and  took  his 
degree  of  M.  A.  Nov.  2.5,  1729. 
We  are  entirely  unacquainted  with 
any  further  particulars  concerning 
him,  except  that  he  wrote 

The  Virgin  Queen.  Tr. 8vo.  1  /2f). 
To  this  tragedy  Mr.  Pope  alludes 
in  his  Epistle  to  Dr.  Arbuthnot, 
ver.  55  : 

Bless  me!  a  packet — Tis  a  stranger  sues, 
A  Virgin  Tragedy,  an  orphan  Muse. 

See  iVatton  on  Pope. 

Barker,  Mr.  A  gentleman  of 
this  name  is  said  by  all  the  writers 
to  have  been  the  author  of  two 


21 

BAR 

■    dramatic  pieces,  whose  titles  are  as 
;     follow : 

1.  Beau  defeated.     Com. 

2.  Fidele  and  Fortunatus. 

Yet  that  these  plays  were  writ- 
ten by  Mr.  Barker  we  cannot  but 
antertain  a  doubt.  The  former  of 
them  hath  the  name  of  Mrs.  Pix 
to  it  as  the  author;  and  the  latter 
is  probably  of  the  reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  a  play  with  that  title 
being  entered  at  Stationers'  Hall 
on  the  12th  of  Nov.  15S4  ;  and 
Coxeter,  in  hi9  MS.  notes,  says, 
that  Mr.  Barker,  who  wrote  Fidele 
and  For/ujiatus,  is  a  different  per- 
son from  him  who  was  author  of 
the  Beau  defeated. 

Barker,  Thomas.  Toa  gen- 
tleman of  this  name,  Langbains 
informs  us  some  of  the  old  cata- 
logues have  attributed  the  being 
author  of  a  play  printed  with  the 
letters  T.  D.  in  the  title-page,  and 
called, 

The  Bloody  Banquet.  Trae:.  4to. 
1620. 

Barksted,  William.  See 
Insatiate  Countess,  in  Vol.  II. 

Barnard,  Edward.  This  gen- 
tleman is  the  author  of  a  volume, 
entitled,  Virtue  the  Source  of  Plea- 
sure, 8\o.  \/5J,  in  which  are  two 
dramatic  pieces,  more  pious  than 
poetical,  entitled, 

1 .  The  Somewhat. 

2.  Edward  IT. 
He  also  was  author  of  a  work, 
called  Experimental  Christianity  of 
eternal  Advantage,  exemplified  in 
the  Life  of  Miss  Lydia  Allen,  of 
London,  who  died  Nov.  1/,  1740. 
Svo.  2d  edit.   1741. 

Barnes,  Barnaey,  was  a 
younger  son  of  Richard  Barnes, 
Bishop  of  Durham,  but  born  in 
Yorkshire  lStX).  He  became  a 
student  of  Brazen  Nose  College,  in 
15S6,  but  left  the  university  with- 
out a  degree.  He  afterwards  ac- 
c  3 


22 
BAR  BAR 

companied  a    military  expedition    had    attained   a    viper  age. 
to  France,  under  the  Earl  of  Essex,    names  of  then)  areas  follow 


The 


in  ]5gi  ;  but  when  he  died  is  un- 
known. Besides  several  poem?, 
be  published  one  play,  railed. 

The  Devil's  Charier.  Trag.  4lo. 
160/. 

Babnes,  Joshua,  a  learned 
divine,  born  in  London  1054,  was 
educated  at  Christ's  Hospital, 
whence  he  removed  to  Emanuel 
College,  Cambridge,  of  which  he 
was  elected  fellow  in  16/5.  The 
year  following  he  published  a 
poem  on  the  History  of  Esther  ; 
and,  in    16SS,    The    Life  of  Ed- 


's. Beornm  Bona.  VI.  i  •  •>.  rS  VJ. 

2.  G  id  Hegio.   V.  Svo. 
1647. 

3.  M:irrr.  Trag.  Svo.  K.  D. 
Phillips  and  Winstanley  have  a!=o 
attributed  some  other  plays  to  him, 
but   on    no  foundation  whatever, 
v  z. 

Dick   [Hv  er.     Com. 

[Morality.] 

Don  Quixote.     Com. 

Destruction  of  Jerusalem.. 

Mar  Vit  and  Science. 

Together  with  masques   and    in- 


ward  III.    In  1 694,  he  printed  his    terludes;  all  which  however  Lang- 


edition  of  Euripides.  In  .1700, 
he  married  a  widow  lady  of  for- 
tune. In  1705,  he  published  his 
Anacreon;  and  the  next  year  his 
Homer.  Dr.  Bentley  used  to  say, 
that  he  understood  as  much  Greek 
as  a  Greek  cooler  :  his  edition  ot 
Anacreon,  however,  ranks  high  in 
the  estimation  of  the  learned. 
Mr.  Barnes  died  in  1/12.  There 
are  in  the  library  of  Emanuel 
College,  the  following  plays  ot  his 
in  MS.  viz. 


baine  denies  10  be  his ;  as  he  also 
does  Phillips's  assertion  that  any  of 
his  pieces  were  ever  represented 
on  the  stage. 

Mr.  Baron  had  a  strict  intimacy 
with  the  celebrated  Mr.  James 
Howell,  the  great  traveller,  in 
whose  collections  of  Liters  there  is 
one  to  tin's  gentleman  (see  Howell's 
Letters,  book  in.  letter  17),  who 
was  at  that  time  at  Paris. — To 
Mr.  Howell  in  particular,  and  to 
all  the  ladies  and  cemlewomen  of 


1.  The  Academie.    Com.  about    England   in  general,  he  has  dedi- 


1675.     N.  P. 

2.  Englehert.     Play.  N.  V. 

3.  Lan  it.1683.  N.P. 

Baron,  Robert.  This  au- 
thor was  born  in  the  year  1630. 
He  received  the  earlier  parts  of 
his  education  at  Cambridge,  after 
which  he  became  a  member  of  the 
honourable  society  of  Gray's  Inn. 
During  his  residence  at  the  univei  - 
sity,  and  indeed  when  he  was  no 
more  than  seventeen  yea 
he  wrote  a  romance,  called  The 
Cyprian  Academy,  in  which  he 
introduced   the  two    first   of    the 


ca'.ed  his  romance. 

Barkey,    Lodowick.      What 
this  gentleman's  rank  in  life  was, 

ewhat  difficult  to  rii ; 
mine  ;     the   writers   on  dramatic 

cts,  viz.  Laogbaine,  Jacob, 
Gikiop,  Whincop.  &c.  styling  him 

Mr.Lodowick  Barry;  whereas 
Anth.  Wood,  in  his  A  then.  Oxou. 

i.  p.  o2cj,  palls  him  Lodowick 
Lord  Barry j  which  title  Co:;eter_, 
iu  his  MS.  has  also  bestowed  on 
him.  This  is  however  positively 
denied  by  Whincop,  p.  Qt.  But 
let  this  be  as  it  may,  all  authors 


dramatic  pieces  mentioned  below,  agree  that  he  was  of  an  ancient 

The  third  of  then  is  a  much  more  and  honourable  family  in  Ireland, 

regular  and  perfect  play,  and  was  that  he  flourished  about  the  middle 

probably  written  when  the  author  of  King  James  the  First's  reign, 


23 


B  E  A 

and  that  he  wrote  one  dramatic 
piece,  entitled, 

Earn  Alley.  C.  4to.  1011.  D.C. 

Bartholomew,  John,  is  au- 
thor of  one  play,  called, 

The  Fall  of  the  French  Monarchy. 
H.  T.  Svo.  1794. 

Bartley,  Sir  William.  We 
find  this  name  assigned  as  author  of 

Cornelia.    P.   1602.  N.  P. 
It     seems,    however,    very    pro- 
bable,  that  it  is  a  corruption  for 
Sir  William  Berkley,  who  wrote 
The  Lost  Lady. 

Baston,  Robert.  Bale  and 
Pits  mention  this  poet  as  author, 
among  other  things,  of  a  volume 
of  tragedies  and  comedies  in  Ens- 
lish  ;  but  what  they  were  has  not 
come  to  our  knowledge.  Bale  de 
Script.  Brit.  Ceniur.  IF. — Pits  de 
lllustr.  Angl.  Script.  Ann.  1310. 

Bate,  Henry.     See  Dudley. 

Bayley,  John,  is  author  of 
one  play,  called, 

The 'Forester.     Dr.    8vo.    1798. 

Baylis,  John.  Of  this  person 
we  know  no  more  than  that  he 
has  published  the  following  trans- 
lations from  the  French  : 

1.  A  House  to  Le  Sold.  F.  12mo. 
1S04. 

2.  Lodoiska.  H.R.  12mo.  1804. 
C.  Mysteries    of    Udolpho.     D. 

12mo.  1804. 

4.  The  Resemllance.  C.  12mo. 
1804. 

5.  Valet  with  two  Masters.  F. 
12  mo.    1804. 

Beaumont,  Francis,  and 
John  Fletcher. 

As  these  two  gentlemen  were, 
while  living,  the  most  inviolable 
friends  and  inseparable  compa- 
nions ;  as  in  their  works  also  they 
were  united,  the  Orestes  and  Py- 
lades  of  the  poetical  world;  it 
would  be  a  kind  of  injury  done  to 
the  manes  of  their  friendship, 
should  we  here,  after  death,  sepa- 


B  E  A 

rate  those  names  which  before  it 
were  found  for  ever  joined.  For 
this  reason  we  shall,  under  this 
single  article,  deliver  what  we  have 
been  able  to  collect  concerning 
both;  yet,  for  the  sake  of  order,  it 
will  be  proper  first  to  take  some 
notice  of  those  particulars  which 
separately  relate  to  each.  First 
then,  as  his  name  stands  at  the 
head  of  this  article,  we  will  begin 
with 

Francis  Beaumont.  This 
gentleman  was  descended  from  a 
very  ancient  family  of  that  name, 
seated  at  Grace  Dieu,  in  Leicester- 
shire. Plis  grandfather,  John 
Beaumont,  had  been  Master  of  the 
Rolls,  and  his  father,  Francis 
Beaumont,  one  of  the  judges  of 
the  Court  of  Common  Pleas.  Nor 
was  his  descent  less  honourable  on 
the  side  of  his  mother,  whose  name 
was  Anne,  the  daughter  of  George 
Pierrepoint,  of  Home  Pierrepoint, 
in  the  county  of  Nottingham,  Esq. 
and  of  the  same  family  from  which 
the  late  Duke  of  Kingston  de- 
rived his  ancestry. 

Our  poet,  however,  appears  to 
have  been  only  a  younger  son, 
Jacob  mentioning  a  brother  of  his 
by  the  title  of  Sir  Henry  Beau- 
mont, though  Cibber  with  more- 
propriety,  in  his  Lives  of  the  Poets, 
vol.  i.  p.  157,  calls  him  'Sir  John 
Beaumont.  He  was  born  in  the 
year  1585,  and  received  his  edu- 
cation at.  Cambridge,  but  in 
what  college  is  a  point  which  we 
have  not  been  able  to  trace.  He 
afterwards  was  entered  a  student 
in  the  Inner  Temple.  It  is  not, 
however,  apparent  that  he  made 
any  great  proficiency  in  the  law, 
that  being  a  study  probably  too 
dry  and  unentertaining  to  be  at- 
tended to  by  a  man  of  his  fertile 
and  sprightly  genius.  And,  in- 
deed, we  should  scarcely  be  suj> 
c4 


24 


B  E  A 

prised  to  find  that  he  had  given  no 
application  to  any  study  but  poe- 
try, nor  attended  on  any  court  but 
that  of  the  Muses;  but  on  the  con- 
trary our  admiration  might  fix  it- 
self in  the  opposite  extreme,  and 
fill  us  with  astonishment  at  the 
greatness  of  his  genius  and  rapi- 
dity of  his  pen,  when  we  look 
back  on  the  voluminousness  i  I 
works,  and  then  inquire  into  the 
time  allowed  him  for  them;  works 
that  might  well  have  taken  up  a 
long  life  to  have  executed.  For 
although,  out  of  fifty-three  plays 
which  are  collected  together  as 
the  labours  of  these  united  authors, 
Mr.  Beaumont  was  concerned  in 
much  the  greater  part  of  them, 
yet  he  did  not  live  to  complete  his 
thirtieth  year,  the  king  or  terrors 
summoning  him  away  in  the  be- 
ginning of  March  1(53  5,  on  the 
Qth  day  of  which  he  was  interred 
in  the  entrance  of  St.  Benedict's 
chapel  in  Westminster  Abbey.  He 
left  behind  him  only  one  daugh- 
ter, Mrs.  Frances  Beaumont,  who 
must  then  have  been  an  infant,  as 
she  died  in  Leicestershire  since  the 
year  17OO.  She  had  been  possess- 
ed of  several  MS.  poems  of  her 
father's  writing  ;  but  the  envious 
Irish  seas,  which  robbed  the  world 
of  that  invaluable  treasure,  the  re- 
gaining part  of  Spenser's  Fairy 
Queen,  deprived  it  also  cf  these 
poems,  which  were  lost  in  her 
voyage  from  Ireland,  in  which 
kingdom  she  had  resided  for  some 
time  in  the  family  of  the  Duke  of 
Ormond.  Let  us  now  proceed  to 
our -second  author, 

John  Fletcher.  This  gentle- 
man was  not  more  meanly  de- 
scended than  his  poetical  colleague; 
his  father,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Fletcher, 
having  been  first  made  Bishop  of 
Bristol  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  and 
afterwards  by  the  same  monarch, 


B  E  A 

in  the  year  1593,  translated  to  the 
rich  and  honourable  see  of  Lon- 
don. Our  poet  was  bom  in  ]5/6, 
and  was,  as  well  as  his  friend, 
\:led  at  Cambridge,  where  he 
made  a  great  proficiency  in  his 
studies,  and  was  accounted  a  very 
good  scholar.  His  natural  viva- 
city of  wit,  for  which  he  was  re- 
markable, «oon  rendered  him  a  de- 
votee to  the  Muses;  and  his  close 
attention  to  their  service,  and  for- 
tunate connexion  with  a  genius 
equal  to  his  own,  soon  raised  him 
to  one  of  the  highest  places  in  the 
temple  of  poetical  fame.  As  he 
was  born  near  ten  years  before  Mr. 
Beaumont,  so  oia  he  also  survive 
him  by  an  equal  number  of  years; 
the  general  calamity  of  a  plague, 
which  happened  in  the  year  1625, 
involving  him  in  its  great  destruc- 
tion, he  being  at  that  time  -I9  years 
of  age.      [See  Massingek.] 

During  the  joint  lives  of  these 
two  great  poets,  it  appears  that 
they  wrote  nothing  separately,  ex- 
cepting one  little  piece  by  each 
which  seemed  of  too  trivial  a  na- 
ture for  either  to  require  assistance 
in,  viz.  The  Faithful  Shepherdess, 
a  Pastoral,  by  Fletcher ;  and  The 
Masque  of  Gray's  I>,n  Gentlemen, 
by  Beaumont.  Yet  what  share  each 
had  in  the  writing  or  designing  of 
the  pieces  thus  composed  by  them 
jointly,  there  is  no  possibility  of 
determining.  It  is  however  gene- 
rally allowed,  that  Fletcher's  pecu- 
liar talent  was  wit;  and  Beaumont's, 
though  much  the  younger  man, 
judgment.  Nay,  so  extraordinary 
was  the  latter  property  in  Mr. 
Beaumont,  that  it  is  recorded  of 
the  great  Ben  Jonson,  who  seems 
moreover  to  have  had  a  sufficient 
degree  of  self-opinion  of  his  own 
abilities,  that  he  constantly, so  long 
as  this  gentleman  lived,  submitted 
his  own  writings  to  his  censure. 


25 


BEA 

and,  as  it  is  thought,  availed  him- 
self ot  bis  judgment  at  least  in  the 
correcting,  if  not  even  in  the  con- 
triving, all  his  plots. 

It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  the 
forming  the  plots  and  contriving 
the  conduct  of  the  fable,  the  writ- 
ing of  more  serious  and  pathetic 
parts,  and  lopping  the  redundant 
branches  of  Fletcher's  wit,  whose 
luxuriance,  we  are  told,  frequently 
stood  in  need  of  castigation,  might 
be  in  general  Beaumont's  portion 
in  thework;  whileFletcber,  whose 
conversation  with  the  beau  monde 
(which  indeed  both  of  them,  from 
their  bin  lis  and  stations  in  life,  had 
been  ever  accustomed  to),  added 
to  the  volatile  and  lively  turn  he 
possessed,  rendered  him  perfectly 
master  of  dialogue  and  polite  lan- 
guage, might  execute  the  designs 
formed  by  the  other,  and  raise  the 
superstructure  of  those  lively  and 
spirited   scenes    of  which    Beau- 
mont had  only  laid  the  foundation  ; 
and  in  this  he  was  so  successful, 
that  though   his  wit  and  raillery 
were  extremely  keen  and  poignant, 
yet  they  were  at  the  same  time  so 
perfectly  genteel,  that  they  used 
rather  to  please  than  disgust  the 
very  persons  on  whom  they  seemed 
to  reflect.     Yet  that  Fletcher  was 
not  entirely  excluded  from  a  share 
in  the  conduct  of  the  drama,  may 
be  gathered  from  a  story  related  by 
Wihstanjey,    viz.    that    our  two 
bards  having  conceited  the  rough 
draught  of  a  tragedy  over  a  bottle 
of   wine  at    the   tavern,  Fletcher 
said,  he  would  undertake  to  kill  the 
King;   which   words  being  over- 
heard by  the  waiter,  who  had  not 
happened  to  have  been  witness  to 
the  context  of  their  conversation, 
he  lodged  an  information  of  trea- 
son against  them :    but,  on  their 
explanation  of  it  only  to  mean  the 
destruction  of  a  theatrical  monarch, 


BEA 

and  their  loyalty  being  unquestion- 
ed, the  affair  ended  in  a  jest. 

On    the  whole,   the  works   of 
these   authors   have    undoubtedly 
very  great  merit,  and  some  of  their 
pieces  deservedly  stand  on  the  list 
of  the   present  ornaments  of  the 
theatre.     The  plots  are  ingenious, 
interesting,    and   well   managed  y 
the  characters   strongly  marked  j 
and  the  dialogue  sprightly  and  na- 
tural ;  yet  there  is  in  the  latter  a 
coarseness  which  is  not  suitable  to 
the  politeness  of  the  present  age, 
and  a  fondness  of  repartee,  which 
frequently  runs  into  obscenity,  anal 
which  we  may  suppose  was  the 
vice  of  that  time,  since  even  the 
delicate  Shakspeare  himself  is  not 
entirely  free  from  it.   But  as  these 
authors  have  more  of  that  kind  of 
wit  than  the  last-mentioned  writer, 
it  is  not  to  be  wondered  if  their 
works  were,  in  the  licentious  reign 
of  Charles    II.   preferred   to   his. 
Now,  however,  to  the  honour  of 
the  present  taste  be  it  spoken,  the 
tables  are  entirely  turned ;    and, 
while  Shakspeare' j  immortal  works 
are   our  constant  and  daily  fare, 
tbose  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
though  delicate  in  their  kind,  are 
only  occasionally  served  up ;  and 
even  than  great  pains  is  ever  taken 
to  clear  them  of  that  furhit,  which 
the  haut-gout  of  their  contempora- 
ries considered  as  their  supremest 
relish;  but  which  the  more  unde- 
praved  taste  of  ours  has  been  just- 
ly taught  to  look  on  as  what  it 
really  is,  no  more  than  a  corrupted 
and  unwholesome  taint. 

The  pieces  they  have  left  behind 
them  are  as  follow  : 

1.  The  Woman  Hater.    C.    4to. 
1607. 

2.  The  Knight  of  the  Burning 
Pestle.     C.     4to.  1&13,- 

3.  Cupid's  Revenge.    Tr.     4to. 
1615. 


2d 


B  E  A 


4.  The  Scornful  Lady.    C.    4  to. 
1616. 

5.  A  King  and  no  King.     T.  C. 
4to.  I019. 

6.  The    Maid's    Tragedy.     4to. 

1619. 

7.  Philaster.    T.  C.    4to.  1620. 

8.  Thierry   and  Theodoret.     T. 
4to.  1621. 

9.  TAe  Faithful  Shepherdess. 
D.P.  4to.  N.D.     (By  Fletcher.) 

10.  The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen. 
T.  C.     4to.  1634. 

11.  The  Elder  Brother.   C.    4tp. 

1637. 

12.  Monsieur  Thomas.  C.  4to. 
163Q. 

13.  Wit  without  Money.  C. 
4to.  1639. 

14.  7V;c  Coronation.  C.  4to. 
J 640.  [Shirley,  however,  has  laid 
claim  to  this  play.] 

15.  Rollo.     T.     4to.   1640. 

16.  Rule  a  Wife  and  have  a 
Wife.     C.     4to.  1640. 

17.  The  Night  Walker.  C.  4to. 
1640. 

The  following  36  plays  were 
first  published  together  in  folio, 
1647;  but  are,  together  wiih  the 
preceding  17,  in  folio,   l6*79- 

IS.   The  Mad  Lover.     T.  C. 

19.  The  Spanish  Curate.     C. 

20.  The  Little  FrendiLawyer.  C. 

21.  The  Custom  of  the  Country. 
Tr.  Com. 

22.  The  Nolle  Gentleman.     C. 

23.  The  Captain.     C. 

24.  Beggars'  Bush.     C. 
15.  The  Coxcomb.     C. 

26.  The  False  One.     T. 

27.  The  Chances.     C. 

28.  The  Loyal  Subject.     T.  C. 

29.  The  Laics  of  Candy.  T.  C. 

30.  The  Lover's  Progress.  T.C. 

31.  The  Island  Princess.    T.C. 

32.  Humorous  Lieutenant.  T.C. 

33.  The  ]\/ice  Valour.     T.  C. 
3'4.  The  Maid  in  the  Mill.     C. 
35.  The  Prophetess.     T. 


B  E  C 

36.  Bonduca.     T. 

37.  The  Sea  Voyage.     C. 

38.  The  Double  Marriage.     T. 

39.  The  Pilgrim.     C. 

40.  The  Knight  of  Malta.  T.C. 

41.  The  Woman's  Prize.     C. 

42.  Love's  Cure.     C. 

43.  Ho?;t?sf  Man's  Fortune.  T.C. 

44.  The  Queen  of  Corinth.  T.C. 

45.  Women  pleased.     T.  C. 

46.  ^/  Wife  for  a  Month.  T.C. 

47.  /^  a£  several  Weapons.  C, 

48.  Valentinian.     T. 

49.  77*e  Fair  .Maia"  of  the  Inn. 
T.C. 

50.  Love's  Pilgrimage.     C. 

51.  Masque  of  the  Inner  Temple 
and  Gray's  Inn,  l6l2.  4to.  N.D. 
(By  Beaumont.) 

52.  Four  Plays  in  One. 

53.  The  Wild  Goose  Chase.  C. 
Fol.  1652,   1679. 

The  same  writers  were  also  au- 
thors, or  assistants  to  the  authors, 
of  the  under-mentioned: 

54.  The  Widow.  By  Jonson, 
Fletcher,  and  Middleton.  4to. 
1652. 

55.  The  Jeweller  of  Amsterdam  ; 
or,  The  Hague.  By  Fletcher, 
Field,  and  Masslnger.     N.  P. 

5L>.  The  Faithful  Friends.  C. 
N.  P. 

57.  A  Right  Woman.  C.  Both 
by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.    N.  P. 

5S.  The  History  ofMador,  King 
of  Britain.    By  Beaumont.    N.  P. 

5C).  The  Devillof  Dowgate.  C. 
by  Fletcher.     1023.     JNLP. 

60.  The  History  of  Cardenio.  P. 
by  Fletcher  and  Sluikspeare.   N.  P. 

61.  The  Wandering  Lovers.  P. 
by  Fletcher.     1623.     N.  P. 

Becket,  Andrew.  This  per- 
son has,  besides  A  Trip  to  Hol- 
land, published  one  dramatic  piece, 
called 

Socrates.  Dr.  Poem.  8vo.  1806. 

Beckingham,  Chari.es.  This 
gentleman  was  the  son  of  a  linen- 


27 
BED  BED 

draper  in  Fleet  Street.  He  was  ing  been  a  very  principal  and  use- 
educated  at  that  great  nursery  of  ful  evidence  in  the  discovery  of 
learning  MerchantTaylors*  School,     the  Popish  plot    in    the  reign   of 


r  the  Rev.  Dr.  Smith,  where 
be  made  a  very  great  pronciency- 
in  ail  his  studies,  and  gave  the 
strongest  testimonials  of  extra- 
ordinary abilities.  In  poetry, 
more  particularly,  he  very  early 
discovered  an  uncommon  genius  ; 


King  Charles  II.  The  particulars 
of  that  important  event  may  be 
seen  by  looking  into  any  of  the 
English  historians  relating  to  that 
period  ;  and  Captain  Bedloe's  life, 
which  contained  little  extraordi- 
nary excepting  what  concerned  the 


two  dramatic  pieces  of  his  writing  said  plot,  having  been  written    by 

being  represented  on  the  stage  be-  an  unknown  hand,  and  published 

fore  he   had    well    completed  his  in  Svo.  1681,  being  the  year  after 

twentieth  year  ;  and  those  not  such  his  death,   we  shall  refer  our  rea- 

as  required  the  least  indulgence  or  ders  to  that  woik,  and  only  proceed 

allowance  on  account  of  his  years,  to   the  mention  of  one   dramatic 

but  such   as    bore   evidence    to   a  piece,  which  he   published  in  his 

boldness  of  sentiment,  an  accuracy  life-time,    although    never    acied. 

of  diction,  an   ingenuity  of  con-  It  is  entitled 


duct,  and  a  maturity  of  judgment, 
which  would  have  done  honour  to 
a  much  more  ripened  age.  The 
titles  of  his  plays,  both  of  which 
were  tragedies,  are, 

1 .  Scipio  Jfrlcanus.  1 2mo.  1718. 

2.  Henry  IF.  of  France.     8\o. 
1/20. 

At  the  representation  of  the  nrst- 
rnentioned  piece,  his  schoolmaster 


The  Excommunicated  Prince.  T. 
Fed.  I679. 

Ant'n.  a  Wood,  in  his  Athena 
Oxon.  vol.  ii.  p.  884,  will  not  al- 
low the  Captain  the  merit  of  this 
play  ;  but  asserts  that  it  was  writ- 
ten partly,  if  not  entirely,  by  one 
Tho.  Walter,  M.  A.  of  Jesus  Col- 
lege, Oxford." 

Mr.  Macpherson  is  supposed  to 


Dr.  Smith,  as  a  peculiar  mark  of    represent    him  very  justly  in  the 


distinction  and  regard  to  the  merit 
of  his  pupil,  gave  all  his  boys  a 
holiday  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
author's  benefit,  in  order  to  afford 
an  opportunity,  to  such  of  them  as 
pleased,  to  pay  their  compliments 
to  their  schoolfellow  on  that  oc- 
casion. 

He  was  born  in  l6p,Q,  and,  be- 
sides these  dramatic  pieces,  wrote 
several  other  poems;  but  his  ge- 
nius was  not  permitted  any  very 
long   period  to  expand  itself  in; 


following  account:  "  He  rose  from 
"  a  footboy,  or  common  rutin er  of 
"  messages,  into  a  livery  servant  of 
"  the  Lord  Bellasis.  To  the  basc- 
"  ness  of  his  birth,  he  added  the 
"  lowest  depravity  of  the  mind. 
"  He  was  by  nature  a  knave,  and 
"  followed  iniquity  from  inclina- 
"  tion,  more  than  from  profit.  Ac- 
"  tive  in  his  person,  and  a  wan- 
"  derer  from  disposition,  he  was  a 
' '  kind  of  post  or  letter-carrier  be- 
'■'  yond  sea;  and,  in  that  servile 


for  he  died  on  the  18th  of  February     "  condition,  he  found  an  opportu- 


1730;  in  the  32d  year  of  his  age. 

Bedloe,Caft. William.  This 
perjured  wretch,  at  the  time  he 
lived,  made  himself  better  known 


"  nity  to  become  acquainted  with 
"  the  names,  and  the  more  obvious 
".  concerns,  of  people  of  note  on 
'•'  the  continent.   He  converted  his 


and  more  considered  on  account  of ,  "knowledge   into    the  means  of 
{lis  actions  than  bis  writings  3  Lav-    "sharping.     He  went  under  false 


B  £  H 

*•'  names ;  he  borrowed  money  by 
"  fraud  ;  he  forged  recommcnda- 
"  tions }  he  personated  men  of  ri- 
"  gure.  Under  the  character  of  an 
"  Englishman  of  rank,  he  traversed 
"  Italy;  he  passed  through  France; 
'*  be  travelled  to  Spain  ;  marking 
*'  his  way  with  frauds,  cheatry, 
"  robber}r,  and  lies.  Habituated 
•'  to  punishments,  and  seasoned 
•*  to  prisons,  he  became  hardened 
"  against  the  animadversions  of  the 
!*  law  j  and  though  he  fed,  half  his 
"  time,  with  common  felons,  out 
•'  of  the  alms-basket,  he  was  al- 
*'  ways  prepared  for  any  wicked- 
**  ness  that  promised  temporary 
<«  profit." 

He  died  at  Bristol,  August  20, 
1680. 

Behk,  Aphaka,  or  Aphra. 
Some  kind  of  dispute  has  arisen  in 
regard  to  this  lady's  Christian  name, 
in  consequence  of  Langbaine's  hav- 
ing attributed  that  of  Astraea  to  her 
as  a  real  name,  which  was  indeed 
no  more  than  a  poetical  one,  by 
which  she  was  known  and  address- 
ed by  her  contemporaries.  She 
was  a  gentlewoman  by  birth,  be- 
ing descended  from  a  very  good 
family,  whose  residence  was  in  the 
city  of  Canterbury.  She  was  born 
some  time  in  Charles  I.'s  reign, 
but  in  what  year  is  uncertain. 
Her  father's  name  was  Johnson, 
who,  through  the  interest  of  the 
Lord  Willoughby,  to  whom  he 
wps  related,  being  appointed  lieu- 
tenant-general of  Surinam,  and  six 
and  thirty  islands,  undertook  a 
voyage  to  the  West  Indies,  taking 
with  him  his  whole  family,  among 
whom  was  our  poetess,  at  that 
time  very  young.  Mr.  Johnson 
died  in  the  voyage  ;  but  his  family 
reaching  Surinam,  settled  there  for 
some  years. 

Here  it  was  that  she  learned  the 
history  of,  and  acquired  a  personal 


28 

BEH 

intimacy  with,  the  American  Prince 
Oroonoko,  and  his  beloved  Imoin- 
da,  whose  adventures  she  has  her- 
self so  pathetically  related  in  her 
celebrated  novel  of  that  name,  and 
which  Mr.  Southern  afterwards 
made  such  an  admirable  use  of  in 
making  it  the  groundwork  of  one 
of  the  best  tragedies  in  the  English 
language.  Her  intimacy  with  this 
prince,  and  the  interest  she  took  in 
his  concerns,  added  to  her  own 
youth  and  beauty,  afforded  an  op- 
portunity to  the  ill-natured  and 
censorious  to  accuse  her  of  a  nearer 
connexion  with  him  than  that  of 
friendship.  Of  this,  however,  a  lady 
of  her  acquaintance,  who  has  pre- 
fixed some  memoirs  of  her  life  to 
an  edition  of  her  novels,  takes  great 
pains,  and  we  think  very  much  to 
the  purpose,  to  acquit  her. 

On  her  return  to  London,  she 
became  the  wife  of  one  Mr.  Behn, 
a  merchant,  residing  in  that  city, 
but  of  Dutch  extraction.  How 
long  he  lived  after  their  marriage, 
is  not  *ery  apparent,  probably  not 
verylonf;  for  her  wit  and  abilities 
having  brought  her  into  high  esti- 
mation at  court,  King  Charles  II. 
fixed  on  her  as  a  proper  person  to 
transact  some  affairs  of  importance 
abroad  during  the  course  of  the 
Dutch  war.  To  this  purpose  she 
went  over  to  Antwerp,  where,  by 
her  intrigues  and  gallantries,'  she 
so  far  crept  into  the  secrets  of 
state,  as  to  answer  the  ends  pro- 
posed by  sending  her  over.  Nay, 
in  the  latter  end  of  1(566,  she,  by 
means  of  the  influence  she  had 
over  one  Vander  Albert,  a  Dutch- 
man of  eminence,  whose  heart  was 
warmly  attached  to  her,  wormed 
out  of  him  the  design  formed  by 
Dtt  Ruyter,  in  conjunction  with 
the  family  of  the  De  Wits,  of  sail- 
ing up  the  Thames,  and  burning 
t!ie  English  ships  in  their  harbours. 


29 


B  E  H 

which  they  afterwards  put  in  exe- 
cution at  Rochester.  This  she 
immediately  communicated  to  the 
English  court ;  but  though  the 
event  proved  her  intelligence  to  be 
well  grounded,  yet  it  was  at  that 
time  only  laughed  at ;  which,  to- 
gether, probably,  with  no  great 
inclination  shown  to  reward  her 
lor  the  pains  she  had  been  at,  de- 
termined her  to  drop  all  further 
thoughts  of  political  affairs,  and, 
during  the  remainder  of  her  stay 
at  Antwerp,  to  give  herself  up 
entirely  to  the  gaiety  and  gallantries 
of  the  place.  Vauder  Albert  con- 
tinued his  addresses,  and,  after 
having  made  some  unsuccessful 
attempts  to  obtain  the  possession 
©f  her  person  on  easier  terms  than 
matrimony,  at  length  consented  to 
make  her  his  wife  :  but  while  he 
was  preparing  at  Amsterdam  for  a 
journey  to  England  with  that  in- 
tent, a  fever  carried  him  off,  and 
left  her  free  from  any  amorous  en- 
gagements. She  was  also  strongly 
solicited  by  a  very  old  man,  of  the 
name  of  Van  Bruin,  at  whose  ex- 
pense she  diverted  herself  for  a 
time,  and  then  rejected  him  with 
that  ridicule  which  his  absurd  ad- 
dresses justly  merited. 

In  her  voyage  back  to  England 
she  was  very  near  being  lost,  the 
vessel  she  was  in  being  driven  on 
the  coast  by  a  storm ;  but,  hap- 
pening to  founder  within  sight  of 
land,  the  passengers  were,  by  the 
timely  assistance  of  boats  from  the 
shore,  all  fortunately  preserved. 

From  this  period  she  devoted  her 
life  entirely  to  pleasure  and  the 
Muses.  Her  works  are  very  nu- 
merous, and  all  of  them  have  a 
lively  and  amorous  turn.  It  is  no 
wonder  then,  that  her  wit  should 
gain  her  the  esteem  of  Mr.Dryden, 
Mr.  Southern,  and  other  men  of 
genius ;  as  her  beauty,  of  which  in 


B  E  H 

her  younger  part  of  life  she  pos- 
sessed a  great  share,  did  the  love  of 
those  of  .gallantry.  Nor  does  she 
appear  to  have  been  any  stranger 
to  the  delicate  sensations  of  that 
passion  ;  as  appears  from  some  of 
her  letters  to  a  gentleman,  with 
whom  she  corresponded  under  the 
name  of  Lycidas,  and  v  ho  seems 
not  to  have  returned  her  flame  with 
equal  ardour,  or  received  it  v  h 
that  rapture  her  charms  might 
well  have  been  expected  to  com- 
mand. 

Her  works,  as  we  have  before 
observed,  were  very  numerous,  con- 
sisting of  plays,  novels,  poems,  let- 
ters, &c.  But  as  our  present  de- 
sign only  authorizes  our  taking 
notice  of  her  dramatic  pieces,  we 
shall  hereto  subjoin  a  list  of  them, 
amounting  to  eighteen  in  number, 
viz. 

1 .  Forced  Marriage.  T.  C.  4to. 
1671. 

2.  The  Amorous  Prince.  C.  4to. 
1671. 

3.  The  Dutch  Lover.  C.  4to, 
1(573. 

4.  Aldelaxar.     T.     4to.  1677. 

5.  The  Town  Fop.  Cora.  4to. 
1677. 

6.  The  Rover.  C.  Parti.  4io. 
1677. 

7.  The  Debauchee;  or,  The  Cre^ 
dulous  Cuckold.     C     4to.  IO77. 

8.  Sir  Patient  Fancy.  C.  4to. 
1678. 

9.  The  Feigned  Courtezans.  C. 
4to.  1679. 

10.  The  Rover.  Com.  Part  II. 
4to.  10'Sl. 

11.  The  City  Heiress.  C.  4to. 
16S2. 

12.  The  False  Count.  C.  4to. 
1682. 

13.  The  Roundheads.  C.  4to, 
1GS2. 

14.  The  Young  King.  Tr.  C 
4to>  1C3S3. 


30 


BEH 
15.  The  Lucky  Chance.  C.    4to. 
1687, 

lu.  The  Emperor  of  the  Moon.  F. 

4to.  Jt>S/. 

17.  The  Widow  Ranter.  T.  C. 
4  to.  1000. 

lb.  The  Younger  Brother.  C. 
4to.  1    ;  16. 

It  will  appear  by  this  catalogue, 
that  the  turn  of"  her  genius  was 
chiefly  to  comedy.  As  to  the  charac- 
ter that  her  plays  should  maintain 
in  the  records  of  dramatic  history, 
it  will  be  difficult  to  determine, 
since  their  faults  and  perfections 
stand  in  strong  opposition  to  each 
other.  In  all,  even  the  most  in- 
different of  her  pieces,  there  are 
strong  marks  of  genius  and  under- 


B  E  H 

audience  in  their  favourite  depra- 
vity; and  the  former,  assisted  by  a 
rapid  flow  of  wit  and  vivacity,  en- 
abled her  so  to  do;  so  that  both 
together  have  given  her  plays  the 
loose  cast  which  it  is  but  too  appa- 
rent they  possess. 

Her  own  private  character  we 
shall  give  to  our  readers  in  the 
words  of  one  of  her  female  com- 
panions, who,  in  the  memoirs 
before  mentioned,  prefixed  to  her 
novels,  spoke  of  her  thus :  "  She 
"  was  (says  this  lady)  of  a  gene- 
"  rous,  humane  disposition,  some- 
"  thing  passionate, very  serviceable 
"  to  her  friends  in  all  that  was  in 
"  her  power,  and  could  sooner 
"  forgive  an  injury  than  do  one. 


standing.     Her   plots    are  full  of     f<  She  had  wit,  humour,  good-na- 


business  and  ingenuity  ;  and  her 
dialogue  sparkles  with  the  dazzling 
lustre  of  genuine  wit,  which  every 
where  glitters  among  it.  But  then 
she  has  been  accused,  and  that  not 
without  great  justice,  of  interlard- 
ing her  comedies  with  the  most 
indecent  scenes,  and  giving  an  in- 
dulgence in  her  wit  to  the  most 
indelicate  expressions.  To  this  ac- 
cus  lion  she  has  herself  made  some 
re,  I ,  in  the  preface  to  The  Lucky 
Chance ;  but  the  retorting  the 
charge  of  prudery  and  preciseness 
on  her  accusers  is  far  from  being 
a  sufficient  exculpation  of  herself. 
The  best,  and  perhaps  the  only 
true  excuse  that  can  be  made  for  it 
is,  that  although  she  might  herself 
have  as  great  an  aversion  as  any 
one  to  loose  scenes  or  too  warm 
descriptions,  yet,  as  she  wrote  for  a 
livelihood,  she  was  obliged  to  com- 
ply with  the  corrupt  taste  of  the 
times.  And,  as  she  was  a  wo- 
man, and  naturally,  moreover,  of 
an  amorous  complexion,  and  wrote 
in  an  age  and  to  a  court  of  gal- 
lantry and  licentiousness,  the  latter 
circumstances,  added  to  her  neces- 
sities, compelled  her  to  indulge  her     to  so  bright  a  genius. 


"  ture,  and  judgment;  she  was 
"  mistress  of  all  the  pleasing  arts 
"  of  conversation  ;  she  was  a  wo- 
"  man  of  sense,  and  consequently 
"  a  lover  of  pleasure.  For  my 
"  part,  I  knew  her  intimately,  and 
"  never  saw  aught  unbecoming  the 
"  just  modesty  of  our  sex ;  though 
"  more  gay  and  free  than  the  folly 
"  of  the  precise  will  allow." 

After  a  life  intermingled  with 
numerous  disappointments,  which, 
as  Mr.  Gildon  justly  observes,  a 
woman  of  her  sense  and  merit 
ought  never  to  have  met  with,  and 
in  the  close  of  a  long  indisposition, 
Mrs.  Behn  departed  from  this 
world  on  the  1 6th  of  April  16SQ, 
and  lies  interred  in  the  cloisters  of 
Westminster  Abbey,  under  a  blue 
marble  stone,  against  the  first  pil- 
lar in  the  east  ambulatory,  with  the 
following  inscription  : 

Mrs.  Aphra  Behn, 
died  April    the  lfjlh, 

iosg. 

Here  lies  a  proof  that  wit  can  never  be 
Defence  enough  against  mortality. 

Revived  by  Tho.Wair.e_,  in  respect 


31 

BEL 

Belchier,  Daw  eridgecouht. 
This  gentleman  was  the  eldest  son 
of  William  Belchier,  of  Gillesbo- 
rough,  in  Northamptonshire,  Esq. 
He  was  first  entered  of  Corpus 
Christi  College,  Cambridge,  on 
March  2,  1597 ;  and  afterwards 
of  Christchurch,  Oxford,  where 
he  took  the  degree  of  bachelor  of 
arts,  Feb.  6,  l6CO;  some  years 
after  which  he  went  into  the 
United  Provinces,  *md  settled  at 
Utrecht  3  where  he  wrote,  or,  as 
Coxeter  terms  it,  translated  into 
English  (from  the  Dutch,  we  sup- 
pose), one  dramatic  piece  called 

Hans  Beer  Pot's  Invisible  Co- 
medy.    4to.  l6l8.  , 

Phillips  and  Winstanley,  how- 
ever, among  the  numerous  mis- 
takes they  are  guilty  cf,  have  at- 
tributed this  piece  to  Thomas 
Nash. 

Mr.  Belchier  died,  in  the  Low 
Countries,  in  1621. 

Bellamy,  Daniel,  Sen.  and 
Jun.  These  gentlemen  were  fa- 
ther and  son.  The  father,  as  we 
are  informed  in  the  title-page  to 
their  works,  was  some  time  of  St. 
John's  College,  Oxford  ;  and  the 
son  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 
They  were  authors  in  conjunction; 
and  in  the  year  1/39  published 
vol.  i.  and  in  1^40  vol.  ii.  (l2mo.) 
of  a  collection  of  Miscellanies  in 
Prose  and  Verse;  in  which,  among 
other  dramas,  are  some  which  had 
before  been  printed  by  the  father. 
The  names  of  the  several  pieces 
are  as  follow : 

J .  Innocence  Betrayed. 

2.  Love  Triumphant. 

3.  Perjured  Devotee. 

4.  Absent  Nymph. 

5.  Rival  Nymphs. 

6.  Rival  Priests. 

7".   Vanquished  Love.     And, 
8.  Three  select  scenes  of  Gua- 
rini's  Pastor  Fido. 


BEL 

In  1/46  appeared, 
g.  The  Languishing  Lover.    M. 
Int.  12mo. 

All  these  little  pieces  (the  4th, 
Sth,  and  9th,  only  excepted)  were 
expressly  written  tobe  performed  by 
the  young  ladies  of  Mrs.  Bellamy's 
boarding-school  at.  Chelsea,  at  the 
stated  periods  of  breaking-up  for 
the  holidays,  for  the  improvement 
of  themselves,  and  the  amusement 
of  their  parents  and  friends.    They 
are  well  adapted  to  the  purpose, 
being  short  and  concise,  the  plots 
simple  and  familiar,  and  the  lan- 
guage, though  not  remarkably  po- 
etical, nor  adorned  with  any  very 
extraordinary  beauty,  yet,  on  the 
whole,     far     from    contemptible. 
1  hey  are   calculated  for  showing 
the  peculiar  talents  of  the  young 
ladies    who    were    to    appear    in 
them ;  and  to  set   forth  the   im- 
provements they  had  acquired   in 
their  education,  especially  in  mu- 
sic, to  which  end  songs  are  pretty 
lavishly    dispersed   through    them 
all.     In  a  word,  the  design  on  the 
whole  is  laudable ;  and  it  were  to 
be  wished  that  an  example  of  this 
sort  were  to  be  followed  in  more 
of  the  seminaries  of  education  both 
male  and  female;  as  these  kinds  of 
public  exhibitions  constantly  ex- 
cite a  degree  of  emulation  which 
awakens  talents  that  might  other- 
wise have  lain  entirely  buried  in 
obscurity,  and  rouse  to  a  greater 
degree  of  exertion    those   which 
have  already  been  discovered. 

Bellamy,  Thomas,  born  in 
1745,  at  Kingston-upon-Thames, 
in  Surrey.  His  father  was  of  the 
profession  of  the  law,  and,  in 
1743,  married  Miss  Anne  Lomax, 

daughter  of Lomax, Esq.  who 

had  represented  the  borough  of  St. 
Albans  in  Parliament :  by  his  wife 
he  had  a  numerous  issue ;  his  son 
Thomas  lived  to  be  the  only  sur- 


52 


BEL 
viving  branch  of  the  family.  It 
does  not  appear  that  his  father 
died  in  any  flourishing  circum- 
stances. He  acted  as  steward  to 
Sir  Charles  Booth,  who  had  a  great 
regard  for  him  and  his  family,  and 
at  his  death  left  Mrs.  Bellamy  a 
very  considerable  legacy:  she  sur- 
vived her  husVand  many  years. 
The  late  Rev.  Daniel  Bellamy, 
who  had  the  living  of  Kew,  in 
Surrey,  and  who  was  particularly 
distinguished  by  their  present  Ma- 
jesties, was  uncle  to  our  author. 
It  docs  not  appear  that  Mr.  Bellamy 
was  ever  designed  for  any  of  the 
learned  professions ;  for  he  re- 
ceived only  those  common  rudi- 
ments of  education  which  are  re- 
quisite for  the  purposes  of  inland 
commerce;  which  having  attained, 
he  was  put  an  apprentice  to  Mrs. 
Allen,  a  hosier,  in  Newgate  Street. 
With  this  business  he  was  so  well 
satisfied,  that,  at  the  expiration  of 
his  apprenticeship,  he  began  to  trade 
for  himself  on  a  large  scale,  and 
with  great  success.  He  spent  up- 
wards of  twenty  years  of  his  life  as 
a  respectable  tradesman  in  the  city 
of  London  ;  and  as  such  he  most 
probably  would  have  passed  the 
remainder  of  his  life,  if,  happily, 
he  had  married,  and  known  the 
comforts  of  domestic  felicity. 
Some  time  after  he  commenced 
business,  he  entertained  an  affec- 
tion for  a  young  lady,  whom  it 
was  his  wish  and  intention  to 
marry.  Whatever  were  their 
engagements,  however,  the  lady 
thought  proper  to  decline  be- 
coming the  wife  of  an  honest  and 
prosperous  tradesman.  The  un- 
happy termination  of  the  first  pas- 
sion he  ever  felt,  seems  to  have 
had  the  natural  effect  of  giving 
him  some  disgust  against  matri- 
mony, or  at  least  forming  any  new 
attachment  j  since  he  had  been  so 


BEL 
cruelly  deceived,  and  all  his  pro- 
spects of  connubial  happiness  sa- 
crificed at  the  shrine  of  vanity  and 
folly. 

He  appears  to  have  had  an  early 
taste  for  the  sublime  compositions 
of  the  best  English  poets,  from 
which  he  seems  to  have  imbibed  a 
genuine  love  of  nature,  and  to  have 
contracted  the  habit  of  indulging 
himself  in  those  rural  rambles  and 
excursions  which  he  was  constant- 
ly making,  and  from  which  he 
derived  the  greatest  pleasure  :  this 
taste  almost  necessarily  made  him 
a  poet;  and  he  began,  even  during 
his  apprenticeship,  to  wander  at 
the  foot  of  Parnassus.  His  first 
essays,  like  those  of  all  young 
poets,  were  of  the  pastoral  kind, 
which  he  rejected,  in  proportion 
as  his  judgment  ripened,  and  con- 
fined himself  principally  to  moral 
subjects.  In  his  Miscellanies  he 
has  preserved  some  pieces,  written 
so  long  ago  as  1/05  ;  which  evince 
that  he  had  a  pure  mind,  and 
knew  how  to  express  his  senti- 
ments with  considerable  force  and 
harmony,  particularly  Aldallah  to 
the  Usurper  of  Ids  Father  s  Throne, 
and  Ellen  to  Edwin,  vol.  ii.  S9. 

A  mind,  susceptible  of  the  plea- 
sures of  poetry,  and  indulging  m 
propensities  of  innate  genius,  will 
not  long  relish  the  common  busi- 
ness of  common  life  ;  and  it  is  but 
too  true,  that  genius  is  frequently 
the  artificer  of  private  calamity, 
as  well  as  of  public  fame.  Mr. 
Bellamy's  predilection  for  polite- 
literature  increased  with  his  years; 
and,  as  the  concerns  of  trade  are 
always  found  incompatible  with  a 
devotion  to  the  Muses,  the  counter 
gradually  became  rejected,  and  the 
shop  finally  renounced,  after  car- 
rying on  business  for  about  twenty 
years.  Our  author  was  the  pro- 
jector of    The  Monthly   Mirror, 


33 

BEL  BEN 

the  General  Magazine  and  Impar-  ception  and  an  invariable  affection 

tiul  Review,  the  first  number  of  tor  the  best  graces  of  the  heart : 

which  was  published  on  the  first  he  had  no  talent  for  satire,  nor 

of  June  1/S/;  of  The  Picturesque  did  he  relish  it  in  others ;   though 

Magazine,  and  Literary  Museum ;  he  knew  how  to  value  the  spark- 

and  author  of  Sadaski,  or  the  Wan-  ling  ebullitions  of  resentful  wit, 

dering  Penitent,  in  two  small  vo-  and    the     angry    coruscations   of 

lumes,  which  if  not  managed  with  offended  genius.     He  was  author 

the  delicate  skill  ot'  Hawkesworth,  of  the  following  dramatic  piece  : 
yet  displays  an  exuberant  fancy,  and         The  Friends ;  or,  The  Benevolent 

inculcates  important   lessons   and  Planters.  M.I.  Acted  at  the  Hay- 


sound  morality.  For  the  juvenile 
mind,  he  also  wrote  a  small  book, 
entitled,  Lessons  from  Life;  or, 
Home  Scenes.  Upon  the  death  of 
his  mother,  he  became  entitled  to 


market ;  but  afterwards  printed 
(under  the  latter  title  only),  8vo. 
1/39. 

Bkllers,     Fettiplace.      Of 
this  gentleman  we  can  give  no  ac- 


a  considerable  sum  of  money,  and    count,  except  that  he  was  the  au- 


retired  to  private  lodgings,  intend- 
ing to  augment  his  income  by 
writing  works  of  fancy  and  bio- 
graphy. He  was  now,  for  the  first 
time  since  he  commenced  author, 
in  comfortable  circumstances  : 
but  from  this  prospect  of  happiness 
he  was  summoned  by  death,  after 
an  illness  of  lour  days,  Friday, 
August  29,  1800.  He  was  a 
man,  who,  in  all  the  varying  cir- 
cumstances of  his  existence,  had 


thor  of  A  Delineation  of  universal 
Law,  4to. ;  The  Ends  of  Society, 
4to.   1759;  and  one  play,  called, 

Injured  Innocence.  T.  8vo.  17*2. 

Belon,  Peter.  Of  this  author 
no  account  is  transmitted  to  us. 
He  was  living  in  169O,  when 
Langbaine  published,  and  wrote 
one  play,  called, 

The  Mock  Duellist;  or,  The 
Ficnch  Valet.    Com.  4to.   1675. 

Ben-net,  Philip,    was  fellow 


the  merit  of  acting  with   probity    of  Magdalen  College,  Cambridge, 


and  propriety ;  his  manners  were 
engaging  j  his  conversation  cheer- 
ful }  his  countenance  was  expres- 
sive of  the  keen  sensibility  of  his 
mind  ;  his  deportment  was  manly, 
and  his  address  conciliating;  he 
was  ardent  in  his  pursuits,  and 
warm  in  his  attachments ;  his  ur- 
banity procured  him  many  ac- 
quaintance, and  his  good  qualities 
secured  him  many  friends  j  he 
delighted  in  social  intercourse, 
and  his  love  of  conviviality  was 
never  degraded  by  intemperance; 
he  loved  whatever  could  captivate 
a  good  mind,  and  an  elegant  taste 
had  always  a  charm  for  him.  This 
will  be  clearly  seen  from  the 
tenour  of  all  his  compositions, 
which  evince  an  acute  moral  per- 
vol,  t. 


where  he  took  the  degrees  of 
B.  A.  1736,  and  M.  A.  1740.  He 
afterwards  took  orders,  and  died 
about  1752.  He  was  author  of  a 
poem,  called  The  Beau  Philoso- 
pher, Svo.  1736,  and 

The  Beau's  Adventures.  F.  8\'o. 
1733. 

Benson, ,   an  industrious 

and  meritorious  actor,  and  a  dra- 
matic writer  in  a  small  way,  wh<* 
was  several  years  attached  to 
Drury  LaneTheatre,  and  married  a 
sister  of  Mrs.  Stephen  Kemble,  by 
whom  he  had  four  children.  In 
the  theatre  he  was  an  extremely 
useful  man,  being  a  ready  substi- 
tute in  case  of  sudden  indisposition, 
willing  to  undertake  any  character 
in    comedy,    tragedy,    or.    farce- 


34 


BEN 


Under  the  affliction  of  a  brain  fe- 
ver, he  threw  himself,  about  three 
in  the  morning  of  May  20,  \79^> 
stark  naked,  from  a  garret  window 
of  a  house,  where  he  lodged,  in 
Bridges  Street,  Covent  Garden ; 
and  his  head  pitching  on  the  kirb- 
stone,  his  brains  were  dashed  into 
the  high  road.  By  his  death,  an 
aged  father  and  mother  were  de- 
prived of  support.  The  proprietors 
of  the  theatre  generously  appro- 
priated a  night's  performance  for 
the  benefit  of  his  afflicted  family. 
Mr.  Benson  was  author  of, 

1.  Britain's  Glory.  M.  E.  8vo. 

1/94. 

2.  Love  and  Money .  M.  F.  8vo. 

X799- 

Bentley,  Richard.  This  gen- 
tleman was  the  son  of  the  late 
well-known  Dr.  Bentley,  the  great 
Critic.  He  possessed  considerable 
literary  abilities ;  yet  the  turn  of 
his  genius  did  not  seem  greatly 
adapted  to  dramatic  writings,  by 
the  specimen  he  gave  of  them  in 
a  piece  which  made  its  appearance 
at  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  in  the 
summer  of  l/6l.   It  was  entitled, 

1.  The  Wishes.   Com.  N.  P. 

It  was  attempted  to  be  written 
after  the  manner  of  the  Italian  co- 
medy ;  but  though  the  author  had 
shown  great  knowledge  of  the 
■world,  an  accuracy  of  judgment, 
and  in  some  passages  of  it  a  strong 
poignancy  of  satire,  yet  on  the 
whole  it  was  deficient  in  that  no- 
velty of  plot,  variety  of  incident, 
and  vivacity  of  wit,  which  are 
essential  to  the  very  existence  of 
comedy.  In  short,  the  author  had 
written  more  like  a  man  of  learn- 
ing than  genius,  more  to  the  clo- 
set than  the  stage. 

2.  Phifodamvs.  T.  4to.  1 767.— 
$}oth  these  pieces  were  altered  for 
the  stage,  and  acted  at  Covent  Gar- 
den, 1782,  but  without  success. 


B  E  R 

Mr.  Bentley  died  Oct.  23,    17S2. 

A  posthumous  piece  of  his  was 

performed   at   Covent   Garden    a 

few  years  afterwards  j    but  with 

little  success,  viz. 

3.  The  Prophet.     C.  O.    17S8. 

N.  P. 

Bentley,  John,  is  author  of 
The  Royal  Penitent.  Sac.  Dram. 

12mo.   1803. 

Berard,  Peter.  We  find  this 

name  prefixed  to 

The  Uncles  Will.  F.  translated. 

Svo.  1808. 

Berkeley,  George  Monck. 

This  gentleman,  who  was  born 
Feb.    8,   17ti3,    at  Bray,    in    the 

county  of  Berks,  was  the  son  of 
the  Rev.  George  Berkeley,  L.L.D. 
prebendary  of  Canterbury,  &c. 
and  grandson  of  George  Berkeley, 
Bishop  of  Cloyne.  At  twelve  years 
of  age  he  was  sent  to  Eton  school, 
and  soon  after  went  into  the  Long 
Chamber,  where  he  frequently 
felt  the  castigating  rod  of  the 
master,  Dr.  Barnard,  who  was  a 
rigid  disciplinarian ;  not  because 
he  was  deficient  in  abilities,  but 
because  he  loved  to  associate  with 
those  who  thought  it  meritorious 
to  transgress  the  commands  of  their 
superior.  When  sixteen  years  old, 
his  father  took  him  away,  and  be- 
came his  tutor  himself  for  two 
years ;  after  which  he  was  sent  to 
the  university  of  St.  Andrew,  in 
Scotland ;  where  he  continued 
three  years  and  a  half,  At  nine- 
teen years  of  age,  he  was  elected 
a  member  of  the  Antiquarian  So- 
ciety of  Edinburgh.  He  after- 
ward became  a  gentleman-com- 
moner of  Magdalen  Hall,  Oxford, 
and  took  the  degree  of  LL.  B. 
On  leaving  the  university,  he  was 
admitted  a  student  of  the  Inner 
Temple  ;  and,  from  his  close  ap- 
plication to  the  study  of  the  law, 
would  probably,    had    he  lived, 


35 


B  E  R 
have  become  one  of  the  greatest 
ornaments  of  that  profession.  He 
was  a  man  of  a  very  singular 
character  ;  but  possessed  many 
amiable  qualities.  His  poems, 
which  prove  him  to  have  had  a 
strong  genius  and  a  brilliant  ima- 
gination, were  published  after  his 
death  by  his  mother,  in  -Ho.  pre- 
ceded by  a  tedious  preface,  of 
more  than  five  hundred  pages,  in 
which  she  details  every  trifling 
circumstance,  relating  to  him  and 
her  family,  that  shecould  recollect; 
and  which  very  few  will  have  pa- 
tience enough  to  peruse.  He  W3S 
the  author  of, 

1.  Nina.  Com/ Svo.  N.  D. 
[1787-] 

2.  Love  and  Nature,  a  musical 
piece  in  one  act.  Performed  at  the 
Dublin  Theatre,  in  March  1789. 
4to.  1797. 

He  died  Jan.  26,  1793,  aged 
29,  after  a  short  illness. 

Berkley,  Sir  William,  was 
bora  in  or  near  London,  and 
younger  brother  of  John,  Lord 
Berkley  of  Stretton.  He  was 
elected  probationer  fellow  of  Mer- 
ton  College,  Oxford,  in  1625, 
and  four  years  afterwards  was  ad- 
mitted Master  of  Arts.  In  1630, 
he  set  out  on  his  travels.  After 
his  return,  he  became  gentleman 
of  the  privy  chamber  to  Charles 
the  First;  and,  in  1646,  was  sent 
to  Virginia  about  public  concerns, 
Jn''l660,  on  the  death  of  Colonel 
Matthews  (in  consideration  of  the 
service  he  had  done  there,  in  de- 
fending the  people  from  being 
killed  by  the  natives,  and  destroy- 
ing great  numbers  of  the  Indians 
without  losing  three  of  his  own 
men),  he  was  made  governor  of 
that  place,  and  continued  in  the 
office  until  the  year  1676.  He 
died  soon  after  his  return  to  Eng- 
land, and  was  buried  at  Twicken- 


B  E  R 


ham,  July  13,  1677.     He  wrote 
one  play,  called, 

The  Lost  Lady.  Tragi-Com. 
Fol.  163S. 

And    may  not  improbably   have 
been  the  author  of 

Cornelia.  Play,  1662.  N.  P. 
Ascribed  to  a  Sir  William  Bartley. 

Bernard,  Richard.  As  to 
the  particulars  of  this  gentleman's 
life,  none  have  been  handed  down 
to  us,  further  than  that  he  flourish- 
ed in  the  reign  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, and  that  he  lived  at  Epworth, 
in  Lincolnshire.  In  his  literary 
capacity  only  therefore  we  can 
speak  of  him,  in  which  light  we 
are  to  consider  him  as  the  first 
person  who  gave  this  kingdom  an 
entire  translation  of  Terence's  Co- 
medies. To  the  learned  it  would 
be  needless  to  repeat  their  names  ; 
but  for  the  sake  of  our  fair  readers, 
and  others  who  may  not  be  so  well 
acquainted  with  the  Latin  classics, 
it  may  not  be  improper  to  inform 
them  that  they  were  six  in  num- 
ber, and  their  titles  as  follows  : 

1.  Jdelphi. 

2.  Andria. 

3.  Eunuchus. 

4.  Heautontimvrumenos. 

5 .  Hecyra. 

6.  Phonnio.  4to.  1598;  I607 ; 
4th  edit. (with  manyemendations), 
4to.  1614 ;    1629;    1641. 

Mr.  Bernard  has  not,  however, 
contented  himself  with  giving  a 
bare  translation  of  these  six  plays,, 
but  has  also  selected  separately  and 
distinctly,  in  each  scene,  all  the 
most  remarkable  forms  of  speech, 
theses  and  moral  sentences,  after 
the  same  manner  as  had  been  done 
before  him  in  an  old  French  trans- 
lation of  the  same  author,  printed 
at  Paris  in  1574.  These  little  ex- 
tracts are  extremely  useful  and 
entertaining,  and  may  not  only  be 
rendered  serviceable  to  boys  at 
d  2 


36 


BET 


school  in  the  more  immediate  un- 
derstanding of  the  author,  but  are 
also  of  great  assistance  to  those 
who  read  him  with  a  more  classical 
view,  in  the  pointing  out,  and  fix- 
ing on  the  memory,  some  of  the 
most  beautiful  passages,  or  such  as, 
from  the  importance  of  the  senti- 
ment, or  the  peculiar  arrangement 
of  the  phraseology,  may  be  the 
most  desirable  to  remember. 

Berners,  Lord.  See  Bour- 
chier,  John. 

Betterton,  Thomas.  Though 
in  pursuance  of  the  design  of  this 
work  we  can  insert  no  names  but 
those  of  dramatic  writers,  yet  the 
gentleman  who  no*v  comes  under 
our  consideration  requires  our 
speaking  of  him  not  in  that  light 
only,  but  also  as  an  actor,  and  that 
perhaps  as  the  most  capital  one 
that  this  or  any  other  country  has 
ever  produced.  He  was  born  in 
Tothill  Street,  Westminster,  in  the 
year  1635,  his  father  being  at  that 
time  under-cook  to  K.  Charles  I. 
He  received  the  first  rudiments  of 
a  genteel  education,  and  showed 
such  a  propensity  to  literature,  that 
it  was  for  some  time  the  intention 
of  his  family  to  have  brought  him 
up  to  one  of  the  liberal  professions. 
But  this  design  the  confusion  and 
violence  of  the  ensuing  times  di- 
verted them  from,  or  probably  put 
it  out  of  their  power  to  accom- 
plish. His  fondness  for  reading, 
however,  induced  him  to  request 
of  his  parents  that  they  would  bind 
him  apprentice  to  a  bookseller ; 
which  was  readily  complied  with, 
fixing  on  one  Mr.  Rhodes,  near 
Charing  Cross,  for  his  master. 

This  gentleman,  who  had  been 
wardrobe-keeper  to  the  theatre  in 
Black  Friars  before  the  troubles, 
obtained  a  license,  in  1659,  from 
the  powers  then  in  being,  to  set 
up  a  company  of  players,  in  the 


BET 

Cock-pit,  in  Drury  Lane,  in  which 
company  Mr.  Betterton  entered 
himself;  and  though  not  much 
above  twenty  years  of  age,  im- 
mediately gave  proof  of  the  most 
capital  genius  and  merit,  and 
acquired  the  highest  applause  in 
The  Loyal  Subject,  The  IVild  Goose 
Chace,  The  Spanish  Curate,  and 
several  other  plays  of  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher,  which  were  theu 
the  pieces  most  in  vogue. 

Presently  after  the  Restoration, 
two  distinct  theatres  were  esta- 
blished by  royal  authority,  the  one 
in  Drury  Lane,  in  consequence  of 
a  patent  granted  to  Henry  Killi- 
grew,  Esq. ;  which  was  called  the 
King's  company :  the  other  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  who  styled 
themselves  the  Duke  of  York's 
servants,  the  patentee  of  which 
was  the  ingenious  Sir  William 
Davenant ;  which  last-mentioned 
gentleman  engaged  Mr.  Betterton, 
and  all  who  had  acted  under  Mr. 
Rhodes,  into  his  company,  which 
opened  in  1662,  with  anew  play 
of  Sir  William's,  in  two  parts, 
called  The  Siege  of  Rhodes. 

In  this  piece  as  well  as  in  the 
subsequent  characters  which  Mr. 
Betterton  performed,  he  increased 
his  reputation  and  esteem  with  the 
public,  and  indeed  became  so  much 
in  favour  with  King  Charles  II. 
that  one  of  his  biographers  asserts 
(see  Cibber's  Lives  of  the  Poets, 
vol.  iii.  p.  157)  that  by  his  Ma- 
jesty's especial  command  he  went 
over  to  Paris,  to  take  a  view  of 
the  French  stage,  that  he  might 
the  better  judge  what  would  con- 
tribute to  the  improvement  of  our 
own  ;  and  even  goes  so  far  as  to 
say,  that  he  was  the  first  who  in- 
troduced moving  scenes  on  the 
English  stage;  the  honour  of  which; 
however,  the  other  writers  have 
given  to,  Sir  William  himself. 


37 


BET 


BET 


fn  the  year  1670,  he  mar- 
ried one  Mrs.  Saunderson,  a  per- 
former on  the  same  stage,  who, 
both  as  an  actress  and  a  woman, 
was  every  thing  that  human  per- 
fection was  capable  of  arriving  at, 
and  with  whom  he,  through  the 
whole  course  of  his  remaining  life, 
possessed  every  degree  of  happi- 
ness that  a  perfect  union  of  hearts 
can  bestow. 

When  the  Duke's  company  re- 
moved to  Dorset  Gardens,  he 
continued  with  them;  and  on  the 
coalition  of  the  two  companies,  in 
1634,  he  still  remained  among 
them;  Mrs.Betterton  maintaining 
the  same  foremost  figure  among  the 
women,  that  her  husband  support- 
ed among  the  male  performers. 
And  so  great  was  the  estimation 
they  were  both  held  in,  that  in  the 
year  1(5/5,  when  a  pastoral,  called 
Calisto;  or,  The  Chaste  Nymph; 
written  by  Mr.  Crown,  at  the  de- 
sire of  Queen  Catherine,  consort  to 
Charles  II.  was  to  be  performed  at 
court,  by  persons  of  the  greatest 
distinction,  our  English  Roscius 
was  employed  to  instruct  the  gen- 
tlemen, and  Mrs.  Betterton  ho- 
noured with  the  tutorage  of  the 
ladies;  among  whom  were  the  two 
princesses  Mary  and  Anne,  daugh- 
ters of  the  Duke  of  York,  both  of 
whom  afterwards  succeeded  to  the 
crown  of  these  realms.  In  grate- 
ful remembrance  of  which,  the  lat- 
ter of  them,  when  Queen,  settled 
a  pension  of  100/.  per  annum  on 
her  old  instructress. 

In  \6g5,  Mr.  Betterton,  having 
sounded  the  inclinations  of  a  select 
number  of  the  actors,  whom  he 
found  ready  to  join  with  him,  ob- 
tained, through  the  influence  of 
the  Earl  of  Dorset,  the  royal  li- 
cense for  acting  in  a  separate 
theatre;  and  was  very  soon  en- 
abled, by  the  voluntary  subscrip- 


tions of  many  persons  of  quality, 
to  erect  a  new  playhouse,  within 
the  walls  of  the  Tennis  Court,  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields. 

To  this  step  Mr.  Betterton  was 
probably  induced  by  two  distinct 
motives.  The  first  was,  the  ill 
treatment  he  received  from  the 
managers,  who,  exerting  a  despo- 
tic authority  over  their  performers, 
which  he  thought  it  his  duty  to 
remonstrate  against,  began  to  grow 
jealous  of  his  power ;  and  there- 
fore, with  a  hope  of  abating  his 
influence,  gave  away  some  of  his 
capital  parts  to  young  and  insuf- 
ficient performers.  This  conduct, 
however,  had  the  direct  contrary 
effect  to  that  which  they  expected 
from  it,  by  attaching  to  Mr.  Bet- 
terton all  the  best  players  (who  be- 
came apprehensive  of  meeting  with 
the  same  treatment  themselves), 
and  at  the  same  time  exasperating 
the  town,  which  would  not  submit 
to  be  dictated  to  in  its  diversions,  or 
have  its  most  rational  amusements 
damped  by  bungling  and  imper- 
fect performances,  when  it  was 
apparently  in  the  power  of  the 
managers  to  give  them  in  the 
greatest  height  of  perfection. 

The  other  motive  probably  was 
a  pecuniary  one,  with  a  view  to 
repair,  by  the  more  enlarged  pro- 
fits of  a  manager,  the  loss  of  his 
whole  fortune  (upwards  of  two 
thousand  pounds),  which  he  had 
suffered  in  the  year  1692,  by  ad- 
venturing it  in  a  commercial 
scheme  to  the  East  Indies. 

Be  this  however  as  it  will,  the 
new  theatre  opened  in  \6g5,  with 
Mr.Congreve's  Love  for  Love,  the 
success  of  which  was  amazingly 
great.  Yet  in  a  few  years  it  ap- 
peared that  the  profits  arising  from 
this  theatre  were  very  insignifi- 
cant ;  and  Mr.  Betterton  growing 
now  into  the  infirmities  of  age,, 
v  3 


38 


BET 


BET 


and  labouring  under  violent  at- 
tacks of  the  gout,  he  gladly  quitted 
at  once  the  fatigues  of  manage- 
ment and  the  hurry  of  the  stage. 
The  public,  however,  who  re- 
tained a  grateful  sense  of  the  plea- 
sure they  had  frequently  received 
from  this  theatrical  veteran,  and 
sensible  of  the  narrowness  of  his 
circumstances,  resolved  to  continue 
the  marks  of  their  esteem  to  him, 
by  giving  him  a  benefit.  On  the 
7th  of  April  1/09,  the  comedy  of 
Love  for  Love  was  performed  for 
that  purpose,  in  which  this  gen- 
tleman himself,  though  then  up- 
wards of  seventy  years  of  age, 
acted  the  youthful  part  of  Valen- 
tine} as,  in  the  September  follow- 
ing, he  did  that  of  Hamlet,  of  his 
performance  of  which  the  author 
of  The  Tatler  has  taken  parti- 
cular notice.  On  the  former  oc- 
casion, those  very  eminent  per- 
formers Mrs.  Barry  and  Mrs. 
BracegirdJe,  who  had  quitted  the 
stage  some  years  before,  .in  grati- 
tude to  one  to  whom  they  had  bad 
so  many  obligations,  acted  the 
parts  of  Angelica  and  Mrs.  Frail ; 
and  Mr.  Rowe  wrote  an  epilogue 
for  that  night,  which  was  spoken 
by  Mrs.  Barry,  who,  with  Mrs. 
Bracegirdle,  supported  between 
tfcem  this  once  powerful  prop  of 
the  English  stage. 

The  profits  of  this  night  are 
said  to  have  amounted  to  upwards 
of  5001.  the  prices  having  been 
raised  to  the  same  that  the  operas 
are  at  present,  a;  d  wher  the  cur- 
tain drew  up  simost  as  large  an 
audience  appearing  behind  as  be- 
fore it. 

The  next  winter,  Mr.  Betterton 
was  prevailed  on  by  Mr.  Owen 
Mac  Swiny,  then  manager  of  the 
Opera  House,  in  the  Hay  market  (at 
which  plays  were  acted  four  times 
a  week),  to  continue  performing, 
4 


though  but  seldom.  In  conse- 
quence of  which,  in  the  ensuing 
spring,  viz.  on  the  25th  of  April 
1/10,  another  play  was  given  out 
for  this  gentleman's  benefit,  viz. 
The  Maid's  Tragedy,  of  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher,  in  which  he  himself 
performed  his  celebrated  part  of 
Melantius.  This,  however,  was  the 
last  time  he  was  to  appear  on  the 
stage.  For  having  been  suddenly 
seized  with  the  gout,  and  being 
impatient  at  the  thoughts  of  dis- 
appointing his  friends,  he  made 
use  of  outward  applications  to 
reduce  the  swellings  of  his  feet, 
which  enabled  him  to  walk  on  the 
stage,  though  obliged  to  have  his 
foot  in  a  slipper.  But  although  he 
acted  that  day  with  unusual  spirit 
and  briskness,  and  met  with  uni- 
versal applause,  yet  he  paid  very 
dear  for  this  tribute  he  had  ren- 
dered to  the  public ;  for  the  fo- 
mentations he  bad  made  use  of,  oc- 
casioning- a  revulsion  of  the  gouty 
humour  to  the  nobler  parts,  threw 
the  distemper  up  into  his  head, 
and  terminated  his  life  on  the 
28th  of  that  month.  On  the  2d 
of  May,  his  body  was  interred 
with  much  ceremony,  in  the  cloy- 
sters  of  Westminster,  and  great  ho- 
nour paid  to  his  memory,  by  his 
friend  the  Tatler,  who  has  related 
in  a  very  pathetic,  and  at  the  same 
time  the  most  dignified  manner, 
the  process  of  the  ceremonial. 

The  dramatic  pieces  he  left  be-; 
hind  him  are  as  follow  : 

1.  The  lit  nan  Virgin;  or,  Un- 
just Judge.    T.  4to.    IO79. 

2.  The  Revenge}  or,  A  Match 
in  Newgate.     C.  -1  to.  16SO. 

3.  The  Prophetess  ;  or,  The 
History  of Diaclesian  Altered.  O. 
with  a  Masque.  4to.  10'po. 

4.  Kivg  Hi  nry  the  Fourth,  with 
the  Humours  of  Sir  John  Falstaj}'. 
T.  C.  4to.  1700. 


39 


BET 

5.  The  Amorous    Widow  ;    or, 
The  Wanton  Wife.    C.  4to.   1706. 

6.  Sequel  of  Henry  the  Fourth. 
Svo.  N.  D.   [1/19.] 

/.  The  Bondman;  or,  Love  and 
Liberty.  T.  C.  8vo.  J 7 10. 

8.  The  Woman  made  a  Justice. 
Com.    N.  P. 

Of  these  we  have  not  much  more 
to  say,  than  that  those  which  .ire 
properly  his  own  are  not  devoid  of 
merit,  and  those  which  he  has  only 
altered  have  received  an  advan- 
tage from  his  amendment.  In 
both,  however,  he  has  preserved 
one  degree  of  perfection,  which  is 
of  great  consequence  to  the  suc- 
cess of  any  dramatic  piece,  viz.  an 
exact  disposition  of  the  scenes,  and 
the  preservation  of  a  just  length, 
absolute  propriety,  and  natural 
connexions. 

As  an  actor,  he  was  certainly 
one  of  the  greatest  of  either  his 
own  or  any  other  age;  but  to  enter 
into  particular  details  in  that  re- 
spect would  only  take  up  the  time 
of  our  readers  unnecessarily,  and 
fill  up  a  greater  portion  of  room 
in  this  work  than  we  have  a  right 
to  allot  to  any  onearticle.  We  shall 
therefore  refer  those  who  are  de- 
sirous of  having  him  painted  out 
in  the  most  lively  colours  to  their 
imagination,  to  the  description 
given  of  him  by  his  contemporary 
Mr.  Colley  Cibber,  in  the  Apology 
for  his  own  Life.  And  as  a  man, 
it  is  scarcely  possible  to  say  more, 
and  it  would  be  injustice  to  say 
less  of  him,  than  that  he  was  as 
unblemished  a  pattern  of  private 
and  social  qualities,  as  he  was  a 
perfect  model  of  theatrical  action 
and  dramatic  elocution. 

The  following  description  of 
him  is  given  by  Antony  Aston,  in 
a  pamphlet,  called,  A  Brief  Sup- 
plement to  Colley  Cibber,  Esq. 
his.  Lives  of  the  late  famous  Actor  i 


BET 


and  Actresses,  Svo.  "  Mr.  Bet- 
"  terton  (although  a  superlative 
"good  actor)  laboured  undti  an 
"  ill  figure,  being  clumsily  made, 
"  having  a  great  head,  a  short 
"  thick  neck,  stooped  in  the 
"  shoulders,  and  had  fat  short 
"  arms,  which  he  rarely  lifted 
f<  higher  than  his  stomach.  Hi? 
"  left  hand  frequently  lodged  in 
ic  his  breast,  between  his  coat 
"  and  waistcoat,  while  with  his 
"  right  he  prepared  his  speech. 
"  His  actions  were  few,  but  just. 
"  He  had  little  eyes  and  a  broad 
"  face,  a  little  pock-fretten,  a 
"  corpulent  body  and  thick  legs, 
"  with  large  feet.  He  was  better 
"  to  meet  than  to  follow ;  for  his 
"  aspect  was  serious,  venerable, 
"  and  majestic ;  in  his  latter  time 
"  a  little  paralytic.  His  voice 
"  was  low  and  grumbling;  yet  he 
"  could  tune  it  by  an  artful  cli- 
"  max,  which  enforced  universal 
"  attention,  even  from  the  fops 
"  and  orange-girls.  He  was  in- 
"  capable  of  dancing,  even  in  a 
"  country  dance ;  as  was  Mrs. 
"  Barry  :  but  their  good  qualities 
"  were  more  than  equal  to  their 
"  deficiencies." 

Mr.  Addison  thus  speaks  of 
Betterton :  "  Such  an  actor  as  Mr, 
"  Betterton  ought  to  be  recorded 
'*  with  the  same  respect  as  Roscius 
"  amongtheRomans.  The  greatest 
"  orator  (Tully)  has  thought  fit 
"  to  quote  his  judgment,  and  ce- 
"  lebrate  his  life.  Roscius  was 
"  the  example  to  all  that  would 
"  form  themselves  into  proper  and 
"  winning  behaviour  :  his  action 
"  was  so  well  adapted  to  the  sen- 
"  timents  he  expressed,  that  the 
"  youth  of  Rome  thought  they 
"  wanted  only  to  be  virtuous  to 
"  be  as  graceful  in  their  appear- 
<e  ance  as  Roscius.  The  imagina- 
"  tion  took  a  lovely  impression  of 
d  4 


40 

BET 

"  what  was  great  and  good  ;  and 
"  they,    who   never   thought    of 
*'  setting  up  for  the  art  of  iraita- 
''  tion,  became  themselves  inimi- 
"  table  characters.     There  is  no 
**  human  invention  so  aptly  cal- 
"■  culated  for  the  forming  a  free- 
"  born  people,  as  that  of  a  theatre. 
"  Tully  reports,  that  the  celebrated 
"  Roscius  used  frequently  to  say, 
"  the  perfection  of  an   actor   is, 
*'  only  to  become  what  he  is  do- 
"  ing.     I   have  hardly  a  notion, 
"  that  any  performer  of  antiquity 
"  could  surpass  the  action  of  Mr. 
"  Betterton,  in  any  of  the  occa- 
"  sions  in  which  he  has  appeared 
"  on  our  stage.     The  wonderful 
*'  agony  which  he   appeared   in, 
"  when  he  examined  the  circum- 
"  stance  of  the  handkerchief  in 
"  the  part  of  Othello ;  the  mix- 
**  ture  of  love  that  intruded  upon 
"  his   mind,    upon  the   innocent 
f*  answers  Desdemona  makes,  be- 
*'  trayed  in  his  gesture  such  a  va- 
"  riety  and  vicissitude  of  passions, 
*'  as  would  admonish  a  man  to  be 
f*  afraid    of  his  own    heart ;    and 
'*  perfectly  convince  him,  that  it  is 
"  to  stab  it,  to  admit  that  worst  of 
"  daggers,    jealousy.       Whoever 
"  reads  in  his  closet  this  admirable 
"  scene  will  find,  that  he  cannot 
"  (except  he  has  as  warm  an  ima- 
"  gination  as  Shakspeare  himself) 
"  find   any   but  dry,  incoherent, 
"  and  broken  sentences.     But  a 
**  reader,  that  has  seen  Betterton 
"  act  it,  observes,  there  could  not 
"  be  a  word  added ;  that  longer 
f  speeches   had   been   unnatural, 
"  nay,    impassible,    in   Othello's 
"  circumstances." 

It  was  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Bet- 
teiton  that  Queen  Anne  settled  on 
his  widow  the  pension  we  have 
taken  notice  of  above,  which  how- 
ever she  did  not  enjoy  long  :  the 
grief  for  the  loss  of  so  good  a 


B  I  C 

husband,  with  whom  she  lived 
forty  years  in  the  utmost  harmony 
and  affection,  wrought  so  strongly 
en  her  delicate  fmme,  which  was 
already  enfeebled  by  old  age,  and 
a  long  state  of  bad  health,  that  it 
very  soon  deprived  her  of  her  rea- 
son, and,  at  the  end  of  a  year  and 
a  half,  of  her  life  also. 

El(  KF.HSTAVFE,    ISAAC.      A   1W- 

tive  of  Ire-land,  and  for  some  time 
one  of  the  most  successful  writers 
for  the  stage.  He  was  probably 
born  about  the  year  1/35,  having 
been  appointed  one  of  the  pages 
to  Lord  Chesterfield,  when  he 
was  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland, 
in  1746.  He  was  once  an  officer 
of  marines,  but  left  the  service 
with  circumstances  which  do  not 
reflect  credit  on  him  as  a  man. 
He  is  said  to  be  still  living  at 
some  place  abroad,  to  which  a 
deed  without  a  name  has  banished 
him,  and  where  he  exists  poor  and 
despised  by  all  orders  of  people. 
He  is  the  author  of, 

1.  Leucothoe.   D.  P.  8vo.  1/56. 

2.  Thomas  and  Sally  ;  or..  The 
Suitor's  Return.   M.  E.  8vo.  ljo'O. 

3.  Love  in  a  Village.  C.  O.  8vo. 
1763. 

4.  Judith.  Orat.  4to.   1764. 

5.  The  Maid  of  the  MIL  C.  O. 
8vo.    1/fjj. 

6.  Daphne  and  Amintor.  CO. 
8vo.    1705. 

7-  The  Plain  Dealer.  C.  8vo. 
1700. 

8.  Love  in  the  City.  C.  O.  8vo. 
17<57. 

O  Lionel  and  CiatrUsa.  (C,  O, 
Svo.   1768. 

10.  The  Absent  Man.  F.  Svo. 
1708. 

11.  The  Royal  Garland.  O.  I. 
Svo.   176s. 

12.  TJk  Padlock,  C.  O.  8vo. 
1768. 

13.  The  Hypocrite.  C.8vo.l76*&- 


41 

B  I  R 

M,  The  Ephesian  Matron.  C.S. 
Svo.  17&J. 

15.  Dr.  Last  in  his  Chariot.  C. 
Svo.   l/6(). 

16.  The  Captive.     C.  O.    Svo. 

1769. 

17.  A  School  for  Fathers.  CO. 
Svo.  1770. 

IS.  T«  #£//  */'$  ;i0  #or$e. 
C.   Svo.   1770. 

1  p .  The  Recruiting  Serjeant.  M . 
E.  Svo.  1770. 

20.  He  wotild  if  he  could;  or, 
An  old  Fool  worse  than  any.  Buvl. 
Svo.   1771. 

21.  The  Sultan.  F.  1775  5  Svo. 
17S7- 

To  him  also  has  been  ascribed, 

22.  The  Spoiled  Child.  F.  Svo. 
1805. 

Bicknell,  Alexander.  A 
gentleman  who  published,  in  1792, 
an  entertaining  volume,  called 
Instances  of  the  MutalHity  of  For- 
tune, selected  from  ancient  and 
modern  History ;  and  also  wrote 
one  drama,  entitled, 

The  Patriot  King.  Tr.  Svo. 
1738. 

Biddle,  Edward,  author  of 
a  fragment  of  a  play,  called, 

Augustus.    Trag.  Svo.   1717- 

Bidlake,  Rev.  John,  B.  A. 
chaplain  to  His  Royal  Highness 
the  Duke  of  Clarence,  and  master 
of  the  grammar-school  at  Ply- 
mouth, was  educated  at  Christ 
Church,  Oxford,  and  was  some- 
time chaplain  to  Earl  Ferrers. 
Besides  several  sermons,  and  mis- 
cellaneous poems,  this  gentleman 
has  published  one  dramatic  piece, 
viz. 

Virginia.  Tr.  8vo.   1800. 

Birch,  Samuel,  is  the  son  of 
Mr.  Lucas  Birch,  and  was  born 
in  London,  November  8,  1757. 
He  received  his  education  at  the 
academy  of  Mr.  Crawford,  at 
Newington,  Surry.  When  he  re- 


B  I  R 

turned  home,  he  was  apprenticed 
to  his  father ;  who,  it  need  scarce- 
ly be  added,  had  for  a  series  of 
years  conducted  the  business  of  a 
pastry-cook,  in  Cornhill,  in  a 
manner  that  rendered  his  esta- 
blishment the  first,  in  that  line, 
in  the  city  of  London. 

During  this  time  it  was  that  the 
subject  of  this  memoir,  feeling 
that  strong  impulse  which  is  ever 
the  concomitant  of  genius,  devoted 
all  the  leisure  hours  which  a  se- 
dulous attention  to  his  occupation 
would  allow,  to  the  cultivation  of 
his  mental  powers,  and  the  im- 
provement of  literary  acquire- 
ments ;  and,  as  it  has  since  ap- 
peared, with  considerable  success. 

In  the  year  1778,  Mr.  Birch 
married  the  daughter  of  the  late 
Dr.  John  Fordyce ;  a  union  pro- 
ductive of  much  happiness  and  a 
numerous  family  ;  consisting,  as 
we  have  been  informed,  of  thirteen 
children. 

At  this  period,  it  will  be  re- 
membered, that  many  societies, 
upon  the  plan  of  that  at  the  Robin 
Hood,  which  had  declined,  were 
instituted  in  the  metropolis ;  and 
although  some,  from  the  want  of 
proper  regulation,  were  censured, 
others  were  highly  respectable; 
and  as  we  know  that  several  who 
have  greatly  distinguished  them- 
selves in  the  senate,  and  at  the  bar, 
were  either  members  or  visitors, 
we  may  say  useful.  At  one  of  these 
forums,  held  in  the  large  rooms 
formerly  belonging  to  the  King's 
Arms  Tavern,  Cornhill,  Mr.  Birch, 
in  the  winter  of  1 778,  made  his 
first  essay  in  public  elocution. 
The  applause  that  he  met  with 
encouraged  him  to  continue  this 
practice,  the  most  useful  of  any 
to  which  a  man,  whose  situation 
calls  for  public  exertions,  can  at-, 
tach  himself. 


42 


£  I  R 

In  1/81,  he  was  elected  one  of 
the  common-council,  and  in  the 
year  17&9  appointed  deputy,  of 
die  ward  of  Cornhill ;  in  which 
important  situation  he  had  scarcely 
taken  his  seat,  before  he  had  oc- 
casion to  exert  those  abilities  to 
which  we  have  alluded.  In  his 
maiden  speech,  which  breathed 
those  genuine  effusions  of  loyalty 
that  have  so  strongly  and  so  uni- 
formly marked  his  character  from 
his  entrance  into  public  life,  he 
counteracted  the  machinations,  and 
crushed  the  pretensions,  of  the 
partizans  of  the  Yorkshire  dele- 
gates, who,  with  a  modesty  con- 
sonant to  their  character,  wished 
to  sit  in,  and  appropriate  the 
Guildhall  of  London  to  purposes 
inimical  to  the  constitution  aud 
government. 

The  line  of  political  conduct 
which  Mr.  Birch  pursued  had  led 
him  to  stand  forward  as  a  steady 
and  strenuous  supporter  of  Mr. 
Pitt's  administration.  Of  his  zeal- 
ous attachment  to  the  principles 
q{  the  premier  he  gave  instances 
in  the  years  ] /84, 1  ~86, and  1 JSJ  ; 
but  the  most  distinguished  of  his 
efforts  as  a  public  speaker  was 
directed  in  opposition  to  the  repeal 
of  the  Corporation  and  Test  Acts 
in  the  year  17S9. 

When,  in  consequence  of  the 
French  revolution,  or  rather  revo- 
lutions (for  every  day  teemed  with 
new  horrors),  this  country  was 
menaced  with  invasion,  Mr.  Birch, 
in  the  Corporation,  proposed  the 
measure  of  arming  and  training 
the  inhabitants  as  Volunteers  ; 
which  has  since  been  reduced  to  a 
system,  generally  approved  and  ap- 
plauded, and  indeed  universally 
confessed  to  have  been,  under 
Providence,  the  salvation  of  the 
country.    Yet,  such   is  the  per- 


B  I  R 

version  of  the  human  mind,  and 
such  is  the  influence  of  times  and 
seasons,  that  this  proposal  was 
then  negatived  in  a  manner  so  de- 
cisive, that  the  proposer  stood 
alone  in  the  minority ;  though 
with  him,  certainly,  rests  the  ho- 
nour of  having  first  brought  it 
forward. 

On  the  subsequent  adoption  of 
this  wise  and  salutary  measure, 
the  ward  of  Cornhill,  on  the  sug- 
gestion of  Mr.  Birch,  was  the  first 
to  carry  it  into  effect.  At  this 
time  he  was  a  lieutenant.  As 
their  force  increased,  he  became 
major ;  and,  upon  the  final  mili- 
tary establishment,  he  had  the  ho- 
nour to  be  appointed  to  the  situa- 
tion of  lieutenant-colonel  com- 
mandant of  the  first  regiment  of 
Loyal  London  Volunteers.  - 

In  May  1807,  Mr.  Birch  was 
elected  alderman  of  his  ward,  in 
the  room  of  Alderman  Hankey. 

Animated  in  the  cause  of  lite- 
rature, combined  with  benevo- 
lence, the  poetical  effusions  of 
Mr.  Birch,  and  his  mode  of  re- 
citing them,  have  frequently  called 
forth  the  applause  of  the  members 
and  visitors  at  the  annual  meetings 
of  The  Literary  Fund;  and 
have,  in  their  more  general  effects 
upon  the  public,  been  attended 
with  considerable  advantage  to  that 
highly  estimable  institution. 

His  other  poetical  pieces  are 
chiefly  in  private  circulation.  Of 
those  which  have  appeared  in 
print,  his  Abbey  of  A;nbred-ury, 
in  two  parts,  published  in  two 
succeeding  years,  is  possessed  ot 
great  merit. 

He  likewise,  very  early  in  life, 
published  ConsUia  ;  or,  Thoughts 
on  several  Subjects;  tending  to  im- 
prove the  morals,  and  direct  the 
attention  of  youth  to  proper  pur- 


43 


6  1  S 


suits.  This  work  met  with  great 
applause,  and  passed  very  soon 
through  two  editions. 

As  a  dramatist,  Mr.  Alderman 
Birch  is  to  be  recorded  as  au- 
thor of  the  following  pieces  : 

1.  The  Mariners.  M.  E.  1/93, 
N.P. 

2.  The  Packet  Boat.  M.  1794. 
N.P. 

3.  The  Adopted  Child.  M.  D. 
Svo.  1/Q5. 

4.  The  Smugglers.  M.D.  8vo. 
1/96. 

5.  Fast  Asleep.  M.  E.  1797. 
N.P. 

6.  Albert  and  Adelaide.  Rom. 
1/93.     N.P. 

Birrel,  Andrew.  Of  this 
writer  we  know  no  more  than  that 
his  name  appears  to  a  play  called 

Henry  and  Atmeria.  T.  8vo. 
1802. 

Bishop,  Samuel,  was  of  a  re- 
spectable family  in  Dorsetshire, 
but  was  born  in  St.  John's  Street, 
London,  Sept.  21,  1731.  He  was 
educated  at  Merchant  Taylors' 
School,  to  which  he  was  admitted 
June  (5,  1743.  On  the  llth  of 
June  1750,  he  was  elected  to  St. 
John's  College,  Oxford,  and  ad- 
mitted a  fellow  in  June  1753.  In 
1754  he  took  the  degree  of  B.  A. ; 
and  in  1758  that  of  M.  A.  In 
the  latt»r  year  he  was  elected  un- 
der master  of  Merchant  Taylors' 
School ;  and  in  January  17S3  suc- 
ceeded to  the  head  mastership,  in 
which  station  he  continued  until 
his  death,  Nov.  17,  1795.  At 
one  period  of  his  lite  he  employed 
himself  in  writing  a  tragedy  for 
the  stage,  on  some  subject  of 
English  history  ;  but  relinquished 
the  design  before  he  had  made 
much  progress  in  it.  He  also  as- 
sisted Woodward  in  a  piece  called 
The  Seasons ;  and  was  the  author 
of  •        •   • 


The  Fairy  Benison.  Int.  4to. 
1796. 

Bladen,  Martin.  This  gen- 
tleman was  of  Abrey  Hatch,  in 
the  county  of  Essex,  and  formerly 
an  officer  in  the  army,  bearing  the 
commission  of  a  lieutenant-colonel 
in  Queen  Anne's  reign,  under  the 
great  Duke  of  Marlborough,  to 
whom  he  dedicated  a  translation 
of  Csesar's  Commentaries,  which  is 
to  this  day  a  book  held  in  very 
good  estimation.  In  1714,  he  was 
made  comptroller  of  the  Mint,  and, 
in  1717>  one  of  the  lords  commis- 
sioners of  trade  and  plantations. 
In  the  same  year  he  was  appointed 
envoy  extraordinary  to  the  court 

of  Spain,  in  the   room  of  

Brett,  Esq.  but  declined  it,  choosing 
rather  to  keep  the  post  he  already 
had,  which  was  worth  a  thousand 
pounds  per  annum,  and  which  he 
never  parted  with  till  his  death, 
which  was  on  the  14th  of  February 
1746.  He  was  in  the  5th,  6th, 
and  7th  parliaments  of  Great  Bri- 
tain member  for  Stockbridge,  in 
the  8th  for  Maiden,  and  the  9th 
for  Portsmouth.  Coxeter  hints  that 
he  was  secretary  of  state  in  Ireland ; 
but  in  this  he  seems  not  absolutely 
certain,  making  a  query  in  regard 
to  the  time  when,  which  however 
must,  if  at  all,  have  been  in  Queen 
Anne's  reign  j  for,  from  the  third 
year  of  George  I.  to  the  time  of 
his  death,  he  held  his  place  at  the 
board  of  trade,  and,  we  believe,  was 
not  out  of  England. 

He  wrote  two  dramatic  pieces, 
both  of  which  (for  the  one  is  only 
a  masque  introduced  in  the  third 
act  of  the  other)  were  printed  in 
4to.  in  the  ye:ir  1705,  without  the 
author's  consent.  Their  names 
are, 

1 .  Orpheus  and  Eurydice,    M. 

2..  Solon.     T. C- 

B*.anch,  John.    This  gentle- 


44 


BOA 

man,  who  appears  to  have  lived 
near  Gloucester,  and  is  said  in  the 
title-page  of  his  first  performance 
to  have  been  a  clothier,  was  the  au- 
thor of  three  very  contemptible 
pieces,  none  of  which  were  ever 
acted.    They  are  entitled, 

1 .  The  Beau  Merchant.  Com. 
4to.  17H. 

2.  Swords  into  Anchors.  Com. 
4to.  1725. 

3.  Hoops  into  Spinning-wheels. 
T.  C.     4to.  1725. 

By  his  own  account,  in  his  de- 
dication to  the  second-mentioned 
piece,  he  must  have  been  born 
about  l650j  as  he  then,  in  1725, 
declares  himself  to  be  seventy-five 
years  of  age.  In  the  third  parlia- 
ment of  Great  Britain,  which  met 
in  1710,  John  Blanch,  Esq.  was 
returned  as  member  for  the  city  of 
Gloucester,  but  we  do  not  know 
that  he  was  the  same  person. 

Bland,  John.  Of  this  author 
we  have  no  further  account  than 
what  appears  in  the  drama  here- 
after mentioned.  He  is  there, 
styled  Gentleman,  and  then  lived 
in  Portpool  Lane,  Gray's  Inn  Lane, 
where  he  professed  to  instruct  any 
gentleman  in  the  art  of  punctua- 
tion by  the  accent  points  in  the 
Hebrew  code.  He  died,  at  his 
house  in  Deptford,  about  Novem- 
ber 17S8,  having  published  what 
can  hardly  be  called  a  dramatic 
piece,  entitled 

The  Song  of  Solomon.  A  Dra- 
ma, in  seven  scenes.     8vo.  1750. 

Boaden,  James.  This  gentle- 
man is  a  native  of  Whitehaven, 
where  he  was  born  May  23,  1/62. 
His  father,  Mr.  William  Boaden, 
was  many  ■  years  in  the  Russia 
trade.  Our  author  was  brought 
to  London  at  an  early  age,  and, 
being  intended  for  the  mercantile 
profession,  was  placed  in  the 
counting-house  of  the  late  Alder- 


BOD 

man  Perch ard.  Mr.  Boaden  was 
at  one  time  a  very  active  and  able 
contributor  to  (we  rather  believe, 
editor  of)  the  m.-rning  newspaper 
called  The  Oracle;  in  which,  we 
think,  he  was  the  first  person 
who,  in  1795,  attacked  the  MSS. 
that  were  attempted  to  be  ob- 
truded on  the  public  as  Shak- 
speare's.  His  observations  on  this 
subject  were  digested  and  pub- 
lished in  a  pamphlet,  A  Letter  to 
George  Stcevens,  Esq.  Svo.  I79G. 
His  dramatic  productions  are  as 
follow  : 

1.  Osmyn  and  Daraxa.  Mus. 
Rom.     Songs  only,  8vo.  1793. 

2.  Fontainville  Forest.  P.  Svo. 
1794. 

3.  Secret  Tribunal.  P.  8vo. 
1795. 

4.  Italian  Monk.  P.  8vo.  1 797. 

5.  Camhro- Britons.  Hist.  P. 
8vo.  1798. 

().  Aurelio   and  Miranda.     Dr.  ' 
8vo.  1799. 

7.  The  Voice  of  Nature.  P.  8vo. 
1803. 

8.  Maid  of  Bristol.  P.  8vo. 
1803. 

Bodens,  Charles.  This  gen- 
tleman had  a  commission  in  the 
foot-guards;  besides  which  he  had 
the  honour  of  being  for  many  years 
one  of  the  gentlemen  ushers  to  his 
late  Majesty.  He  was  a  man  of 
a  gay  turn  and  lively  disposition, 
which  he  indulged  by  the  com- 
posing one  piece  for  the  stage, 
which  was  far  from  being  totally 
devoid  of  merit,  and  yet  did  not 
meet  with  any  very  extraordinary 
success.     It  was  entitled 

The  Modish  Couple.  C.  8vo. 
1732. 

This  play  has  been  since  cut 
down  into  a  farce,  and  was  acted  in 
the  year  176O,  for  Mr.  Yates's  be- 
nefit, by  the  title  of 

Marriage  a- la- Mode. 


45 


BON 

It  has  not,  however,  made  its 
appearance  in  print  under  the  lat- 
ter form. 

Boissy,  Michael.  AFrench- 
man,  who,  in  the  title-page  of  his 
translation,  styles  himself  a  bar- 
rister at  law  in  Paris,  and  teacher 
of  the  modern  languages  at  the 
academy  of  Heath,  in  Yorkshire. 
He  published 

The  Miser  of  Moliere.  12mo. 
1/52. 

Bond,  William.  A  gentle- 
man, we  believe,  of  the  county  of 
Suffolk.  He  appears  to  have  been 
a  person  of  very  little  genius ; 
though  it  is  probable  that  his  whole 
subsistence  was,  at  least  in  the  latter 
part  of  his  life,  derived  from  his 
writings.  Among  other  perform- 
ances he  translated  Buchanan's 
History  ;  and  was  jointly  concern- 
ed with  Aaron  Hill  in  writing 
The  Plain  Dealer,  a  series  of  pa- 
pers, afterwards  collected  in  two 
volumes,  8vo.  From  that  muni- 
ficent friend,  he  was  compliment- 
ed with  his  tragedy  of  Zara ; 
which,  after  being  offered  to  the 
managers  of  both  theatres,  and 
delayed  for  two  years,  was  obliged 
to  be  acted  at  the  Great  Room  in 
York  Buildings.  The  profits  of 
the  performance  were  intended 
for  the  benefit  of  Mr.  Bond,  who 
himself  represented  Lusignan;  but 
he  played  only  one  night}  for,  be- 
ing in  a  weak  condition,  he  faint- 
ed on  the  stage,  was  carried  home 
in  his  chair,  and  died  next  morn- 
ing. This  happened  in  1735,  the 
year  before  Zara  was  originally 
performed  at  Drury  Lane. 

Mr.  Bond  produced  a  play  writ- 
ten by  a  gentleman  deceased,  but 
revised  and  altered  by  himself, 
called 

TheTuscanTreaty,  or, Tarquin's 
Overthrow.     T,     Syo.  1/33. 


BON 


Bonnoh,  Charles,  was  th« 
son  of  an  eminent  distiller  in  Bris- 
tol, and  intended  for  a  coach- 
maker  ;  but,  impatient  of  restraint, 
he  prematurely  burst  the  bond 
which  was  intended  to  hold  him  in 
a  seven  years  course  of  training 
for  that  business  j  and  in  the  year 
1777  made  his  first  appearance  on 
the  stage  at  Bath,  in  the  character 
of  Belcour.  His  reception  was 
highly  flattering  j  and  his  subse- 
quent performances  of  Ranger, 
Charles  Surface,  Benedict,  and  the 
whole  range  of  the  elegant  spright- 
ly cast  of  genteel  comedy,  con- 
firmed his  claims  to  the  partiality 
which  he  continued  to  experience 
there,  till  the  year  1783,  when  he 
became  the  successor  to  Mr.  Lee- 
Lewes,  at  Covent  Garden  theatre. 
His  first  appearance  there,  Sept. 
\g  of  that  year,  was  marked  by 
the  novelty  of  his  writing  and 
speaking  an  occasional  Address,  to 
introduce  himself  in  the  character 
of  Captain  Brazen  ;  and  two  la- 
dies— Miss  Scrace,  from  Bath,  who 
performed  Sylvia ;  and  Mrs.  Chal- 
mers, from  Norwich,  who  acted 
the  part  of  Rose.  Mr.  Bonnor 
was  well  received,  and  maintained 
in  the  metropolis  the  professional 
reputation  that  he  had  acquired  at 
Bath.  Mr.  Palmer,  the  proprietor 
of  that  theatre,  had  not  overlook- 
ed in  Mr.  Bonnor  the  possession  of 
talents  which  qualified  him  for  the 
more  important  pursuits  of  life ; 
and  he  availed  himself  of  his  as- 
sistance in  the  earlier  arrangements 
and  experiments  of  the  Mail-coach 
plan,  which  eventually  terminated 
Mr.  Bonnor's  theatrical  career,  by 
his  being  appointed  deputy  comp- 
troller-general of  the  Post  Office. 
The  appointment  of  comptrol- 
ler-general ceased  on  Mr.  Pal- 
mers removal  from  the  Post  Office 


<* 


fe  6  N 


BON 


in  the  year  1705,  when  a  new 
arranger.  platfe,  and  Mr. 

Bonne:  51  at  his  own  re- 

que-:.  to  the  comptrollership  of 
th  •  fend  depart irent,  which  he 
he'.d  two  years.  The  mail -coach 
plan,  and  all  the  corresponding 
internal  arrangements,  !>eing  then 
completed,  the  comptroller's  office, 
with  many  others,  were  abolished; 
and  he  retired  with  a  handsome 
provision  for  life,  as  a  recompense 
for  his  past  services. 

In  the  year  1/34  Mr.  Bonnor 
was  selected  by  Mr.  Harris,  the 
proprietor  of  Covent  Garden  the- 
atre, as  the  fittest  person  to  ne- 
gotiate and  arrange  a  project, 
which  has  an  indisputable  claim 
to  a  place  in  the  page  of  theatric 
history.  It  had  been  represented 
to  Mr.  Harris,  by  a  friend  of  his, 
who  resided  at  Paris,  and  had  fre- 
quent access  to  the  royal  family 
during  their  hours  of  privacy  at 
Versailles,  that  the  establishing  an 
English  theatre  at  Paris  had  been 
the  frequent  subject  of  conversa- 
tion among  the  higher  orders;  and, 
through  the  Count  d'Artois,  had 
obtained  the  approbation  of  the 
Queen.  To  ascertain  these  facts, 
and  the  practicability  of  such  a 
plan,  Mr.  Bonnor,  the  appointed 
ambassador  and  destined  manager 
of  the  scheme,  was  dispatched  to 
Paris  with  full  powers  to  nego- 
tiate. 

Previous  to  his  departure,  he 
disclosed  the  intention  toMr.Kem- 
ble,  Mr.  Lewis,  Mr.  Henderson, 
Miss  Young,  Miss  Farren,  and 
other  principal  performers  of  Dai- 
ry Lane  and  Covent  Garden  thea- 
tres, who  readily  engaged  to  be  of 
the  party,  in  case  the  plan  should 
be  resolved  on.  After  a  residence 
of  several  weeks  in  Paris,  the  pre- 
liminaries were  so  far  setiled,  as 


to  induce  Mr.  Bonnor  actually  to 
engage  that  superb  theatre,  which 
constitutes  one  of  the  grand  divi- 
sions of  the  palace  of  the  Thuil- 
leries.  It  was  at  that  time  seldom 
used,  and  reserved  chiefly  for  con- 
certs and  select  occasions.  Every 
thing  being  arranged,  he  was 
about  to  return  to  London  ;  when 
his  departure  was  retarded  some 
days,  for  the  purpose  of  his  being 
piesented  by  the  Count  dArtois 
to  the  Queen,  to  receive  Her  Ma- 
jesty's personal  assurances  of  the 
protection  and  countenance  which 
she  meant  to  bestow  upon  the  un- 
dertaking. On  the  day  appointed, 
he  repaired  to  Versailles  for  that 
purpose;  where,  however,  instead 
of  the  flattering  assurances  which 
he  calculated  upon  receiving,  he 
was  abruptly  given  to  understand, 
but  in  terms  of  extreme  ambiguity, 
and  unquestionable  regret,  that 
some  unforeseen  occasion  rendered 
the  further  prosecution  of  the  de- 
sign altogether  impracticable  at 
that  period;  and,  without  any  pos- 
sible ground  of  conjecture  as  to 
the  cause  of  the  sudden  change, 
the  object  was  necessarily  aban- 
doned. It  afterwards  turned  out 
to  be  occasioned  by  the  first  dis- 
covery, at  that  precise  time,  of 
the  deep  root  which  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Revolution  had 
even  then  unsuspectedly  taken, 
which  did  not  break  out  till  five 
years  after. 

On  his  return  from  this  excur- 
sion, Mr.  Bonnor  presented  to  the 
public,  at  Covent  Garden  theatre, 
his  translation  ot'  a  dramatic  trifle, 
which  he  called, 

1.  Tke  Manager  an  Actor  in 
spite  of Himself \  Int.  1784.  N.  P. 

In  a  subsequent  visit  which  he 
made  to  Paris,  in  the  year  1790,  he 
collected  materials  for  a  very  in- 


*47 


BOO 


teresting  pantomime,  which  ap- 
peared at  Covent  Garden  the  same 
year,  entitled, 

2.  The  Picture  of  Paris.  17 90. 
N.  P. 

Besides  an  infinite  variety  of 
incidents  and  characters,  altogether 
new  to  an  English  audience,  it 
gave  faithful  representations  of  the 
grand  federation  ceremony  in  the 
Champ  de  Mars,  on  the  14th  of 
July  1/90,  when  Louis  the  XVIth 
swore  fidelity  to  the  new  and 
short-lived  constitution. 

Booth,  Barton.  This  gen- 
tleman, who  was  an  author,  and 
also  a  very  eminent  actor,  was 
descended  from  an  ancient  and 
honourable  family,  which  origin- 
ally had  a  settlement  in  the  county 
palatine  of  Lancaster.  He  was  the 
third  son  of  John  Booth,  Esq.  who 
was  nearly  related  to  the  Earl  of 
Warrington,  and  who,  though  his 
fortune  was  not  very  considerable, 
was  extremely  attentive  to  the  edu- 
cation of  his  children.  In  con- 
sequence of  this  parental  care,  he 
put  the  subject  of  our  present  ob- 
servations, as  soon  as  he  arrived  at 
the  age  of  nine  years,  to  West- 
minster School,  where  he  was  first 
under  the  tuition  of  the  famous 
Dr.  Busby,  and  afterwards  under 
that  of  his  successor,  the  no  less  fa- 
mous Dr.  Knipe.  Here  he  showed 
a  strong  passion  for  learning  in  ge- 
neral, and  more  particularly  for  an 
acquaintance  with  the  Latin  poets, 
the  finest  passages  in  whose  works 
he  used  with  great  pains  to  im- 
print in  his  memory  ;  and  had  be- 
sides such  a  peculiar  propriety  and 
judicious  emphasis  in  the  repeti- 
tion of  them,  assisted  by  so  fine  a 
tone  of  voice,  and  adorned  with 
such  a  natural  gracefulness  of  ac- 
tion, as  drew  on  him  the  admira- 
tion of  the  whole  school,   and, 


BOO 

added  to  the  sprightliness  of  his 
parts  in  general,  strenglv  recom- 
mended him  to  the  notice  of  his 
master,  Dr.  Busby,  who  having 
himself,  when  young,  obtained 
great  applause  in  the  performance 
of  a  part  in  The  Royal  Stave,  a  play 
written  by  William  Cartwright, 
had  ever  after  held  theatrical  ac- 
complishments in  the  highest  esti- 
mation. 

In  consequence  of  this  extraor- 
dinary talent,  when,  according  to 
the  custom  of  the  school,  a  Latin 
play  was  to  be  performed,  Mr. 
Booth  was  fixed  upon  for  the  act- 
ing the  capital  part.  The  play 
happened  to  be  the  Andria,  and 
the  part  assigned  to  him  that  of 
Pamphilus,  the  young  Bevil  of 
Terence ;  in  which  the  musical 
sweetness  of  his  voice,  his  elegance 
of  deportment,  and  gracefulness  of 
action,  drew  the  universal  applause 
of  all  the  spectators ;  and  he  has 
himself  confessed,  that  this  circum- 
stance was  what  first  fired  his 
young  breast  with  theatrical  am- 
bition. His  father  intended  him 
for  the  pulpit ;  but  his  mind  and 
inclinations  were  now  so  fixed  on 
the  stage,  that,  when  he  had  ar- 
rived at  the  age  of  seventeen,  and 
the  time  approached  when  he  must 
have  been  taken  from  school  in 
order  to  be  sent  to  the  university, 
he  determined  to  run  any  risque 
rather  than  enter  on  a  course  of 
life  so  unsuitable  to  the  natural 
vivacity  of  his  disposition  ;  and, 
therefore,  becoming  acquainted 
with  Mr.  Ash  bury,  manager  of 
the  Dublin  theatre,  who  was  then 
in  London,  probably  on  the  re- 
cruiting scheme,  and  was  very 
glad  to  receive  a  youth  of  such 
promising  expectations  and  grow- 
ing genius,  he  immediately  quitted 
all  other  views,  engaged  himself 


43 


BOO 

to  Mr.  Ashbury,  stole  away  from 
school,  and  went  over  to  Ireland 
with    that     gentleman     in    June 

His  first  appearance  on  the  stage 
was  in  the  part  of  Oroonoko,  in 
which  he  came  off  with  every  testi- 
monial of  approbation  from  the 
audience.  From  this  time  he  con- 
tinued daily  improving,  and,  after 


BOO 

at  the  same  time  the  Tories,  who 
had  too  much  sense  to  appear  to 
consider  it  as  a  reflection  on  their 
administration,  were  still  more  ve- 
hement in  their  approbation  of  it, 
which  they  carried  to  such  an 
height,  as  even  to  make  a  collec- 
tion of  fifty  guineas  in  the  boxes 
during  the  time  of  the  perform- 
ance, and   present   them    to  Mr. 


two  successful  campaigns  in  that  Booth,  with  this  compliment,  That 
kingdom,  conceived  thoughts  of  it  was  a  slight  acknowledgment 
returning  to  his  native  country,  for  his  honest  opposition  to  a  perpe- 
and   making  a  trial  of  his  abilities    tual  dictator  ,and  his  dying  so  brare/y 


on  the  English  stage.  To  this  end 
he  first  by  letters  reconciled  him- 
self to  his  friends  ;  and  then,  as  a 
further  step  towards  insuring  his 
success,  obtained  a  recommenda- 
tion from  Lord  Fitzharding  (one 
of  the  Lords  of  the  Bedchamber  to 
Prince  George  of  Denmark)  to 
Mr.  Betterton,  who,  with  great 
candour  and  goodnature,  took  him 
under  his  care,  and  gave  him  all 
the  assistance  in  his  power. 

The  first  part  Mr.  Booth  ap- 
peared in  at  London,  which  was 
in  1/01,  was  that  of  Maximus,  in 
Lord  Rochester's  Valentinian,  his 
reception  in  which  exceeded  even 
his  most  sanguine  expectations  ; 
and  very  soon  after  his  performance 
of  Artaban,  in  Rowe's  Ambitious 
Stepmother,  which  was  a  new  tra- 
gedy, established  his  reputation  as 
second  at  least  to  his  great  instruc- 
tor. Pyrrhus,  in  The  Distress'd 
Mother,  was  another  part  in  which 
he  shone  without  a  rival.  But  he 
was  indebted  to  a  happy  coinci- 
dence of  merit  and  chance  for  that 
height  of  fame  which  he  at  length 
attained,  in  the  character  of  Cato, 
as  drawn  by  Mr.  Addison,  in  1712 


in  the  cause  nf  liberty ;  besides 
which  he  had  another  present  of 
an  equal  sum  from  the  managers,  in 
consideration  of  the  great  success 
of  the  play,  which  they  attributed 
in  good  measure  to  his  extraordi- 
nary merit  in  the  performance. 

But  these  were  not  the  only  ad- 
vantages which  were  to  accrue  to 
Mr.  Booth  from  his  success  in  this 
part ;  for  Lord  Bolingbroke,  then 
one  of  the  principal  Secretaries  of 
State,  in  a  little  time  after  pro- 
cured a  special  license  from  Queen 
Anne,  recalling  all  the  former 
ones,  and  nominating  Mr.  Booth 
as  joint  manager  with  Wilks,  Cib- 
ber,  and  Dogget ;  none  of  whom 
were  pleased  at  it ;  but  the  last, 
more  especially,  took  such  disgust, 
as  to  withdraw  himself  from  any 
further  share  in  the  management. 

In  1/04,  Mr.  Booth  had  mar- 
ried a  daughter  of  Sir  William 
Barkham,  of  Norfolk,  Bart,  who 
died,  in  1/10,  without  issue.  Af- 
ter her  death,  he  engaged  in  an 
amour  with  Mrs.  Mountford,  who 
readily  put  her  whole  fortune, 
which  was  considerable,  being  not 
less  than  8000/.    into  his  hands. 


For  this  play  being  considered  as  This,  however,  he  very  honourably 
a  party  one,  the  Whigs,  in  favour  returned  to  her,  when,  on  the  dis- 
of  whose  principles  it  was  appa-  covery  of  her  intimacy  with  an- 
rently  written,  thought  it  their  other  gentleman,  he  thought  pro- 
duty  strongly  to  support  it ;  while  per  to  break  off  his  connexion 


BOO 

with  her.  She  had,  however,  great 
reason  to  repent  of  her  infidelity  to 
him  ;  for  her  new  lover  not  only 
embezzled  and  made  away  with  all 
her  money,  but  even  treated  her 
in  other  respects  extremely  ill,  and 
was  guilty  of  meannesses  greatly 
inconsistent  with  the  title  of  a 
gentleman. 

Bting  now  established  in  the 
management,  he  once  more  turned 
his  thoughts  towards  matrimony, 
and,  in  the  year  1719,  united  him- 
self to  the  celebrated  Miss  Hester 
Santlow,  a  woman  of  a  most  ami- 
able disposition,  whose  great  merit 
as  an  actress,  added  to  the  most 
prudential  economy,  had  enabled 
her  to  accumulate  a  considerable 
fortune,  which  was  by  no  means 
unacceptable  to  Mr.  Booth,  who, 
though  a  man  that  hid  the  strict- 
est regard  to  justice  and  punctua- 
lity in  his  dealings  with  every  one, 
yet  was  not  much  inclined  to  the 
saving  of  money. 

With  this  valuable  companion, 
he  continued  in  the  most  perfect 
state  of  domestic  happiness  till  the 
.year  1/U/,  when  he  was  attacked 
by  a  violent  fever,  which  lasted 
forty-six  days,  without  inter- 
mission ;  and  although,  through 
the  care  and  skill  of  those  great 
physicians,  Dr.  Freind  and  Dr. 
Broxholm,  by  whom  he  was  at- 
tended, he  got  the  better  of  the 
present  disorder,  yet  from  that 
time  to  the  day.  of  his  death, 
which  was  not  till  six  years  after, 
his  health  was  never  perfectly  re- 
established. Nor  did  he  ever, 
during  that  interval,  appear  on  the 
stage,  excepting  in  the  run  of  a 
play,  called  The  Double  Falsehood, 
brought  on  the  theatre  by  Mr. 
Theobald,  in  1729,  and  asserted, 
but  unjustly,  to  be  written  by 
Shakspeare.  In  this  piece,  he  was 
prevailed  on  to  accept  a  part  on 
vol.  1. 


49 

BOO 

the  fifth  night  of  its  performance, 
which  he  continued  to  act  till  the 
twelfth,  which  was  the  last  time  of 
his  theatrical  appearance, although 
he  did  not  die  till  the  ]Oth  of  May 
1733,  when,  having  been  attacked 
by  a  complication  of  disorders,  he 
paid  the  last  debt  to  nature,  leav- 
ing behind  him  no  issue,  but  only 
a  disconsolate  widow,  who  imme- 
diately  quitted  the  stage,  devoting 
herself  entirely  to  a  private  life, 
and  who  survived  him  till  the  1 5th 
of  January  1//3.  A  copy  of  his 
will  may  be  seen  in  The  London 
Magazine  for  1733,  p.  I2(j,  in 
which  he  strongly  testifies  his 
esteem  for  this  amiable  woman, 
and  assigns  his  reasons  for  be- 
queathing her  the  whole  of  his 
fortune,  which  he  acknowledges 
not  to  be  more  than  two  thirds  of 
vh.it  he  received  from  her  on  the 
day  of  marriage. 

His  character  as  a  writer  has 
not  been  established  by  any  works 
of  great  importance ;  yet  he  was 
undoubtedly  a  mail  of  considerable 
erudition,  of  good  classical  know- 
ledge ;  and  though  what  he  has 
written  are  trivial  in  point  of  bulk 
and  extent,  yet  they  are  far  from 
being  so  in  point  of  merit.  He 
has  left  behind  him  only  one  dra- 
matic piece,  which,  though  suc- 
cessful, was  his  only  attempt  in 
that  way.     It  is  entitled, 

The  Death  of  Dido.  Masque, 
Svo.   171(3. 

With  respect  to  his  abilities  as 
an  actor,  there  is  surely  no  great 
occasion  to  expatiate  on  them,  as 
they  have  never  yet  been  called  in 
question]  the  applause  of  the  pub- 
lic bore  witness  to  them  in  his  life- 
time j  the  commendations  of  his 
contemporaries  have  handed  them 
down  to  posterity.  His  excellence 
lay  wholly  in  tragedy,  not  being 
able  to  endure  such  parts  as  had 


50 


BOO 


not  strong  passion  to  inspire  him. 
And  even  in  this  walk,  dignity  ra- 
ther than  complacency,  rage  rather 
than  tenderness,  seemed  to  be  his 
taste.  For  a  more  particular  idea  of 
him,  however,  we  shall  recommend 
to  our  readers  the  description  Mr. 
Cibber  lias  given  ot"  him   in  his 
Apology,  and  the  admirable  cha- 
racter drawn  of  him  by  that  excel- 
lent judge  in  dramatic  perfection, 
Aaron  Hill.  Esq.  in  a  paper  pub- 
lished by  him,  called  The  Prompter, 
which,  though  too  long  for  our  in- 
serting in  this  place,  may  be  seen 
at  length  in  Theoph.  Gibber's  Lives 
of  the  Poets;  and  in  Chetwood's 
History  of  the  Stage.   His  character 
as  a  man  was  adorned  with  many 
amiable  qualities,  among  which  a 
perfect  goodness  of  heart,  the  basis 
of  every  virtue,  was  remarkably 
conspicuous.  He  was  a  gay,  lively, 
cheerful  companion,  yet  humble 
and  diffident  of  his  own  abilities, 
by  which  means  he  acquired  the 
love  and  esteem  of  every  one;  and 
so  particularly  was  he  distinguished 
and  caressed,    and   his  company 
sought  by  the  great,  that,  as  Chet- 
wood  relates  of  him,  although  he 
kept  no  equipage  of  his  own,  not 
one  nobleman  in  the  kingdom  had 
so  many  sets  of  horses  at  command 
as  he  had.     For  at  the  time  that 
the  patentees,  jealous  of  his  merit, 
and  apprehensive  of  his   influence 
with  the  ministry,  in  order  to  pre- 
vent his  application  to  his  friends 
at  court,  which  was  then  kept  at 
Windsor,  took   care  to  give  him 
constant  employment  in  London, 
by  giving   out  every   night   such 
plays  as  he  had  principal  parts  in  ; 
yet  even  this  policy  could  not  avail 
them,    as   there   was    punctually 
every  night  the  chariot  and  six  of 
some  nobleman  or  other  waiting 
for  him  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
play,  which  carried  him  the  twenty 


B  O  U 

miles  in  three  hours  at  farthest, 
and  brought  him  back  again  next 
night,  time  enough  for  the  busi- 
ness of  the  theatre. 

Booth,  Mrs.  an  actress  of 
Covent  Garden  Theatre,  is  said  to 
have  been  the  alterer  of  the  fol- 
lowing : 

The  Pi  tile  French  Laicyer.  C. 
1/78.  N.  P. 

Boothby,  Frances.  Thisgen- 
tlewoman  lived  in  the  reign  of 
King  Giiarles  II.  and  was  related 
to  Lady  Yate,  of  Harvington,  in 
Worcestershire,  as  it  appears  from 
some  passages  in  the  dedication  of 
a  dramatic  piece,  which  she  has 
addressed  to  that  lady,  and  which 
was  performed  with  some  success 
at  the  Theatre  Royal.  The  title 
of  it  is, 

Marcelia.  T.  C.  4to.   l6/0. 
Boothby,  Sir  Brooke,  Bart, 
of  Ashbourne   Hall,   Derbyshire, 
and  Croperdy,  near  Banbury,  Ox- 
fordshire, is  author  of 

Britannicus.  T.  Svo.  1S03. 
The  name  and  family  of  Booth- 
by is  as  ancient,  in  this  nation,  as 
the  reign  of  Egbert.  The  present 
Baronet  succeeded  to  the  title  by 
the  death  of  his  father,  Sir  Brooke, 
in  1/Sp.  He  married  a  Miss 
Bristowe,  of  Wiltshire;  by  whom 
he  had  a  daughter,  Penelope,  born 
April  1 1,  1/85  ;  and  whose  death, 
March  13,  1791,  he  memorized, 
in  twenty-four  sonnets,  and  two 
elegies,  called  Sorrows :  sacred  to 
the  Memory  of  Penelope.  Folio. 
1796. 

Boulton,  Thomas.  This  gen- 
tleman was  probably  of  Liverpool, 
where  his  dramatic  piece  was  pub- 
lished.    It  is  called 

The  Sailors  Farewell ;  or,  The 
Guinea  Outfit.     C.   12mo.  1/OS. 

Bourchier,  John,  Lord  Ber- 
ners,  grandson  and  heir  of  a  Lord 
of  the  same  name,  who  was  de* 


51 


BOU 

trended  from  ThomaS  of  Wood- 
stock, Duke  of  Gloucester,  and 
had  been  knight  of  the  garter, 
and  constable  of  Windsor  C 
under  Edward  the  Fourth,  and  was 
first  known  by  quelling  ati  insur- 
rection in  Cornwall  and  Devon- 
shire, under  the  conduct  ot'JNIichael 
Joseph,  a  blacksmith,  in  14Q5, 
which  recommended  him  to  the 
favour  of  Henry  the  Seventh.  He 
was  captain  of  the  pioneers  at  the 
siege  of  Therouenne,  under  Henry 
the  Eighth,  by  whom  he  was 
made  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer 
for  life,  lieutenant  of  Calais  and 
the  Marches,  appointed  to  con- 
duct the  Lady  Mary,  the  King's 
sister,  into  France,  on  her  marriage 
with  Lewis  the  Twelfth,  and  with 
whom  (Henry  the  Eighth)  he  had 
the  rare  felicity  of  continuing  in 
favour  eighteen  years.  He  died 
in  1532,  leaving  his  gown  of 
damask-tawny  furred  with  jennets 
to  his  natural  son  Humphrey  Bour- 
chierj  and  certain  legacies  to 
two  other  illegitimate  sons,  having 
had  only  two  daughters  by  his 
wife  Catharine,  daughter  of  John 
Duke  of  Norfolk ;  from  one  ot' 
wdfich  ladies  was  descended  the 
late  Lady  Baroness  Berners,  whose 
right  to  that  title,  which  had  long 
lain  in  obscurity,  was  clearly  made 
out  and  recovered  by "  the  late 
Peter  Le  Neve,  Esq.  Norroy.  The 
title  of  Berners,  however,  became 
extinct  in  1/73. 

Lord  Berners,  by  the  command 
of  King  Henry,  translated  "  Frtds- 
"  sart's  Chronicle,"  which  was 
printed  in  1523,  by  Richard  Pinson 

He  wrote  and  translated  many 
other  works,  and  among  the  rest 
was  the  author  of  one  play,  catted 

Ite  in  Vine  am.     C.     N.P. 

He  died  at  Calais,  aged  63. 

Bouhgeois,  Bartholomew. 
We  know  not  whether  this  is  a 


3  O  W 

real  or  fictitious  name.    It  stands. 
however,  before  two  plays,  viz. 

1.  The  Squire  burlesqued j  or, 
The  Sharpers  out-wilted.  C.  8vo. 
1/65. 

2.  The  Disappointed  Coxcomb, 
C.  Svo.   1765. 

Bourne,  Reuben".  This  gen- 
tleman was  of  the  Middle  Temple, 
and  has  left  behind  him  one  play, 
entitled, 

The  Contented  Cuckold.  C.  4to, 
I692. 

Bowes, Mary  Eleanor, Coun- 
tess of  Strathmore,  was  daugh- 
ter and  sole  heiress  of  George 
Bowes,  Esq.  of  Gibside,  in  the 
county  of  Durham,  and  married, 
Feb.  14,  1/6",  John,  ninth  Earl 
of  Strathmore,  who  took  the  name 
of  Bowes,  pursuant  to  an  act  of 
Parliament,  in  the  same  year,  and 
had  issue  five  children,  three  sons 
and  two  daughters.  The  Earl 
dying  in  1/76,  she  married,  Jan. 
16,  1777'  Andrew  Robinson 
Stoney,  Esq.  who  also  took  the 
name  of  Bowes,  and  had  issue  a 
daughter,  born  Nov.  1777,  and  a 
son,  born  March  8,  1782.  After  a 
long  series  of  domestic  unhappi- 
ness,  a  separation  took  place:  soon 
after  which  he  attempted  to  carry 
her  oft'  from  her  lodgings,  in  Ox- 
ford Street,  Nov.  10,  17S6;  but 
she  regained  her  liberty ;  a  curious 
narrative  or  which  may  be  seen  in 
The  Gentleman's  Magazine,  lvi. 
IU79.  Mr.  Bowes  was  appre- 
hended, and  a  suit  commenced 
against  him  ;  and  March  3,  17S9-> 
Lady  S.  was  restored  to  her  pro- 
perty, and  divorced  from  the  un- 
fortunate connexion.  Mr.  Bowes, 
being  unable  to  pay  the  costs  in- 
curred by  the  suit  in  the  Spiritual 
Court,  was  ordered,  in  1790,  to 
remain  in  the  King's  Bench  till 
they  were  paid,  and  there  he  con- 
tinued till  his  death,  Jan.  r6,  1810. 
e  2 


52 


BOY 


Lady  S.  died  at  Christchurch, 
Hants,  April  2S,  1800,  and  her 
corpse  was  interred  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  in  a  superb  bridal  dress. 
Her  Ladyship  claims  a  place  in 
this  work  on  account  of  the  follow- 
ing dramatic  piece: 

The  Siege  of  Jerusalem.  T.  Svo. 

I.774. 

Boyce,  Samuel.  This  author 
was  originally  an  engraver,  and 
afterwards  had  a  place  in  the 
South  Sea  House.  He  died  21st 
March  1/75  5  having  published  se- 
veral poems  j  and  one  drama,  en- 
titled, 

The  Rover ;  or,  Happiness  at 
last.     D.  P.  4to.  1752. 

Boyce,  Thomas,  M.  A.  This 
gentleman,  rector  of  Worlingham, 
in  Suffolk,  and  chaplain  to  the 
Earl  of  Suffolk,  is  the  author  of 
one  plav,  called 

Harold.  Trag.  4to.  1786. 
Boyd,  Elizabeth.  Who  this 
lady  was  we  know  not,  but  find 
her  to  have  been  a  devotee  to  the 
Muses,  from  a  dramatic  piece  pub- 
lished under  her  name,  entitled, 

Don  Sancho;  or,  The  Student's 
Whim.     B.  O. 
to  which  is  added 

Minerva's  Triumph.  M.  Svo. 
J  73p. 

Boyd,  Henry,  A.  M.  This 
gentleman,  who  is  a  native  of 
Ireland,  vicar  of  Drumgath,  and 
chaplain  to  the  Lord  Viscount 
Charleville,  has  published  a  trans- 
lation of  the  Inferno  of  Dante ; 
and  also  The  Penance  of  Hugo :  a 
Vision  ;  in  the  manner  of  Dante  ; 
in  four  cantos.  Written  on  the 
occasion  of  the  death  of  Nicola 
Hugo  de  Basserville,  envoy  from 
the  French  republic  at  Rome,  14th 
January  1/93.  Translated  from 
the  original  Italian  of  Vincenzio 
Monti,  into  English  verse.  With 
.  two  additional  cantos,  and  an  imi- 


B  O  Y 

tntion  of  Gray's  Descent  of  Odin. 
Mr.  Boyd  is  also  author  of  the 
following  dramas  : 

1.  The  Helots.     Tr.  8vo.  1793. 

2.  The  Temple  of  Vesta.  Dr. 
Poem.  Svo.  1793. 

3.  The  Rivals.  Sac.  Dr.  Svo. 
1/93- 

4.  The  Rmjal  M-ssage.  Dr.  P. 
Svo.  1/93.  Dublin,  printed  in  one 
volume. 

Boyer,  Aeel,  was  born  the 
13th  of  June  1667,  at  the  city  of 
Castres,  in  the  Upper  Languedoc. 
He  was  descended  from  a  good  fa- 
mily; his  great-grandfather  and 
grandfather  were  masters  of  the 
riding-school  at  Nismes ;  his  fa- 
ther was  president  of  the  supreme 
court  at  Castres  ;  and  his  mother 
was  Catherine,  the  daughter  of 
Monsieur  Campdomerius,  a  very 
famous  physician. 

Mr.  Boyer  got  his  first  rudiments 
of  learning  from  his  uncle  Camp- 
domerius,  his  mother's  brother,  a 
noted  divine  and  preacher  among 
the  Hugonots,  and  then  went  to 
the  Protestant  school  at  Podio- 
lauris,  where  he  gave  proofs  of  his 
diligence  and  desire  of  learning,  as 
also  of  a  good  genius;  but  he  par- 
ticularly made  such  quick  progress 
in  the  Latin  and  Greek,  as  easily 
to  outstrip  all  his  school-fellows. 

In  the  year  16S5,  when  the  per- 
secution prevailed  against  the  Pro- 
testants in  France,  he  followed  hi. 
uncle  Campdomerius,  by  sea,  to 
Holland  ;  where,  pressed  by  want, 
he  first  entered  the  military  service 
in  the  year  1 687 ;  but  soon,  by  the 
advice  of  his  relations,  returned 
to  his  studies,  and  went  to  the  uni- 
versity of  Franaquer,  in  Friesland, 
where  he  had  the  advantage  of  the 
most  famous  professors,  viz.  Van 
Roeb,  in  philosophy  ;  Vander 
Wagen,  in  divinity  ;  Perizonius, 
in    philology   and    history ;    and 


53 


BOY 

Rheufields,  in  Hebrew  :  here  he 
employed  his  time  wholly  in  study, 
and  made  considerable  improve- 
ment in  geometry,  and  in  other 
parts  of  the  mathematics. 

When  King  James  the  Second 
abdicated  his  crown,  King  Wil- 
liam and  Queen  Mary  were  ad- 
vanced to  the  throne,  viz.  in  the 
year  l6Sg ;  at  which  time  the 
French  Protestants  were  led  with 
hopes  of  returning  agnin  to  their 
own  country  upon  good  terms : 
upon  which  hopes,  and  also  hav- 
ing a  mind  to  see  England  before 
he  returned  home,  he  came  ever 
hither  :  but  his  design  of  return- 
ing to  France  being  disappointed, 
he  fell  into  great  poverty;  where- 
upon, to  gain  an  honest  liveli- 
hood, he  first  of  all  wrote  out  and 
prepared  for  the  press  with  much 
labour,  and  at  a  small  price,  Cam- 
den's Letters  to  and  from  his  Friends, 
from  the  Cotton  manuscripts,  for 
the  use  of  Dr.  Thomas  Smith, 
who  afterwards  published  them, 
and  Camden's  Life  with  them. 

In  the  year  1&Q2,  he  became 
French  and  Latin  tutor  to  Allen 
Bathurst,  Esq.  eldest  son  of  Sir 
Benjamin  Bathurst ;  this  he  under- 
took the  more  willingly,  because 
his  pupil"  s  father  being  a  man  of 
figure,  and  much  in  favour  with 
the  Princess  Anne  of  Denmark 
(afterwards  Queen  of  Great  Bri- 
tain), lie  !*id  hopes  of  obtaining 
tome  preferment  at  court. 

With  this  view,  and  that  he 
might  have  merit  with  the  father, 
he  spared  no  pains  to  accomplish 
the  young  gentleman,  who  was  of 
an  excellent  and  promising  genius ; 
and  therefore,  for  his  pupil's  use, 
Mr.  Boyer  composed  two  com- 
pendious grammars,  one  Latin, 
the  other  French ;  the  former  of 
which  is  still  in  manuscript  un- 
published ;  the  latter  was  printed, 


BOY 


and  dedicated  to  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  at  three  years  old, 
though  more  to  the  author's  ho- 
nour than  profit.  Having  spent 
the  prime  of  his  life  in  the  Bathurst 
family,  he  missed  of  his  expected 
advancement,  occasioned,  as  he 
thought,  principally  by  his  siding 
with  a  different  party  in  the  di- 
visions which  reigned  at  that  time 
in  the  nation  ;  Mr.  Boyer,  with 
all  the  rest  of  his  countrymen  who 
had  fled  hither  for  religion,  being 
more  zealous  for  the  Whig  cause, 
than  perhaps  might  be  thought  to 
become  exiles  at  that  time. 

After  these  misfortunes  (that  he 
might  free  himself  from  the  into- 
lerable yoke  of  teaching  school) 
he  applied  himself  strenuously  to 
master  the  English  tongue;  and  to 
that  purpose  day  and  night  perused 
the  best  books  in  that  language, 
out  of  which  he  collected  what- 
ever was  new  and  worthy  of  ob- 
servation. 

He  died  on  Sunday  the  l(5th  of 
November  1729,  in  a  house  he 
had  built  himself,  in  Five  Fields, 
Chelsea;  and  was  buried  the  l()tU 
of  the  same  month,  in  Chelsea 
churchyard.  He  left  behind  him 
a  widow,  and  a  daughter  about 
three  years  old. 

He  was  for  manyyears  concerned 
in,  and  had  the  principal  manage- 
ment of  a  newspaper,  called  the 
Post  Boy.  He  likewise  published 
a  monthly  work,  entitled,  The 
Political  Stale  of  Great  P.iitain. 
He  wrote  a  Life  of  Queen  Anne,  in 
folio,  which  is  esteemed  a  very- 
good  chronicle  of  that  period  of 
the  English  history.  But  what  has 
rendered  him  the  most  known  and 
established  his  name,  are,  the  very 
complete  Dictionary  and  Grammar 
of  the  French  language  which  ho 
compiled,  and  which  have  been, 
and  still  are,  esteemed  the  very 


54 


BOY 

best  of  their  kind.  Yet  all  these 
works  would  not  authorize  our 
giving  him  a  place  here,  had  he 
not  enlisted  himself  under  the 
standard  of  the  buskin,  by  writ- 
ing, or  rather  translating  from  the 
French  of  M.  de  Racine,  the  tra- 
gedy of  Iphigenia,  which  he  pub- 
lished under  the  title  of, 

Achilles  ;  or,  Iphigenia  in  Aulis. 
T.  -J to.    1/00. 

It  was  performed  without  any 
success,  but  is  far  from  being  a  bad 
play.     Nor  can  there  perhaps  be 
a  stronger  instance  of  the  abil 
of  its  author,  than  success  in  such 
an  attempt  5  since  writing  with  any 
degree  of  correctness  or  elegance, 
even  in  prose,  in  a  language  which 
we  were  not  born  to  the  speaking 
of,  is  an  excellence  not  very  fre- 
quently attained ;  but  to  proceed 
so  far  in  the  perfection  of  it,  as  to 
be  even  surferable  in  poetry,  and 
more   especially    in    that   of    the 
drama,  in  which  the  diction  and 
manner  of  expression  require  a  pe- 
culiar dignity  and  force,  and  in  a 
language  so  difficult  to  attain  the 
perfect  command  of  as  the  English, 
is  what  has  been  scarcely  ever  ac- 
complished, except  in  the  instance 
of  the  gentleman  of  whom  we  are 
now   speaking,    and  a  very   few 
others.     Indeed,  with   regard  to 
the  piece  itself,  it  is  but  justice  to 
acknowledge,  that  notwithstanding 
the  restraint  which  all  trans! 
naturally  undergoes,  and  the  ol 
disadvantages   which  attended   on 
its  author,  the  language,  though 
not  perhaps  so  sublime  or  poetical, 
so  polished  into  poetry,  as  that  of 
some  of  our  native    writers,  yet 
possessed  so  great  a  share  of  cor- 
rectness, and   is   so  entirely   free 
from  any  gallicisms,  or  even  the 
least  vestige  of  the  foreigner  in  it, 
that    it    is    even    in    that    respect 
superior  to  many  of  qui-  modern 


BOY 

tragedies  (especially  those  written 
about  the  tune  in  which  that  ap- 
peared),   and   such   as    no  native 
lishman  at  a  hrst  attempt  need 
be  ashamed  to  confess  himself  the 
author  of.  It  is,  however,  remark- 
able, that  notwithstanding  the  great 
difficulty  that  most  foreigners  find 
in    the    acquiring    our    1; 
this  is  not  the  only  instance  of  t 
having   attained  -it    in   great   per- 
fection;  since  we  meet  with  ano- 
ther gentleman,  a  countryman  of 
our    author,    who    not    only   at- 
tempted, but  even  repeatedly  suc- 
ceeded  in  dramatic  writing  in  it. 
This  gentleman  was  Mr.Motteux, 
of  whom  we  shall  make  a  fuller 
mention  hereafter.  And  this  seems 
a  kind  of  tacit  proof,  not  only  of 
the  native  beauty  of  the  language 
in   itself,  and  its  aptness   for  the 
I   ises    of    the    drama,     which 
could  tempt  even  foreigners  to  es- 
say its  powers,  but  also  that  it  is 
not  of  so  difficult  a  construction, 
nor  of  so  wild  and  ungovernable  a 
nature,  so  hard  to  reduce  within 
the  limits  ofgrammatical  rules,  as 
it  has  been  contended  to  be. 

Boyle,     William,     we    find 
mentioned  as  author  of 

Jagurtha.  P.  1529.  N.P. 
Boyle,  Roger,  Earl  of  Or- 
rery, was  the  younger  brother 
of  Richard,  Earl  of  Burlington  and 
Cork,  and  fifth  son  of  Richard, 
styled  the  Great  Earl  of  Cork. 
He  was  born  April  25,  1021.  and 
■  is  raised  to  the  dignity  of  Baron 
Broghill,  in  I    !.  only 

seven  years  old.  His  education 
was  in  the  college  of  Dublin  ; 
where  he  applied  himself  with  such 
diligence  to  his  books,  and  so 
happily  digested  what  he  gathered 
from  them,  that  he  was  very  soon 
distinguished  as  an  early  and  pro- 
mising genius.  In  1 030,  his  fa- 
ther sg^t  him  to  make  the  tour  cf 


BOY 

France  and  Italy,  in  company  with 
Lord  Kynalmeaky,  his  elder  bro- 
ther.    After  his   return  from  his 
travels,  this  gallant  young  noble- 
man found  all  things  in  great  con- 
fusion in  England,  and  a  war  on 
the   point   of  breaking  out  with 
Scotland  ;   in  which  he  was  invited 
to  serve,  with  marks  of  peculiar 
distinction;  but  his  thoughts  were 
turned  another  way.     As  the  old 
Earl  of  Cork   loved  to  settle  his 
children  very  early  in  the  world, 
a  marriage  was  at  this  time  pro- 
posed for  Lord  Broghill,  with  the 
Lady  Margaret  Howard,  daughter 
to  the  Earl  of  Suffolk,  and  it  was 
quickly  concluded  :    immediately 
after  which  his  Lordship,  with  his 
new- married  Lady,  set  out  for  Ire- 
land, where  they  landed  Oct.  23, 
1041,  the  very  day  on  which  the 
rebellion  broke  out  in  that  kingdom . 
The  family  of  Lord  Cork  were 
instantly  obliged  to  take  arms,  in 
■  order  to  their  own  security,  as  well 
as   that   of  the    public  ;  and    the 
post  assigned  to  Lord  Broghill  was 
the  defence  of  his  father's  castle  of 
Lismore ;    in    which    he  behaved 
with  all  the  spirit  of  a  young  of- 
ficer, and  all  the  discretion  of  an 
old    one.     He    afterwards  distin- 
guished himself  on   many  signal 
occasions ;   in  the  course  of  which 
he  equally  manifested  his  abilities 
for  the  field  and  the  cabinet.     At 
the  death  of  Char'es  I.  however, 
he   was  induced   to  quit  both  his 
estate  and  his  country,  as  ruined 
past  all  hope-.     For  some  time  he 
remained  in  close  retirement :  but 
at  length  Cromwell-,  to  whom  the 
merit  of  Lord    Broghill  was  well 
known,  found  means  to  gain  him 
over  to  that  party,  which  he  had 
hitherto    so    rigorously   opposed  ; 
but  they  were  such  means   as  re- 
flect no  dishonour  on  his  memory. 
The  story  is  told  at  length  in  the 


55 

BOY 

Biographia  Britannica,  under  the 
article  Boyle  ;  to  which  we  refer, 
being  too  circumstantial  for  so  brief 
a  compilation  as  the  present.     By 
his  own  interest  he  now  raised  a 
gallant  troop  of  horse,  consisting 
chiefly  of  gentlemen  attached  to 
him  by  personal  friendship;  which 
corps    was  soon    increased    to    a 
complete  regiment  of  1500  men. 
These  he  led  into  the  field  against 
the  Irish  rebels ;  and  was  speedily 
joined  by  Cromwell,  who  placed 
the  highest  confidence  in  his  new 
ally ;  and  found  him  of  the  greatest 
consequence  to  the  interest  of  the 
commonwealth.       Among    other 
considerable  exploits  performed  by 
Lord  Broghill,  his  victory  at  Mac- 
croom  deserves  to  be  particularly 
mentioned ;     where,     with    2000 
horse    and  dragoons,     he    briskly 
attacked  above  5000  of  the  rebels, 
and   totally  defeated    them.      He 
afterwards  relieved  Cromwell  him- 
self, at  Clonmell,  where  that  great 
commander  happened   to   be    so 
dangerously  situated,   that  he  con- 
fessed nothing  but  the  seasonable 
relief  afforded  him  by  Lord  Brog- 
hill could  have  saved  him  from 
destruction.     He  likewise  worsted 
Lord  Muskerry,  who  came  against 
him  with  an  army  raised   by  the 
Pope's  nuncio,    and   which   con- 
sisted of  three  times  the  number  of 
Lord  Broghill's  forces,  besides  the 
advantage  of  being  well  officered  by 
veteran  commanders  from  Spain. 

When  Cromwell  became  Pro- 
tector, be  sent  for  Lord  Broghill, 
merely  to  take  his  advice,  occa- 
sionally. And  we  are  told,  that 
not  long  after  his  coming  to  Eng- 
land, he  formed  a  project  for  en- 
gaging Cromwell  to  restore  the  old 
constitution.  The  basis  of  the 
scheme  was  to  be  a  match  be- 
tween the  King  (Charles  II.)  and 
the  Protector's  daughter,  As  his 
z  4 


56 
BOY 
Lordship  maintained  a  secret  cor- 
respondence with  the  exiled  mo- 
narch and  his  friends,  it  is  imagin- 
ed he  was,  beforehand,  pretty 
sure  that  Charles  was  not  averse  to 
the  scheme,  or  he  would  not  have 
ventured  to  propose  it  seriously  to 
Cromwell:  who,  at  first,  seemed 
to  think  it  not  unfeasible.  He 
soon  changed  his  mind,  however, 
and  told  Broghill,  that  he  thought 
the  project  impracticable ;  for, 
said  he,  "  Charles  can  never  for- 
*'  give  me  the  death  of  his  father." 
In  fine,  this  business  came  to  no- 
thing, although  his  Lordship  had 
engaged  Cromwell's  wife  and 
daughter  in  the  scheme ;  but  he 
never  durst  let  the  Protector  know 
that  he  had  previously  treated  with 
Charles  about  it. 

On  the  death  of  the  Protector, 
Lord  Broghill  continued  firmly  at- 
tached to  his  son  Richard,  till  he 
saw  that  the  honesty  and  good- 
nature of  that  worthy  man  would 
infallibly  render  him  a  prey  to  his 
many  enemies :  he  did  not  think  it 
advisable  to  sink  with  a  man  he 
could  not  save.  The  dark  clouds 
of  anarchy  seemed  now  to  be 
hovering  over  the  British  island  : 
Lord  Broghill  saw  the  storm  ga- 
thering, and  he  deemed  it  prudent 
to  retire  to  his  command  in  Ire- 
land, where  he  shortly  after  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  things 
take  a  turn  extremely  favourable 
to  the  design  he  had  long  been  a 
well-wisher  to — that  of  the  King's 
restoration.  In  this  gr*-at  event, 
Lord  Broghill  was  not  a  little  in- 
strumental ;  and,  in  consideration 
of  his  eminent  services  in  this  re- 
spect, Charles  created  him  Earl  of 
Orrery,  by  letters  patent,  bearing 
date  Sept.  5,  J  660.  He  was  soon 
after  made  one  of  the  lords  justices 
ofTreland;  and  his  conduct,  while 
at  the  head  of  affairs  in  that  king- 


BOY 
,   was  such,   as  greatly  added 
to  die  general  esteem  in  which  his 
character  was  before  held. 

His  Lo;\!  five  and  free 

course  of  life,  at  length,  brought 
upon  him  some  diseases' and  in- 
firmities, which  gave  him  pain  and 
-iness ;  and  a  fever,  which  fell 
into  his  feet,  joined  to  the  gout, 
with  which  he  was  often  afflicted, 
abated  much  of  that  vigour  which 
he  had  shown  in  the  early  part  of 
his  life  ;  but  his  industry  and  ap- 
plication were  still  the  same,  and 
bent  to  the  same  purpose> ;  as  ap- 
pears from  his  Letters,  which 
show  at  once  a  capacity  and  an 
attention  to  business  which  do  ho- 
nour to  that  age,  and  may  serve  as 
an  example  to  this. 

Notwithstanding  his  infirmities 
on  the  King's  desiring  to  see  his 
Lordship  in  England,  he  went  over 
in  1665.  He  found  the  court  in 
some  disorder ;  his  Majesty  was 
on  the  point  of  removing  the 
Earl  of  Clarendon,  lord  high 
chancellor  ;  and  there  was  also  a 
great  misunderstanding  between 
the  royal  brothers.  Lord  Orrery 
undertook  to  reconcile  the  King 
with  the  Duke  of  York  ;  which 
he  effected,  by  prevailing  on  the 
latter  to  ask  his  Majesty's  pardon 
for  some  steps  he  had  taken  in 
support  of  the  chancellor. 

On  his  return  to  Ireland,  he 
found  himself  called  to  a  new  scene 
of  action.  The  Dutch  war  was 
then  in  its  height;  and  the  Ft  -n<  h, 
in  confederacy  with  the  Hollan- 
ders, were  endeavouring  to  stir  up 
the  ashes  of  rebellion  in  Ireland. 
The  Duke  de Beaufort,  admiral  of 
France,  had  formed  a  scheme  for 
a  descent  upon  that  island ;  but 
this  was  rendered  abortive  by  the 
extraordinary  diligence,  military 
skill,  and  prudent  measures  ot 
Lord  Orrery. 


57 


BOY 

Bat,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  la- 
bours, a  dispute  arose,  founded  on 
a  mutual  jealousy  of  each  other's 
greatness,  betwixt  him  and  his  old 
friend  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  then 
Lord  Lieutenant ;  the  bad  effects 
of  which  were  soon  felt  by  both 
the  disputants ;  who  resorted  to 
England,  to  defend  their  respec- 
tive interests  and  pretensions  j 
both  having  been  attacked  by  se- 
cret enemies,  who  suggested  many 
things  to  their  prejudice.  This 
quarrel,  though  of  a  private  be- 
ginning, became  at  last  of  a  pub- 
lic nature  ;  and,  producing  first  an 
attempt  to  frame  an  impeachment 
against  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  oc- 
casioned in  the  end,  by  way  of  re- 
venge, an  actual  impeachment  of 
the  Earl  of  Orrery.  He  defended 
himself  so  well,  however,  against 
a  charge  of  high  crimes,  and  even 
of  treason  itself,  that  the  prosecu- 
tion came  to  nothing.  He  never- 
theless lost  his  public  employ- 
ments, but  not  the  King's  favour; 
he  still  came  frequently  to  court, 
and  sometimes  to  council.  After 
this  revolution  in  his  affairs,  he 
made  sev  ;ral  voyages  to  and  from 
Ireland ;  was  often  consulted  by  his 
Majesty  on  matters  of  the  utmost 
consequence;  and,  on  all  occa- 
sions, gave  his  opinion  and  advice 
with  the  freedom  of  an  honest 
plain-dealing  man,  and  a  sincere 
friend  ;  which  the  King  always 
found  him,  and  respected  him  ac- 
cordingly. 

In  ld/S,  being  attacked  more 
cruelly  than  ever  bv  his  old  enemy 
the  gout,  he  made  his  last  voyage 
to  England,  for  advice  in  the  me- 
dical way.  But  his  disorder  was 
beyond  the  power  of  medicine ; 
and  having,  in  his  last  illness,  given 
the  strongest  proofs  of  Christian 
patience,  manly  courage,  and  ra- 
tional fortitude,   he  breathed   bis. 


BOY 

last  on  the  ltith  of  October  16/Q, 
in  the  09th  year  of  his  age. 

As  to  the  literary  character  of 
this  amiable  and  worthy  nobleman, 
it  may  be  given  in  few  words. 
His  wit  was  manly,  pregnant,  and 
solid ;  the  early  blossoms  of  it  were 
fair,  but  not  fairer  than  the  fruit. 
He  wrote  several  political  tracts 
and  some  ingenious  poems ;  but 
the  pieces  which  particularly  en- 
title him  to  a  place  in  this  collec- 
tion are  the  following  plays,  viz. 

1.  Mustapha.    T.  fo.  ldGS. 

2.  Hennj  the  Fifth.  T.fo.  IO72. 

3.  The  Black  Prince.  T.  fo. 
lGiig. 

4.  Tryphon.     T.    fo.  1669. 

5.  Mr.  A/tj/iony.  Com.  4to, 
1690. 

6.  Guzman.   C.  fo.  1653. 

7.  Herod.     T.   fo.    I69L 

8.  Altemira.    T.  1702. 

All  these  (except  Mr.  Anthony) 
were  collected  and  published  in 
2  vols.  8vo.  1739,  with  the  au- 
thor's portrait  prefixed.  These 
volumes  also  include  his  grandson's 
comedy  ef  As  you  find.  It,  men- 
tioned under  the  next  article. 

Boyle,  Charles,  Eaku.  o? 
Orrery.  This  nobleman  was 
second  son  of  Roger,  the  second 
Earl  of  Orrery,  by  Lady  Mary 
Sackville,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of 
Dorset.  He  was  born  in  August 
1676,  at  Chelsea,  and  at  the  age 
of  fifteen,  16QO,  was  entered  as  a 
nobleman  of  Christ  Church,  in 
Oxford,  under  the  tuition  of  Dr. 
Atterbury  and  Dr.  Freind.  His 
application  to  study  was  vigorous 
and  constant,  and  his  passion  for 
letters  so  steady  and  unremitting 
that  his  friends  were  apprehensive 
his  health  would  be  injured  by  too 
close  an  attention  to  his  literary 
pursuits.  The  first  work  that  he 
printed  was  the  Life  if  Lysa/ider, 
translated,  f'<W  Plutarch,    which. 


58 


BOY 

gave  Dr.  Aldrich  so  good  an  opi- 
nion of  him,  that  he  intrusted  to 
his  care  the  new  edition  of  the 
Epistles  of  Phalaris,  then  about  to 
be  printed  at  Oxford.  This  book 
became  accidentally  the  cause  of  a 
very  long  and  furious  dispute  be- 
tween Dr.  Ber.tley  and  Mr.  Boyle, 
and  their  several  adherents.  It 
ended  at  that  time  greatly  to  the 
advantage  of  the  latter;  but  poste- 
rity has  not  ratified  the  verdict  of 
their  contemporaries,  it  being  now 
the  general  opinion  that  Dr.  Bent- 
ley  supported  his  hypothesis  with 
more  learning,  wit,  and  argument, 
than  his  antagonist.  On  leaving 
the  university,  Mr.  Boyle  was 
chosen  member  for  the  town  of 
Huntingdon ;  and  his  elder  bro- 
ther Lionel,  Earl  of  Orrery,  dying 
on  the  23d  of  August  1/03,  with- 
out issue,  he  succeeded  to  that 
title.  Entering  into  the  service  of 
the  Queen,  he  had  a  regiment 
given  him,  at  the  head  of  whi<  h 
he  distinguished  himself  in  a  very 
gallant  manner.  On  the  13ih  of 
October  1/05,  he  was  elected  one 
of  the  knights  companions  of  the 
Thistle.  In  1709,  he  was  raised 
to  the  rank  of  a  major-general, 
and  sworn  of  the  privy  council. 
He  was  afterwards  appointed  en- 
voy to  the  States  of  Brabant  and 
Flanders  ;  and  on  the  10th  of 
September  1712,  was  created  an 
English  peer.  At  the  accession  of 
George  I.  he  was  made  lord  of 
the  bed-chamber;  and  on  the  3d 
of  December  1/14,  was  consti- 
tuted lord  lieutenant  of  Somerset- 
shire, and  seemed  to  enjoy  the 
confidence  of  his  Sovereign.  In 
1716,  however,  he  fell  under  the 
displeasure  of  the  court;  his  regi- 
ment was  taken  from  him,  and 
he  resigned  the  post  of  lord  of  the 
bed-chamber.  At  the  time  of 
Layer's  plot,  in  the  year  11'Z1\  he 


BRA 

was  taken  into  custody,  and  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower  ;  but  nothing 
being  discovered  against  him,  he 
was  released  after  six  months'  im- 
prisonment. This  accident  is  sup- 
posed to  have  much  affected  him; 
and  he  lived  only  to  the  2Sth  of 
Aug.  1731,  on  which  day  he  died, 
in  the  fifty-sixth  year  of  his  age. 

He  was  the  author  of  one  piay, 
called 

As  you  find  It.  C.  4to.  1703; 
Svo.   1739. 

Boyle,  Murrough,  Lobd 
Viscount  Blessington.  This 
nobleman  was  son  of  Dr.  Michael 
Boyle,  archbishop  of  Armagh,  and 
lord  chancellor  of  Ireland,  whodied 
in  the  year  1702,  at  the  great  age 
of .93.  He  was  a  person,  however, 
whose  genius  and  abilities  did  no 
credit  to  the  name  of  Boyle.  He 
wrote  one  play,  which,  from  the 
specimen  we  have  seen  of  it,  was  a 
truly  contemptible  one,  and  died 
Dec.  25,  1/12.  The  name  of  his 
play  was, 

The  Lost  Princess.     T. 

Brady,  Dit.  Nicholas,  was 
descended  from  Hugh  Brady,  the 
first  Protestant  bishop  of  Meath. 
He  was  the  son  of  Major  Nicholas 
Brady,  and  was  born  ai  Eandon, 
in  the  county  of  Cork,  about  the 
year  1659.  At  the  age  of  twelve 
years,  he  went  to  Westminster 
School,  from  whence  he  was  elected 
a  king's  scholar  of  Christ  Church, 
Oxford.  Having  stayed  there  four 
years,  he  removed  to  Dublin,  and 
took  the  degree  of  master  of  arts, 
but  had  that  of  doctor  of  divinity 
presented  to  him  by  the  same  uni- 
versity, while  he  resided  in  Eng- 
land. His  first  preferment  was  to 
a  prebend  in  St.  Finbarr's  cathe- 
dral, and  to  the  parish  of  Kilnag- 
lory,  in  the  county  of  Cork.  In 
16.90,  being  in  London,  he  was 
elected  minister  of  St.  Catherine 


sg 


E  R  A 

Cree  church,  and  lecturer  of  St. 
iiaei's  5  after  which  he  was 
i  erred  to  the  rectory  of  Clap- 
ham,  and  the  living  of  Richmond, 
both  in  the  county  of  Surry.  He 
had  been  chaplain  to  King  Wil- 
liam and  Queen  Alary,  and  also  to 
Queen  Anne,  and  was  at  the  time 
of  his  death,  which  happened  on 
the  20th  of  May  1726,  chaplain 
to  the  Princess  of  Wales,  after- 
wards Queen  Caroline.  About  the 
time  of  his  settlement  in  London, 
he  joined  with  Tate  in  a  new  ver- 
sion of  the  Psalms.  He  also  trans- 
lated The  ALnM  of  Virgil,  and 
published  several  volumes  of  Ser- 
mons, and  one  play,  called 

The  Rape  or,  The  Innocent 
Jmposto  ■  •      T.  4to.    IO92. 

Brai  1  hwait'e,  Richard,  was 
the  second  son  of  Ihomas  Braith- 
waite,  of  Warebp,  near  Appleby, 
in  Westmorland,  the  son  and  heir 
of  Thomas  Braithwaite,  of  Barn- 
side,  who  was  son  of  Richard 
Braithwaite,  of  Ambleside,  in  tke 
barony  of  Kendal.  He  was  bcrn 
in  the  year  1588,  and,  at  the  age 
of  sixteen  years,  became  a  com- 
moner of  Oriel  College,  Oxford, 
being  matriculated  as  a  gentle- 
man's son,  and  a  native  of  West- 
morland. While  he  continued  in 
that  house,  which  was  at  least 
three  years,  "  he  avoided  (Says 
"  Wood)  as  much  as  he  could 
"  the  rough  paths  of  logic  and 
"  philosophy,  and  traced  those 
"  smooth  ones  of  poetry  and  Ro- 
"  man  history,  in  which  at  length 
"  he  did  excel."  He  afterwards 
removed  to  Cambridge,  and  then 
retired  to  the  North,  where  his 
father  bestowed  on  him  an  estate 
at  Barnside  before  mentioned.  In 
this  retreat  he  lived  many  years, 
became  captain  of  a  foot  com- 
pany in  the  trained  bands,  a  de- 
puty lieutenant  in  the  county  of 


B  II  A 

Westmorland,  and  a  justice  cf 
peace.  He  married  a  second  wife 
in  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  and 
went  to  reside  at  Anpleton,  near 
Richmond,  in  Yorkshire;  where 
he  died  the  4th  of  May  1673,  and 
was  buried  in  the  parish  church  of 
Catterick,  near  that  place. 

He  was  a  voluminous  writer, 
both  in  verse  and  prose,  and 
amongst  other  things  produced  the 
following  dramas : 

1 .  Mercwius  Britannicus ;  or, 
The  English  Intelligencer.  T.  C. 
4to.   10-41. 

2.  Regicidium.  T.  C.  Svo. 
1665. 

Brand,  Hannah.  This  is  a 
lady  of  learning  and  talents,  who 
some  time  vnce  conducted,  with 
success,  a  very  respectable  semi- 
Dary,  for  French  education,  at  Nor- 
wich. She  has  also  appeared  be- 
fore the  public  as  a  dramatist  and 
an  actress.  Ja  the  former  charac- 
ter, she  has  written, 

1.  Adelinda.     C.    8vo.    1798. 

2.  The  Conflict.  Her.  C.'mo. 
17.QS. 

3.  Huniades.     T.  Svo.   l/QS. 

4.  Agmmidar.  T.  N.  P  [This 
was  the  preceding  piece,  altered, 
and  with  the  omission  of  the  cha- 
racter of  Huniades.] 

'^.s,  we  remember  her 
performance  of  Agmunda,  in  her 
own  Huniadcs,  to  have  been 
marked  by  force  and  discrirnina- 
tion  ;  though  with  the  drawbacks 
of  a  provincial  pronunciation,  and 
a  deportment  not  to  be  greatly 
admired.  Mr.  Tate  Wilkinson, 
in  his  Wandering  Patentee,  a 
really  amusing,  though  very  oddly 
written  book,  thus  mentions  this 
lady  : 

<c  On  Tuesday,  Mar.  20  [1794], 
ft  came  forth  Miss  Hannah  Branu, 
"  with  credentials  in  her  hand 
<'  from   Mr,  \VoodfaU.     Perhaps 


00 


BRA 

there  is  not  any  character,  as  a 
romantic  stage-struck  princess, 
possesses  a  more  extraordi- 
nary set  of  contradictory  pas- 
sions, than  the  said  lady,  Miss 
Hannah  Brand.  She  is  very 
sensible,  but  too  learned.  She 
knows  herself  to  be  an  actress 
of  such  sterling  worth,  that 
every  bar  to  her  success  is  cre- 
ated from  the  envy,  I  fear,  of 
Mrs.  Siddons,  and  that  of  all 
the  Kembles ;  and  from  their 
interests,  every  manager  in  the 
kingdom  of  Great  Britain  is  a 
determined  enemy.  She  values 
herself  at  [on]  not  holding  up 
her  train ;  as  her  constant  use 
of  large  drawing-rooms,  and  a 
frequent  habit  of  brilliant  as- 
semblies, prevents  such  trifles 
ever  to  occur  as  necessary.  A 
tolerable  room  looks  very  insig- 
nificant, from  the  always  living 
in  those  of  expanse  as  to  width, 
length,  and  height.  Fielding's 
works  are  not  deserving  the 
perusal ;  they  cannot  be  termed 
poetry ;  but  if  they  are,  it  can 
only  be  admitted  as  of  the 
lowest  kind,  and  as  the  very 
dregs  of  verse  :  no  !  when  she 
has  a  mind  to  be  entertained 
with  works  of  humour,  she  has 
recourse  to  certain  entertain- 
ment in  the  Latin  authors,  in 
their  original  purity  of  language ; 
it  is  there  only  that  she  finds 
ample  field  for  comic  entertain- 
ment. No  sensible  person  sure- 
ly ever  sat  to  see  a  farce  ;  it  was 
not  only  a  loSs  of  time,  but  de- 
grading to  taste ;  she  never  mur- 
dered time  in  that  manner  but 
once,  and  that  was  to  see  My 
Grandmother  at  York,  to  gratify 
her  curiosity  as  a  compliment  to 
Mrs.  John  Wilkinson. 
"  My  son  casually  asking  her 
what  farce  she  would  approve 
for  her  benefit,  after  a  solemn 


BRA 

grand  pause,  she  said,  '  Why, 
Sir,  should  I  strike  the  anvil  of 
my  brain,  when  there  is  nothing 
to  hammer  out  ?'  She  sent  me 
a  note  one  morning,  that  con- 
tained rather,  I  thought,  an  ab- 
surd expression  as  to  correctness, 
which  I  mentioned  to  her ;  whei> 
she  erected  her  chest  with  infi- 
nite majesty,  and  said,  '  Mr. 
Wil-kin-son,  had  I  wrote  that 
note  to  Mrs.  Wil-kin-son,  I  had 
not  been  so  precisely  exact  as  to 
grammatical  points ;  but  when 
I  considered  that  I  was  address- 
ing a  classical  gentleman,  I 
judged  it  obviously  necessary  to 
be  careful  of  any  unguarded 
slip  ;  for  if  you  would  atten- 
tively reperuse  the  note,  you 
will  quickly  perceive  that  the 
line  alluded  to  was  appertaining 
to  the  plural  not  the  singular 
number.'  I  could  not  refrain 
a  burst  of  immoderate  laughter; 
but,  as  soon  as  my  breath  re- 
covered, and  gave  me  leave, 
with  resumed  gravity,  1  assured 
her,  the  gods  had  neither  made 
me  poetical  nor  learnedly  clas- 
sical. '  Well,'  says  Mrs.  Han- 
nah, f  it  is  wonderful  not  to 
converse  with  the  ancients,  the 
Italians,  French,  Latin,  and  the 
Greek  authors,  all  which  I  can 
read,  perfectly  understand,  and 
speak  fluently :'  when  imme- 
diately she  could  not  instantly 
recollect  whether  a  word  she 
had  just  then  pronounced  was 
from  any  expression  of  the 
Greeks  or  the  Romans;  and 
quoted  a  line  of  each  to  ascertain 
tc  which  it  belonged;  the  which 
instantly  reminded  me  of  the 
Mock  Doctor,  who  says, 
"  '  What,  Sir,  don't  you  under- 
stand Latin  ? 

"  O  dear  Sir,  no,  not  in   the 
least. 
"  Gregory.  Propria  quae  maubu,s. 


61 

BRA 

w  tribuuntur,masculadicas,ut  sunt 
<(  divorum,  Mars,  Bacchus,  Apol- 
"  lo,  virorum. 

44  Sir  Simon.    Ah  !    why  did  I 
**  neglect  my  studies  ?' 

"  A  lady  of  rank  assured  me, 
*  that  she  sat  in  a  box  where  Mrs. 
"  Hannah  was  in  the  row  behind, 
"  at  the  Opera-house  or  the  Play- 
44  house,  I  do  not  recollect  which, 
"  where  she  was  accoutred  in  an 
44  old-fashioned  jacket,  with  deep 
"  flaps  (as  all  York  can  remember, 
"  and  testify  the  said  remarkable 
"  habit),  with  a  tremendous  long 
"  bosom-frill, over  which  the  right 
44  hand  was  plunged,  and  in  a 
44  fixed  attitude  she  continued  pen- 
"  sively  superior  from  the  begin* 
44  nin"-  of  the  eveninsr's  entertain- 
"  ment  to  the  finale.  She  seldom 
"  went  or  came  from  the  theatre 
"  at  York  but  in  a  chair,  so  dread- 
"  fully  fearful  was  she  in  that 
"  quiet  city  of  the  insulter,  man. 
'*  Her  dresses  were  more  than 
"  good,  and  her  linen  fine ;  they 
"  would  not  have  disgraced  a 
"  drawing  -  room  on  the  royal 
"  birth-day )  but  they  were  all  ro- 
"  mantic ;  and,  either  in  the  street 
"  or  the  room,  she  wanted  only 
"  a  spear  and  shield,  to  have  awed 
"  the  wondering  beholders  with 
"  her  grand  and  majestic  portly 
"  bearing. 

"  It  is  no  more  extraordinary 
"  than  true,  that  Miss  Brand's 
*'  dialect  was  as  provincial,  as  if 
"  her  education  had  been  utterly 
"  neglected  :  for  instance  (one  as 
44  good  as  a  hundred),  I  might 
"  receive  your  whole  ustate,  in- 
"  stead  of  estate,  &c. ;  arkangel, 
44  archangel,  as  the  arch  of  a 
44  bridge.  Her  dresses  on  the 
"  stage  I  have  mentioned  as  ele- 
**  gantj  but  all  the  effect  was  lost, 
"  owing  to  her  wearing  stays  not 
"  of  the  new  but  the  old  fashion, 


BRA 

"  which  barriers  defended  her 
"  charms  from  all  unhallowed 
44  eyes :  for,  at  present,  all  be- 
"  holders  need  not  want  a  peep, 
"  but  look  full,  and  be  perfectly 
44  satisfied  whether  the  view  will 
"  cause  many  bidders.  But  Han- 
"  nah  Brand  would  not  unveil 
"  her  beauties  even  to  the  chaste 
"  Diana ;  therefore  she,  with  well- 
<e  bound  bone,  forbid  all  access. 
"  Her  breast-works,  and  all  her 
"  works,  were  well  defended 
"  against  all  assailants ;  she  might 
"  enter  the  lists  with  a  sisterhood 
"  of  nuns,  or  a  Methodists'  love- 
"  feast,  fearless  and  undismayed. 
'f**Troy  was  not  more  impregnable 
"  within  her  walls,  her  bulwarks, 
(<  and  her  gates  of  brass,  than  was 
"  the  fearless  Hannah  ;  unless  in- 
"  deed  that  fair  heroine  was  as- 
(e  sailed  with  lavish  praises  on  he* 
"  play  or  her  acting,  and  then  the 
"  gods  (to  whom  she  would  ap- 
"  peal)  have  mercy  on  her  :  for 
"  on  that  theme  she  would  be  as 
"  vulnerable  as  the  invulnerable 
"  Prince  Achilles  was  in  his  heel. 
"■  It  is  no  more  than  strictly  true, 
<e  when  I  aver,  that  her  generosity 
"  was  boundless ;  as  she  would 
"  (like  Sheva  the  Jew)  stint  her 
"  appetite  to  pamper  her  affec- 
"  tions,  and  live  on  a  crust  to 
"  gratify  others,  to  whom  she 
"  thought  herself  in  the  least 
"  obliged. 

"  I  know  two  or  three  remark* 
"  able,  as  unnecessary,  instances. 
"  Her  first  appearance  in  Lady 
"  Townly,  so  far  from  being  well 
"  received,  met  with  rude  marks 
"  of  disgustful  behaviour,  and  that 
"  from  ladies,  who  did  not  add  by 
"  such  demeanour  addition  to  their 
"  politeness  or  good  understand- 
"  ing ;  but  I  must  grant  that 
"  Hannah's  Lady  Townly  was  too 
44  formal  for  the  school  of  gaiety 


62 


BRA 
te  in  l/,p4.  Her  play  of ' Agmunda 
"  was  acted  the  last  night  in  the 
"season,  May  21,  1/9-4.  So  te- 
"  nacious  was  she  of  such  her 
"  invaluable  treasure  being  pun- 
"  Joined,  that  she  would  not  suf- 
"  fer  the  original  Drury  Lane  ma- 
"  nuscript  to  be  in  the  dangerous 
"  prompter's  hands,  but  wrote  out 
"  an  entire  copy  herself,  actually 
"  without  one  line  of  her  own 
"  part  being  inserted,  as  a  cert." hi 
"safeguard  to  her  property;  for 
"  on  that  she  constantly  placed  a 
"  steady  hand.  At  the  end  of  an 
"  act  she  found  the  altar-table  ttfo 
"  high,  and  exclaimed,  '  If  the 
**  theatre  were  to  fall  in  one 
"  momentous  crush,  I  would  not 
"  begine  unless  it  was  more  ad- 
"vancedj'  and  with  great  com- 
"  posure,  at  the  end  of  the  fourth 
"  act,  with  the  most  dignified  so- 
"  lemuity,  assured  Mr.  Earby  (the 
**  prompter),  *  that  she  would  not 
"  proceed  in  her  business  un- 
"  less  he  first  assured  her  she 
"  might  depend  upon  two  flou- 
"  rishes  previous  to  her  en- 
"  trance.'  The  play  ended  as  a 
"  comic,  not  as  the  tale  of  woe ; 
"  and  certainly,  as  a  tragedy,  nei- 
"  ther  was,  is,  nor  ever  will  be, 
"  able  to  retain  a  place  on  the 
"  boards.  I  cannot  omit  noticing, 
"  that,  at  the  rehearsal,  after  a 
"  pause  of  considerable  length, 
"  when  all  were  '  in  amazement 
"  lost,'  she  turned  profoundly 
"  round,  and,  in  blank-verse  tone, 
**  said,  '  Observe,  Mr.  Warren, 
«  I  have  stopped  thus  long,  that 
"  you  may  remember,  at  night, 
"  all  this  length  of  time  I  shall  be 
"  weeping.' 

"  She  engaged,  after  that  ex- 
'*  ploit,  the  last  summer  at  Liver- 
"  pool,  where  she  treated  the  au- 
"  dience  with  Calista,  with  much 
"  the  same  success,  I  believe,  as 


BRA 
"  her  tragedy  met  with  at  York  ; 
"  for  which  I  am  told  she  ushered 
"  a  complaining  publication  to  the 
"  inhabitants  of  Liverpool,  relating 
"  her  injured  fame  [as]  not  only 
"  prejudiced  by  Mr.  Aickin,  but 
"  by  a  combination  of  enemies. 

"  Her  performance  at  York  by 
"  no  means  merited  the  sarcastic 
"  manner  in  which  she  was  treat- 
"  ed  ;  the  which,  though  certainly 
"  unkind  as  ungenerous,  could 
"  only  be  palliated  by  the  uncom- 
"  mon  stiffness  of  deportment  that 
"  the  Lady  Townly  by  custom  had 
"  habituated  herself  to.  Indeed, 
"  the  sckoul  formality  she  pos- 
•"  sesses,  I  may  almost  say,  from 
"  instinct. 

"  One  day,  rapping  at  my  room 
"door,  'Who's  there?'  says  I  : 
"  to  which  she  replied,  as  awfully 
"  as  the  Ghost  in  Hamlet,  '  It  is 
"  Hannah  Brand.'  Now,  take  this 
"  lady  from  her  tragedy  and  her 
"  acting,  and  she  possesses  many 
"  good,  ay  shining,  qualities ;  that 
"  is,  she  would  rather  give  than 
'"  take,  and  does  not  know  suffi- 
"  ciently  how  to  content  her  mind 
"  with  making  more  than  ample 
"  restitution  for  any  received  civi- 
"  lities.  To  that  generosity  of 
"  temper  she  unites  a  good  under- 
"  standing,  and  is  certainly  worthy 
"  of  much  esteem  as  to  her  private 
"  character." 

Brandon,  Samuel.  This  au- 
thor wrote  about  the  latter  part  of 
Queen  Elizabeth's  reign  ;  but  as 
to  what  profession  he  was  of,  or 
what  rank  he  held  in  life,  we  have 
not  been  able  to  procure  any  in- 
formation. He  appears,  how- 
ever, to  have  been  possessed  of  no 
small  share  of  vanity  and  self-suf- 
ficiency, from  the  Italian  verse  he 
has  subjoined  to  the  only  dramatic 
piece  he  wrote,  and  which,  not- 
withstanding the  high  opinion  he. 


G3 


BRE 

and  perhaps  some  of  his  partial 
friends,  might  entertain  of  it,  is 
now  entirely  forgotten,  viz. 

"  IS  Aequo,  non  temo  dell'  eterno  Oblio," 

which  may  thus  be  englished  : 

"  Oblivion's  powers  I  have  no  cause  to 

fear  ; 
"  My  works   her    waves   eternally  shall 

spare." 

The  title  of  the  play,  of  which 
he  thus  defies  either  time,  eternity, 
or  oblivion,  to  erase  the  remem- 
brance, is, 

The  Firtuous  Octavia.  T.  C. 
12mo.  15i)8. 

Brandon,  Isaac.  This  gentle- 
man is  of  a  respectable  commercial 
family  in  the  city  of  London ;  of  the 
Jewish  persuasion,  we  believe  5 
and,  besides  being  the  author  of 
some  Frag  me  nts  after  Sterne,  has 
produced  the  following  dramatic 
piece : 

Kais.    Op.    Svo.  1S03. 

Brenax,  Mr.  was  a  limner  by 
profession,  and  author  of  an  un- 
published comedy  called  The  Law- 
suit, which  Mr.  Edmund  Burke 
once  intended  to  publish  by  sub- 
scription, but  afterwards  relin- 
quished the  design. 

Mr.  Brenan  published,  at  Dub- 
lin, one  piece  called 

The  Painter's  Breakfast.  D.  S. 
12mo.  1756'. 

Brereton, Thomas.  This  gen- 
tleman was  the  son  of  Major  Tho- 
mas Brereton,  of  the  Queen's 
dragoons,  in  the  reign  of  King 
William  III.  and  was  lineally  de- 
scended, by  a  younger  branch,  from 
the  very  ancient  and  noble  family 
of  the  Breretons,  of  Brereton  in 
Cheshire.  He  was  born  about 
169O,  and  received  the  rudi- 
ments of  learning  at  the  free- 
school  at  Chester,  from  which  he 
was  first  removed  to  a  boarding- 
school  in  the  same  city,  kept  by 
Mr.  Denni.-,  a  French   refu- 


B  R  E 

gee,   and  afterwards   to  Brazen- 
Nose  College  in  Oxford,  of  which 
he   continued  a   member   several 
years,    and   took   the    degree    of 
bachelor  of  arts.     On   the  death 
of  his  father  he  was  left  in  pos- 
session of  a  considerable  fortune  in 
money  ;  but  being  too  young,  and 
in  the  management  of  guardians, 
and    his   mother  having   married 
again,    there  was   not  such   care 
taken  of   his   education  as   there 
should  have  been.     In   this   neg- 
lected state  he  soon  ran   out   the 
greater  part  of  his  fortune.     He 
went  over  for  a  short  time  to  Paris ; 
and,    at   his   return,    the  Earl  of 
Stair,  then  ambassador  there,  re- 
commended him,  in  the  strongest 
manner,  to  the  Duke  of  Marlbo- 
rough, as  the  son  of  one  who  had 
served  under  him  with   honour; 
and  his  Grace  seemed  determined 
to   provide   for   him,    and  would 
probably  have  done  so,  if  his  ill 
health  had  not  prevented  it.     la 
a  short  time  his  affairs  became  so 
deranged,  that,    about    IJ'll,   his 
wife    and    family    were    obliged, 
from  principles  of  economy,  to  re- 
tire into  Wales.     Soon  afterwards 
the  Earl  of  Sunderland  gave  him  a 
post  belonging  to  the  Customs  at 
Park  Gate,   near  Chester.     That 
nobleman,  also,  promised   to   ad- 
vance him,  on  the  first  proper  va- 
cancy ;   but  this  promise  he    did 
not   live    to   claim ;    for,    in    the 
month  of  February  1/22,  he  was 
drowned  in  too  adventurously  cross- 
ing the  water  of  Saitney,  when 
the  tide  was  coming  in.     His  body 
was  afterwards  found,  and  decent- 
ly   interred   in   Shotwiek   chapel, 
belonging    to   Thomas    Brereton, 
Esq.  representative  for  Liverpool, 
his  intimate  friend  and  relation,  in 
whose  service  he  may  be  said  lo 
have  lost  his  life  ;  for  this  gentle- 
man, being  at  that  time  concerned 


64 

ERE  BRE 

in  an  election  with  a  very  power-  name;  and  the  other  a  comedy, 

tul  antagonist,  our  author,  out  of  to  which  he  intended  to  have  given 

his  zeal   for  his   friend,  wrote  a  the  title  of, 

kind  oflibel  against  the  gentleman,  4.  The  Oxford  Ladies ;   or.  The 

in  such  terms  as  were  thought  to  KoLleman. 

bring  the  writer  within  the  power  Neither  of  these,  however,  did 

of  the  law.     On  this  he  was  ad-  he  live  to  finish, 

vised  to  abscond,  to  avoid  prose-  Bketon,    Nicholas,    was    a 

cution  ;  and,  by  making  too  much  multifarious    author,    as    may   be 

haste  to  get  beyond  the  knowledge  seen   in   Mr.  Ritson's    Biographia 

of  his  pursuers,  lost  his  life.     He  Poetica,  p.  138.     He  is  supposed 

was,  says  one  who  knew  him,  an  to  be  the  person  with  the  same 

unhappy  proof  of  the  prejudice  of  names,  who  died  June  22,  1024, 

an  indulgent  education.     He  used  and    was    buried    at   Norton,  in 

to  say,  he  never  in    his    life   re-  Northamptonshire.     To  this  gen- 

membered  being  contradicted.  His  tleman  have  both  Jacob  andGildon 

parts  were  naturally  good,  but  en-  attributed  the   honour  of  author- 

tirely  neglected.     He  was  positive  ship  in  regard  to  an  old  dramatic 

and  passionate,  but  generous  to  a  piece  entitled 

fault,  and  a  very  indulgent  father.  An  Old  Man's  Lesson,  and  A 

He  was  remarkable  for  his  skill  in  Young  Man's  Love,  Int.  4to.  1605; 

swimming  beyond  most  men,  on  but  one  would  be  apt  to  imagine 

which  he  relied  too  much,  and  to  they  neither  of  them  had  seen  the 

which  he  owed  his  death ;  as  he  piece,  and  that  the  latter  had  im- 

was  entreated  by  people  on    the  plicitly  copied  the  error  broached 

shore  not  to  quit  his  horse,  which  by  the  former,  since  in  the  preface 

he  would  do,  and  so  perished  at  Mr.  Breton  acknowledges  himself 

the  age  of  about  thirty-two.  to  have  been  only  the  editor  of  this 

He  left  several  children,  and  a  interlude,  nay,  even  declares  that 
wife  to  whom  he  was  married  in  he  is  \\  holly  ignorant  who  the  au- 
1/11.  She  died  Aug.  J,  1/40;  thor  was.  As  such,  however,  we 
and,  after  her  death,  a  volume  of  could  not  with  propriety  avoid  in- 
ner poems  and  letters  was  pub-  serting  his  name  in  this  place ; 
lished  in  quarto  by  subscription.  since  to  him  the  world  is  at  least 

The  dramatic  pieces  which  he  obliged  for  the  knowledge  of  what- 

lived  to  finish  were  only  two,  and  ever  share  of  merit  may  be  found 

were  never  acted,  viz.  in  the  piece. 

1.  Esther.     T.     12mo.  \J\5.  Beeval,  John  Durant,   was 


2.  Sir  John  Oldcastle.     Trag. 

The  first  is  little  more  than  a 

translation  of  the  Esther  of  Racine ; 


the  son  of  Francis  Durant  de  Bre- 
val,  D.  D.  prebendary  of  West- 
minster.    He    was    educated    at 


and  the  last  a  close  imitation  of  the  Westminster  School,  to  which  he 
Poliencte  of  Corneille ;  and  indeed  wasadmittedin  l6Q3  ;  from  whence 
neither  of  them  has  any  great  he  went  to  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
share  of  merit  in  the  execution,  bridge,  in  l697>  where  he  was 
He  had,  however,  begun  two  other  elected  a  fellow  about  the  year 
pieces,  the  one  a  tragedy  called  1/02.  He  took  the  degree  of  B.  A. 
3.  Athaliah,  1 700,  and  M.  A.  1/0-1  ;  but,  upon 
which  was  to  have  been  a  transla-/  some  disagreement  between  him 
tion  from  Racine's  play   of  that  and  Dr,  Bentley,  then  master  of 


BRE 

that  college,  he  quitted  his  fellow- 
ship (or,  more  properly  speaking, 
was  expelled)  April  5,  1/08,  and 
went  into  the  army,  then  in  Flan- 
ders, as  an  ensign.     The  ease  with 
which    he   acquired    the    Flemish 
and  German  languages,  his  great 
learning,  his  exquisite  pencil,  and 
genteel  behaviour,  were  soon  taken 
notice  of  by  the  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough, who  not  only  promoted 
him  to  the  rank  of  captain,  but 
also  employed  him  in  divers  ne- 
gotiations   with    several    German 
princes,  which   he  executed  with 
great  integrity,  and  very  much  to 
the  satisfaction  of  his  noble  em- 
ployer.      He    began    his    travels 
about  the   year    1/20;    published 
the  first  two  volumes  in  1/23  and 
1/25,  and  the  third  and  fourth  in 
1/38;  and  died,    universally  be- 
loved,   in   January    1/3S-9-     He 
was  the  author  of  several  poems, 
and  of  the  following  plays,  viz. 

1 .  The  Play  is  the  Plot.  Com. 
4to.  17 18. 

From  this  play  were  taken, 

2.  The  Strollers,  F.  12mo.l72/; 
and  The  Mock  Countess.     F. 

3.  The  Rape  of  Helen.  M.  O. 
8vo.  1737. 

Soon  after  the  appearance  of 
Three  Hours  after  Alarriage, which, 
though  published  with  only  Mr. 
Gay's  name  to  it,  was  undoubtedly 
the  joint  offspring  of  that  gentle- 
man, Mr.  Pope,  and  Dr.  Arbuth- 
not,  and  which  met  with  little 
encouragement  from  the  public, 
Captain  Breval,  under  the  assumed 
name  of  Joseph  Gay,  produced, 

4.  The  Confederates.  F.  Svo. 
17J7- 

On  which  account  Mr.  Pope, 
who  never  could  forgive  the  least 
attempt  made  against  his  reigning 
the  unrivalled  sovereign  on  the 
throne  of  wit,  has  introduced  this 

VOL.   I. 


(56 

BRE 

-  gentleman  into  that  poetical  pil- 
lory The  Dunciad,  anions  the  va- 
rious authors  whom  he  has  sup= 
posed  devotees  of  the  ^ouuess  of 
Dulness. 

Brewer,  Anthony.  This  wri- 
ter lived  in  the  reign  of  King 
Junes  I.  and  appears  to  have  been 
held  in  high  estimation  by  the  wits 
of  that  time;  as  may  be  more  par- 
ticularly gathered  from  an  elegant 
compliment  paid  to  him  in  a  poem 
called  Steps  to  Parnassus,  wherein 
he  is  supposed  to  have  a  magic 
power  to  call  the  Muses  to  his 
assistance,  and  is  even  set  on  an 
equality  with  the  immortal  Shak- 
speare  himself;  There  are,  how- 
ever, great  disputes  among  the  se- 
veral writers  as  to  the  number  of 
his  works.  Winstanley  and  Phil- 
lips have  made-  him  the  writerof  six 
plays.  The  author  of  The  British 
Theatre,  and  after  him  Mr.  Theo- 
philus  Gibber,  have  given  him  the 
credit  of  three  only.  Langbaine, 
Jacob,  and  Gildon,  allow  him  but 
two;  and  even  of  those,  the  first 
of  these  authors  seems  to  doubt 
the  authenticity  of  one. 

To  come,  however,  to  the  best 
judgment  we  can  collect,  we  shall 
liist  mention  the  pieces  whichWin- 
stanley  has  assigned  to  him,  and 
which  are  universally  rejected. 
These  are  the  following  three  : 

1 .  Landgartha.     T.  C. 

2.  Lov&'s  Dominion.     Past. 

3.  Loves  Loadstone.     C. 

The  two  plays,  which  the  wri- 
ters in  general  have  set  down  to 
this  author  are, 

1.  Country  Girl.    C.    4 to.  1647, 

2.  Love-sick  J^ing.  Trag.Hist. 
4to.  1655. 

Langba-ine's  objection  to  the  first 

of  these  being  only  the  letters  T. 

B.  in  the  title-page,  which  might 

have   been  a  mere  typographical 

s 


66 


BRE 


B  R  E 


error,  proceeding,  perhaps,  from 
the  negligence  or  carelessness  of 
the  printer,  who,  not  being  certain 
of  the  author's  Christian  name, 
might  choose  rather  the  inserting 
any  letter  at  a  venture,  than  delay- 
ing the  working  off  the  sheet  till 
he  could  obtain  more  authentic 
information. 

And  now  the  only  piece  in  dis- 
pute is  that  entitled 

Lingua.  C.  4to.  16O7. 
This  Lnngbaine  absolutely  de- 
nies to  be  Brewer's,  yet  assigns  no 
other  reason  for  so  doing  but  bis 
own  bare  ipse  dixit ;  neither  does 
Winstanley  show  any  cause  for  as- 
cribing it  to  him.  Mr.  Theophi- 
lus  Cibber,  however,  as  well  as  the 
author  of  The  British  Theatre,  has 
followed  the  authority  of  the  lat- 
ter 5  as  has  also  Mr.  Dodsley,  who 
republished  the  piece  with  the  name 
of  Anthony  Brewer,  in  his  Col- 
lection of  Old  Plays.  To  this  we 
may  add,  that  probability  is  also  in 
its  favour ;  since,  being  of  a  much 
earlier  date  than  either  of  the  other 
two,  it  is  published  anonymously, 
and  may  therefore  be  supposed  to 
have  been  the  author's  first  essay 
in  this  kind  of  writing. 

Be  the  author,  however,  who 
he  may,  there  is  a  remarkable 
anecdote  recorded  by  Winstanley, 
in  regard  to  the  piece  itself,  which 
points  it  out  to  have  been  in  some 
measure  the  cause  of  those  troubles 
•which  disturbed  the  peace  of  these 
realms  in  the  middle  of  the  seven- 
teenth century.  He  tells  us,  that, 
■wheal  this  play  was  acted  at  Cam- 
bridge, Oliver  Cromwell  (then  a 
'Vouth)  performed  a  part  in  it.  The 
.  subject  of  the  piece  is,  a  conten- 
tion among  the  Senses  for  a  crown, 
■which  Lingua  has  laid  for  them  to 
find.  The  part  allotted  to  young 
Cromwell  was  that  of  Tactus,  or 
Touch,  who,  having  obtained  the 


contested  coronet,  makes  this  spi- 
rited declaration  : 

"  Roses,  and  bays,  pack  hence !  this 
crown  and  robe, 

"  My  brows,  and  body,  circles  and  in- 
vests : 

"  How  gallantly  it  fits  me! — sure  the 
slave 

"  Measur'd  my  head  that  wrought  this 
coronet. — 

"  They  lie  that  say  complexions  cannot 
change ! 

"  My  blood  's  ennobled,  and  I  am  trans- 
form'd 

"  Unto  the  sacred  temper  of  a  king. 

"  Methinks  I  hear  my  noble  parasites 

"  Styling  me  Caesar,  or  great  Alexander, 

"  Licking  my  feet,  &c." 

It  is  said,  that  he  felt  the  whole 
part  so  warmly,  and  more  espe- 
cially the  above-quoted  speech, 
that  it  was  what  first  fired  his  soul 
with  ambition,  and  excited  him, 
from  the  possession  of  an  imaginary 
crown,  to  stretch  his  views  to  that 
of  a  real  one,  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  which  he  was  contented  to 
wade  through  seas  of  blood, 

"  And  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on  man- 
kind." 

This  story,  as  it  has  found  its 
way  into  most  of  the  anecdotes  of 
our  author,  is  here  retained.  It 
has  been  observed  upon  it,  that  the 
play  was  published  in  160/,  and 
that  Oliver  Cromwell  was  not  born 
until  1599.  (See  the  last  edition 
of  Dodsley's  Old  Plays,  vol.  v.) 
The  story,  however,  of  Crom- 
well's having  performed  a  part  in 
it,  might  still  be  true.  It  is  not 
said  that  he  acted  in  this  play  on  its 
first  representation.  It  might  have 
been  exhibited  at  Cambridge  many 
years  after  its  original  production. 

There  is  no  more  reason  for 
ascribing  Lingua  to  Brewer  than 
to  any  other  dramatic  writer. 
The  true  origin  of  Phillips's  mis- 
take, and  of  Winstanley's  also 
(who  copied  him  implicitly),  was 


BRE 
this  :  In  his  account  of  plays,  he 
took  Kirkman's, Catalogues,  print- 
ed in  l66l  and  1671,  for  his  guide. 
Kirkman's  rule  was.  to  set  the  au- 
thor's name  opposite  to  his  play, 
and  where  the  writer  of  a  piece 
was  unknown,  to  leave  a  blank. 
Phillips,  not  attending  to  this  ima- 
gined that  all  the  plays  which  were 
set  down  in  those  catalogues',  with- 
out an  author's  name  prefixed,  be- 
longed to  the  writer  last  mention- 
ed ;  and  rinding,  under  letter  L, 
the  plays  of  Luudgartha,  Love's 
Loadstone,  Lingua,  and  Love's 
Dominion,  immediately  after  The 
Lovesick  King,  to  which  Brewer's 
name  is  annexed  in  the  catalogues, 
he  has  ascribed  all  these  pieces  to 
that  writer.  Thus  these  biogra- 
phers have  ascribed  Liberality  and 
Prodigality ,  Lady  Alimony ,  Lumi- 
nalia,  and  The  Laws  of  Nature, 
to  Thomas  Lodge  and  Robert 
Green,  merely  because  all  these 
pieces  happened  to  be  arranged  in 
the  catalogues  after  The  Looking- 
glass  for  London,  a  play  written 
by  those  two  authors.  Almost  all 
their  errors  will  be  found  to  have 
arisen  from  this  misapprehension. 

Brewer,  George,  is  a  native 
of  England,  and  was  born  in  the 
year  1/66.  He  is  the  son  of 
Mr.  John  Brewer;  well  known  as  a 
connoisseur  in  the  arts,  much  ho- 
noured and  respected  as  a  private 
man,  and  who  had  the  friendship 
of  some  of  the  most  distinguished 
characters  of  his  day;  among 
whom  were  Jonas  Han  way,  George 
Keate,  Mr.  Greville,  Paul  Sandby, 
&c.  &c.  Mr.  George  Brewer  is 
descended,  on  his  mother's  side, 
from  the  family  of  the  Warbur- 
tons,  of  Cheshire.  Very  early  in 
life  Mr.  B.  was  sent  out  as  a  mid- 
shipman, under  the  patronage  of 
the  late  Admirarl  Gambier,  and 
served  with  Lord  Hugh  Seymour,. 


67 

B  R  t 

Rowland  Cotton,  &c.  In  the  year 
1/91,  Mr.  B.  was  honoured  with 
a  lieutenancy  in  the  Swedish  navy  5 
and,  with  the  interest  which  he 
had,  would  most  likely  have  at- 
tained by  this  time  high  rank  in 
the  service  of  his  country ;  but, 
on  the  prospect  of  a  long  peace, 
we  believe,  Mr.  B.  was  prevailed 
on,  by  an  old  school-fellow,  to 
engage  in  the  profession  of  the  law. 
An  early  love  of  literature  display- 
ed itself  in  Mr.  B.'s  character  ;  and 
we  believe  his  first  work,  a  novel 
entitled  Tom  IVeston,  was  written 
while  he  was  in  the  navy ;  as  well 
as  a  comedy,-  afterwards  played  at 
the  Haymarket  theatre,  entitled, 
Row  to  be  Happy.  Bat  the  chief 
capabilities  of  this  writer  have 
been  shown  in  his  Essays  after  the 
Manner  of  Goldsmith,  which  ap- 
peared occasionally,  for  more  than 
twelve  years,  in  The  European  Ma- 
gazine ;  and  in  his  work  entitled 
Hours  of  Leisure,  the  merit  of 
which  could  not  fail  of  establish- 
ing his  pretensions  as  an  essayist. 
His  other  works  are,  Bill  Wood- 
cock, 2  vols  ;  Essay  on  the  Rights 
of  the  Poor,  a  pamphlet ;  Pro- 
spectus  of  a  new  Law  between 
Debtor  and  Creditor,  a  pamphlet  j 
Siamese  Tales;  Tales  of  the  Twelve 
Soubahs  of  fndo.it/rn,  published  in 
The  European  Magazine  ;  The  Ju- 
venile Lavater;  The  Town,  a  pe- 
riodical p.;per,  now  publishing. 

As  a  dramatist  we  know  only  of 
the  following  : 

1.  How  to  be  Happy .    C.   1/94. 
N.  P. 

2.  Bannian  Day.    Musical  Ent. 
8vo.  1796. 

3.  The  Man  in   the  Moon.     D- 
Sketch.     1799.     N.  P. 

Bridel,      Edmund  -  Philip, 
LL.  1).  master  of  an  academy  in 
Eird's  Buildings,  Islington,  is  au" 
thor  of 
$  2 


6$ 

BIIO 

The  fifth  of  November.  Dr.  in 
three  acts.     12mo.  ISO/. 

Bridges,  Thomas.  This  gen- 
tleman is  a  native  of  Yorkshire, 
and  was  at  one  period  of  his  life 
a  wine  merchant  at  Hull.  He  is 
the  author  of  a  very  humorous 
Travestie  of  Homer,  The  Adven- 
tures of  a  Bank-note,  some  poems, 
and  the  two  following  dramatic 
pieces  : 

1.  Dido.    C.  O.     Svo.  1771. 

2.  The  Dutchman.  M.E.  Svo. 
1775. 

Bristol,  Earl  of.  SeeDiGBY. 

Bristowe,  Francis.  Thetrans- 
lator  from  the  French  of 

King  Freewill.  T.  1635.    N.P. 

Brome,  Alexander.    This  au- 
thor flourished  in  the  reign  of  King 
Charles  I.  and  was  an  attorney  in 
the  Lord  Mayor's  court.     He  was 
born  in  1620,  and  died  June  30, 
1666;    so   that  he  lived  through 
the  whole  of  the  civil  wars  and  the 
protectorship,    during    all    which 
time  he  maintained  his  loyalty  un- 
tainted. He  was  a  warm  Cavalier  5 
and  though  in  his  profession  of  the 
law  he  could  do  no  service  to  the 
cause  he  loved,  yet,  as  he  was  a 
devotee  of  the  Muses,  as  well  as 
an    attendant  on    the  courts,    he 
frequently  turned  his  pen  from  the 
filling  up  of  writs,  to  the  inditing 
of  odes,  sonnets,  and  dithyrambs, 
in  the  most,  of  which  he  treated 
the  Roundheads  with  great  keen- 
ness and  severity.     In  short,  Se 
was  author  of  much  the   greater 
part  of  those   songs  and  epigrams 
which  were  published  in  favour  of 
the  royalists,  and  against  the  Rump, 
as  well  in  Oliver  Cromwell's  time 
as  during  the  rebellion.     These, 
together  with  his  epistles  and  epi- 
grams translated  from  different  au- 
thors, were  all  printed  in  one  vol. 
Evo.  after   the    Restoration.     He 
alio  published  a  version  of  Horace, 


B  R  O 

by  himself  and  other  hands,  which 
is  very  far  from  a  bad  one.  He 
left  behind  him  only  one  dramatic 
piece,  which  is  entitled 

The  Cunning  Lovers.  C.  4to. 
1654. 

The  world,  however,  is  indebted 
to  him  for  two  volumes  of  Richard 
Brome's  plays  in  octavo ;  many  of 
which,  but  for  his  care  in  pre- 
serving and  publishing  them,  would 
in  all  probability  have  been  entirely 
lost. 

Brome,    RicHARn.     This   au- 
thor lived  in   the  reign  of  King 
Charles  I.  and  was  contemporary 
with  Dekker,  Ford,  Shirley,  &c. 
His  extraction  was  mean,  he  hav- 
ing originally  been  no  better  than 
a  menial  servant  to  the  celebrated 
Ben  Jonson.     He  wrote  himself, 
however,  into  high  repute  5  as  is 
testified  not  only  by  various  com- 
mendatory verses  written  by  his 
contemporaries,    and   prefixed  to 
many  of  his  plays,  but  also  by  some 
lines  which  his  quondam  master 
addressed  to  him  on  account  of  his 
comedy  called  The  Northern  Lass ; 
in  which,    although   Ben  Jonson 
has  given  way  to  that  kind  of  va- 
nity which  is   perpetually  starting 
forth  in  all  his  writings,  and  re- 
presents himself  as  the  first  who 
had  instructed  the  age  In  the  co- 
mic laws,  and  all  the  perfect  arts 
of  the  drama,  yet  he  pays  great 
commendation  to  Richard  Brome, 
by    acknowledging    that    he    has 
made  very  good  use  of  the  im- 
provements he  had  acquired  during 
a   long    apprenticeship    under   so 
skilful  a  master. 

Brome,  in  imitation  of  his  mas- 
ter, laid  it  down  as  his  first  great 
point,  to  apply  closely  to  the  study 
of  men  and  manners.  His  genius 
was  entirely  turned  to  comedy, 
and  therefore  his  proper  province 
was  observation  more  than  read- 


69 


BRO 

ing.  His  plots  are  all  his  own, 
and  are  far  from  being  ill  con- 
ducted ;  and  his  characters,  which 
for  the  most  part  are  strongly 
marked,  were  the  offspring  of  his 
own  judgment  and  experience,  and 
his  close  attention  to  the  foibles 
of  the  human  heart.  In  a  word, 
his  plays  in  general  are  good  ones, 
met  with  great  applause  when  first 
acted,  and,  as  Langbaine  informs 
us,  were  thought  by  the  players 
worthy  to  be  revived,  to  their  own 
profit  and  the  author's  honour,  in 
that  critical  age  which  he  himself 
lived  in.  Nay,  we  have  had  a 
proof,  even  in  our  own  time,  of 
the  merit  of  one  of  his  comedies, 
which,  with  a  very  little  altera- 
tion, was  revived,  and  with  great 
success,  viz.  The  Jovial  Crew, 
which  brought  crowded  audiences 
to  the  Theatre  Royal  in  Covent 
Garden,  at  frequent  repetitions  of 
its  performance. 

The  comedies  which  this  au- 
thor has  left  behind  him  are  fifteen 
in  number;  ten  of  which  are  col- 
lected together,  as  before  men- 
tioned, under  Alexander  Brome, 
in  two  volumes  8vo.  each  volume 
bearing  the  title  of  Five  New  Plays 
ly  Richard  Brome.  The  whole  list 
of  his  pieces  is  as  follows  : 

1.  The  Northern  Lass.  C.  4to. 
J  632. 

2.  The  Sparagus  Garden.  C. 
4to.  1640. 

3.  The4nlipod.es.  C.  4to.  1640. 

4.  The  Jovial  Crew,  or,  The 
Merry  Beggars.  C.  4to.  1652. 
In  Dodsley's  Collection. 

5.  A  mad  Couple  ivell  match'd. 
C.     Svo.  1653. 

6.  Novella.     C.     Svo.  1653. 
7-  The  Court  Beggar.     C.  8vo. 

1653. 

S.  The  City  Wit  ;  or,  The  Wo- 
man wears  the  Breeches.  C.  Svo. 
\653, 


BRO 

9.  The  Damoiselle  ;  or,  The  new 
Ordinary.     C.     Svo.  1653. 

10.  The  Queen  s  Exchange.  C. 
Aio  1657.  Afterwards  printed, 
4to.  1661,  with  the  title  of  The 
Royal  Exchange. 

11.  The  English  Moor ;  or,  The 
Mock  Marriage.     C.     Svo.  1 659. 

12.  The  Love-sick  Court;  or, 
The  Ambitious  Politique.  C.  Svo. 
1658. 

13.  The  Weeding  of  the  Covent 
Garden  ;  or,  The  Middlesex  Justice 
of  Peace.     C.     Svo.  1658. 

14.  New  Academy  ;  or,  The  New 
Exchange.     C.     Svo.  1658. 

15.  The  Queen  and  Concubine. 
C     Svo.  1659. 

He  also  joined  with  Thomas 
Heywood  in 

The  Lancashire  Witches  ; 
and  wrote  (as   it  is  generally  be- 
lieved) the  following  pieces,  now 
probably  lost : 

1 .   Wit  in  a  Madness. 

1.  Christianetta. 

3.  The  Jewish  Gentleman. 

4.  The  Lovesick  Maid ;  or,  The 
Honour  of  young  Ladies.     1629.  ' 

5.  The  Life  and  Death  of  Sir 
Martyn  Skink,  with  the  Warres  of 
the  Low  Countries. 

6.  The  Apprentice's  Prize. 
The  two  last  also  in  conjunction 

with  Thomas  Heywood. 

Richard  Brome  died  in  the  year 
1652.  (See  Dodsley's  Collection 
of  Old  Plays,  vol.  x.'  p.  322.) 

Bromfield,  William.  A  late 
eminent  surgeon,  of  London  ;  to 
whom  has  been  ascribed  an  alter- 
ation of  The  City  Match,  pub- 
lished under  the  title  of 

The  Schemers.      C.      Svo.  1755. 

Brook,  Lord.    See  Greville. 

Brooke,  Henry.  This  gentle^ 
man  was  a  native  of  Ireland,  born 
in  King's  County,  and  was  enter- 
ed of  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  in 
1/20.  He  was  barrack-master  of 
f3 


70 


Mullingar,  in  the  county  of  "West- 
meath,  and  gained  great  reputa- 
tion as  a  writer  by  The  Farmer  s 
Letters,  published  in  Ireland  in 
the  time  of  the  rebellion,  and  writ- 
ten after  the  manner  of  Dean  Swift's 
Drapier's  Letters.  H  is  greatest  ap- 
plication, however,  seems  to  have 
been  to  the  drama ;  for,  in  the  year 
173S,  he  had  his  tragedy  of  Gus- 
tavus Fasa  rehearsed  at  the  Thea- 
tre Royal  in  Drury  Lane :  the 
actors  were  all  ready  in  their  parts, 
and  no  bar  seemed  in  the  way  to 
its  public  appearance  ;  when  an 
order  came  from  the  Lord  Cham- 
berlain to  prohibit  it. 

This  arbitrary  proceeding  of  the 
Lord  Chamberlain  drew  on  him  a 
great  deal  of  odium ;  and  afforded 
our  author  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing,  that  his  country  at  large 
espoused  his  cause.  Paul  White- 
bead,  in  some  elegant  lines  ad- 
dressed to  Mr  Brooke  at  the  time, 
was  very  severe  in  his  reproof  of 
the  Chamberlain's  conduct : 

"  Pleas'd  in  thy  lays  we  see  Gustavus 

live: 
'«  But,  O  Gustavus!  if  thou  canst,  forgive 
*.'  Britons  more  savage  than  the  tyiant 

Dane, 
"  Beneath  whose    yoke   you   drew    the 

galling  chain. 
?'  Degen'rate  Britons,  by  thy  worth  dis- 

may'd, 
!'  Profane  thy  glories,  and  proscribe  thy 

shade." 

Mr.  Brooke  met  with  the  same 
ill  success  in  Dublin  with  regard 
to  an  opera  called  Jack  the  Giant 
Queller,  brought  on  soon  after  the 
close  of  the  rebellion,  which,  after 
the  first  night's  representation,  was 
forbidden  by  the  government  to  be 
continued.  As  to  his  first  play, 
however,  the  prohibition  did  him 
no  kind  of  injury  ;  as  he  was  im- 
mediately encouraged  to  publish 
it  by  a  subscription,  which  has  been 


BRO 
said   to  have   amounted   to  eight 
hundred  pounds. 

The  disappointment  of  Mr. 
Brooke,  with  respect  to  Gustavus 
Vasa,  did  not  deter  him  from  again 
turning  his  talents  to  the  stage  j 
for,  in  1/41,  his  tragedy  of  The 
Earl  of  Westmoreland;  or,  The 
Betrayer  of  his  Country  ;  was 
brought  forward  in  Dublin,  and 
met  with  great  success.  This  drew 
from  an  anonymous  writer  some 
elegant  lines  addressed  to  him, 
from  which  the  following  are  ex- 
tracted : 

"  Lo!   Brooke,  in  fancy  nobly  wild, 
"  Returns,  Invention's  eldest  child. 
"  With  cc.ence  fraught,  and  ev'ry  art, 
"  He  rules,  at  will,  the  varied  heart  ; 
"  Instructs  the  patriot's  breajt  to  glow, 
li  Or  bids  the  eye  of  beauty  flow. 
"  In  looser  dress  Gustavus  charm'd, 
"  And,  rich  in  negiigencv,  warm'd  ; 

like  a  shining  bride  appears, 
'■  In  all  the  pomp  that  beauty  wears." 

In  1752  the  tragedy  of  The  Earl 
of  Essex  was  represented  at  the 
Theatre  in  Smock  Alley,  Dublin. 
This  last  play,  however,  being, 
we  believe,  the  property  of  Mr. 
Sheridan,  late  manager  of  Smock 
Alley  Theatre,  when  that  gentle- 
man acted  at  Drury  Lane  in  the 
winter  of  1/01,  his  emoluments 
being  to  arise  from  a  certain  pro- 
portion of  the  profits  of  the  house 
on  those  nights  in  which  he  per- 
formed, he  was  allowed  a  right  of 
reviving  or  getting  up  such  plays  as 
he  imagined  would  turn  the  most 
to  his  and  the  managers'  joint  ad- 
vantage. An  which  he 
.  oice  was  Mr. 
Brooke's  Earl  of  E.-sez,  which, 
being  licensed  bv  the  Lord  Cham- 
berlain, was  now  brought  on  at 
Drury  Lane,  and  met  with  good 
success. 

Through  the  whole  of  Mr. 
Brooke's  writings  there  breathes  a 


B  R  O 
strong  spirit  of  liberty  and  patri- 
otic zeal  3  which,   though  the  na- 
tural and  inborn  principles  of  every 
subject  of  these  realms,  may  have 
subjected   them  to  misrepresenta- 
tion ;  and,  what  is  far  from  an  un- 
common  case,    rendered    general 
sentiment  suspected  as  particular 
reflection  ;  yet  those  who  had  the 
pleasure  of  knowing  Mr.  Brooke 
personally  must  be  so  well  assured 
of  the  integrity  of  his  heart,  and 
his  firm  attachment  to  the  present 
happy  succession,  as    entirely    to 
clear  Jiirn  from  the  slightest  sup- 
position of   any  intent    to  excite 
commotion,  or  awaken  discontent, 
by  any  of  his  writings. 

His  dramatic  pieces  in  them- 
selves, independent  of  these  kinds 
of  considerations,  though  not  to  be 
ranked  in  the  first  class,  have  un- 
doubtedly a  considerable  share  of 
merit.  His  plots  are  ingeniously 
laid  and  well  conducted,  his  cha- 
racters not  ill  drawn,  and  his  lan- 
guage is  bold  and  nervous  ;  though 
it  must  be  acknowledged,  in  the 
last  particular,  the  author  at  times 
seems  to  pay  too  little  regard  to 
the  correctness  of  measure,  and  to 
that  polish  which  the  language  of 
tragedy  ought  to  receive  from  har- 
mony of  numbers.  Upon  the 
whole,  however,  we  cannot  hesi- 
tate to  place  him  very  high  among 
the  writers  of  the  English  lan- 
guage; and  can  hardly  refuse  him 
that  praise,  which  a  great  poet 
so  liberally  bestowed  on  him  : 

"  Shakspeare  's  no  more — lost  was  the 

poet's  name, 
"  Till  thou,  my  friend,  my  genius,  ■-.prung 

to  fame. 
"  LuT'dbyhislaurel'snever-fadingbloom, 
"  You  boldly  snatch'd  the  trophy  from  his 

tomb  ; 
"  Taught  the  declining  Muse  again  to 

sonr, 
*•  And  to  Britannia  gave  one  poet  more." 
P,  Whitehead. 


B  R  O 

Mr.  Brooke  died  in  Dublin,  on 
the  loth  day  of  October  1783. 
Before  his  death,  we  have  heard 
that  he  became  a  Methodist. 

His  dramatic  pieces  are  as  fol- 
low: 

1.  Gustavus  Vusa.  Trag.  Svo. 
1739. 

2.  The  Earl  of  Westmoreland. 
T.     1741. 

3.  Jack  the  Giant  Queller.  Op. 
Play,"  174S.  8vo.l77S;  Svo.  1792. 

4.  The  Earl  of  Essex.  T.  Svo. 
1701. 

5.  Antony  and  Cleopatra.     T. 

6.  The  Impostor.     T. 

7.  Cymbeline.     T. 

8.  Alontezuma.     T. 

9.  The  Festal  Pirgin.     T. 

10.  The  Contending  Brothers.  C. 

1 1 .  The  Charitable  Association.  C. 

12.  The  Female  Officer.     C. 

13.  The  Marriage  Contract.    C. 

14.  Ruth.     Orat. 

All  printed  in  his  Works,  4  vols. 
8vo.  1778. 

His  other  writings  are, 

Universal  Beauty,  a  poem. 

Translations  from  Tasso. 

Fa  Wespublished  byMr.  E.Moore. 

Chaucer's  Tales  modernized. 

The  Farmer's  Letters. 

The  Fool  of  Quality,  a  novel. 
Together  with  sundry  other  mis- 
cellaneous compositions. 

Bkooke,  Miss.  This  lady,  the 
daughter  of  the  foregoing  writer, 
besides  translating  and  publishing, 
in  1789,  in  a  quarto  volume,  Re- 
liques  of  Irish  Poetry,  wrote  a  play, 
of  which  we  have  heard  a  very 
good  character;  but  the  MS.  of 
which  is  supposed  to  be  lost, 
called 

Belisnrius.     Trag. 

Brooke,  Frances.  This  lady, 
whose  maiden  name  was  Moore, 
was  the  daughter  of  a  clergyman, 
and  the  wife  of  the  Rev.  John 
Brooke,  rector  of  Colney,  in  Nor« 
f4 


72 
BRO 
folk,  of  St.  Augustine,  in  the  city 
of  Norwich,  and  chaplain  to  the 
garrison  of  Quebec.  Her  husband 
died  Jan.  21,  1789;  and  she  her- 
self on  the  26th  oi  the  same 
month,  at  Sleaford,  at  the  house 
of  her  son,  who  had  preferment 
in  that  part  of  the  country. 

Mrs.  Brooke  was  a  lady  of  first- 
rate  abilities,  and  as  remarkable 
for  gentleness  and  suavity  of 
manners,  as  for  her  literary  talents. 
She  wrote  and  published  some 
admirable  novels  (among  which 
were,  Lady  Julia  Mandeville, 
Emily  Montague,  Marquis  of  St. 
Forlaix,  and  The  Excursion) ;  a 
periodical  paper,  called  The  Old 
Maid }  a  translation  of  Milot's 
Elements  of  the  History  of  Eng- 
land ;  and  the  following  dramas : 

1.  Virginia.     T.  8vo.   1756. 

2.  Siege  of  Shwpe.  T.  8vo. 
1781. 

3.  Rosina.    CO.  Svo.   1/S3. 

4.  Marian.    M.  E.   Svo.   1/S3. 
Brookes,  ,    a  gentleman 

of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge, 
was  author  of  the  following  Latin 
plays : 

1.  Scyros.     Past.   l6l2.    N.  P. 

2.  Melanhe.    Past.  4to.   1615. 
Brookes    11.    This  gentleman 

was  rector  of  Ashney  in  Northamp- 
tonshire, and  published  a  transla- 
tion of  Du  H aide's  History  of 
China,  in  which  is  contained  one 
play,  called, 

Tchao  Chi  Con  Ell ;  or,  The 
Little  Orphan  of  the  Family  of 
Tchao.     T.   1737. 

Broughtom,     Thomas,     was 


BRO 

2Sth  of  May  1  /  27,  and,  entering 
into  orders,  left  the  university  for 
a  curacy,  that  of  Offiey,  in  Hert- 
fordshire.     In   1739,  he   was  in- 
stituted to  the  rectory  of  Stibing- 
tODj  in  Huntingdonshire,  on  the 
presentation  of  John  Duke  of  Bed- 
lord,  who  also  appointed  him  one 
of  his  chaplains,     Soon  after  he 
was  chosen  reader  to  the  Temple, 
by  which  means  he  became  known 
to  Bishop  Sherlock;  who,  in  1744, 
presented  him  to  the  valuable  vi- 
carage of  Bedminster,  near  Bristol, 
with    the    chapels   of    St. .  Mary 
Redcliff,  St.  Thomas,  and  Abbots 
Leigh,  annexed.    Some  short  time 
after,  he  was  collated  by  the  same 
patron  to  the  prebend  of  Bedmin- 
ster and  Redcliff,  in  the  cathedral 
of  Salisbury.     Upon  receiving  this 
preferment,  he  removed  from  Lon- 
don to  Bristol,  where  he  married 
the  daughter  of  Thomas  Harris, 
clerk.     He  resided  on   his  living 
till  his  death,  which  happened  on 
the    2 1st  of  December    17/4,  in 
the  seventy-first  year  of  his  age, 
and  was   buried  in  the  church  of 
St.  Mary  Rede  lid". 

He  was  one  of  the  original  wri- 
ters in  the  Biographicd  Britannicat 
and,  besides  many  other  works, 
was  the  author  of 

Hccules.     M.  D.    Svo.    1/45. 
Brown,  Anthony,    This  gen- 
tleman   was    a    member    of    the 
Temple,   and  wrote   a    play,  en- 
titled, 

The  Fatal  Retirement.     T-  Svo, 

}?39- 

This  play  was  condemned,  and 
born  on  the  5th  of  July  1704,  hi-  indeedveryd  'servedl'y;  there  being 


the  parish  ol  St.  Andrew,  Hol- 
born,  where  his  father  was  mini- 
ster. He  received  his  education 
at  Eton  school,  and  from  thence 
was  resnoved  to  Gonville  and 
Caius  College.  He  took  the  de- 
gree of  bachelor  of  arts  on    the 


ii'  ither  plot,  incident,  norlanguage 

in  it,  that  had  by  any  means  a 
right  to  recommend  it  to  the  pub- 
lic regard.  Yet  its  want  of  suc- 
cess was  the  occasion  of  sonic  in- 
sults being  shown  to  an  actor  of 
great  consequence,  whose  spirited 


73 

ERO 

behaviour  on  the  circumstance  may 
be  seen  more  at  large  in  our  ac- 
count of  this  play  in  Vol.  II. 

Brown,  Thomas.  This  fa- 
cetious writer,  who  is  the  delight 
of  such  as  admire  low  humour, 
was  the  sun  of  a  farmer  of  fehifthal, 
in  Shropshire.  He  was  educated 
at  Newport  school  in  that  county, 
and  attained  a  knowledge  of  the 
Latin,  Greek,  French,  Italian,  and 
Spanish  languages.  From  New- 
port school  he  removed  to  Christ 
Church  College,  Oxford.  There 
he  was  celebrated  for  his  abilities, 
and  for  his  irregularities  ;  and  on 
account  of  the  latter  was  soon 
obliged  to  quit  the  university. 
After  exhausting  the  whole  of  the 
small  pittance  he  had  brought  to 
town  with  him,  he,  for  his  sup- 
port, became  a  schoolmaster  at 
Kingston  upon  Thames;  but  being 
impatient  of  a  recluse  life,  lie 
soon  quitted  that  situation  and 
came  again  to  London,  where  he 
plunged  into  all  the  license  and 
dissipation  of  the  metropolis.  Fie 
now  became  an  author  by  pro- 
fession, and  experienced  all  the 
vicissitudes  of  fortune,  which  a 
mixture  of  industry  and  carelessness 
could  produce.  An  anonymous 
writer,  who  has  given  the  world 
some  account  of  him,  observes, 
"  that  it  was  not  his  immorality 
"  that  hindered  him  from  climb* 
,c  ing  to  the  top  of  poetry  and  pre- 
"  ferment;  but  that  he  had  a  par- 
"  ticular  way  of  sinning  to  him- 
"  self.  To  speak  in  plain  Eng- 
"  hah,  Tom  Biown  had  less  the 
"  spirit  of  a  gentleman  than  the 
"  rest  of  the  wits,  and  more  of  a 
*f  scholar,  Tom  thought  himself 
"  as  happy  with  a  retailer  of 
"  damnation  in  an  obscure  hole, 
"  as  another  to  have  gone  to  the 
'*  devil  with  all  the  splendour  of  a 
<ffine  equipage.     'Twas  not  the 


BEO 
<s  brightness  of  Caelia's  eyes,  nor 
"  her  gaudy  trappings,  that  at- 
"  tracted  his  heart.  Cupid  might 
"  keep  his  darts  to  himself;  Tom 
"  always  carried  his  fire  about 
"  him.  If  she  had  but  a  mouth, 
"  two  eyes,  and  a  nose,  he  never 
"  inquired  after  the  regularity  of 
"  her  dress  or  features.  He  al- 
"  ways  brought  a  good  stomach 
"  with  him,  and  used  but  little 
"  ceremony  in  the  preface.  As 
"  of  his  mistresses,  so  he  was  very 
"  negligent  in  the  choice  of  his 
se  companions,  who  were  some- 
"  times  mean  and  despicable — a 
"  circumstance  which  never  fails 
"  to  ruin  a  man's  reputation.  He 
"  was  of  a  lazy  temper;  and  the 
"  booksellers,  who  gave  him  cre- 
"  dit  enough  as  to  his  capacity, 
"  had  no  confidence  to  put  in  his 
"  diligence."  The  same  writer 
adds,  that  though  our  author  was 
a  good-natured  man,  yet  he  had 
one  pernicious  quality  which  eter- 
nally procured  him  enemies ;  and 
that  was,  rather  to  lose  his  friend 
than  his  joke.  Fie  died  in  the 
year  1704,  and  was  buried  in  the 
cloysters  of  Westminster  Abbey, 
near  the  remains  of  Mrs.  Behn. 
He  was  the  author  of, 

1.  Physic  lies  a-blieding ;  or, 
The  Apothecary  turned  Doctor.  C. 
4to.   1697. 

2.  The  Stage- Beaux  toss'd  in  a 
Blanket;  or,  Hypocrisy  A- la- Mode. 
C.  4to.   1704. 

3.  The  Dispensary.  F.  Printed 
in  his  works. 

Brown,  P*Ir.  To  a  person  of 
this  name,  Mears,  in  his  Cata- 
logue, ascribes  a  translation  from 
Noble,  of  a  French  play,  en- 
titled, 

The  Two  Harlequins.  F.  8vo. 
1718. 

Brown,  Dr.  John.  This  ele- 
gant, ingenious,  and  unhappy  au- 


74 


BRO 


thor  was  bom  at  Rothbury,  in  the 
county  of  Northumberland,  on  the 
5th  of  November  1/15.  The  fa- 
mily from  which  he  was  descend- 
~ed  were  the  Browns  of  Colstown, 
near  Haddington,  in  Scotland. 
His  father,  John  Brown,  was  a 
native  of  Duns,  in  Scotland,  and, 
at  tlie  time  of  his  son's  birth, 
curate  to  Dr.  Thomlmson,  rector 
of  Rothbury.  He  afterwards  was 
collated  to  the  vicarage  of  Wigton, 
in  Cumberland.  To  this  place  he 
carried  his  son,  and  there  our  au- 
thor received  the  first  part  of  his 
education.  From  thence  he  was 
removed  to  the  university  of  Cam- 
bridge, where  he  was  matricu- 
lated on  the  18th  of  December 
1732,  and  entered  of  St.  John's 
College,  under  the  tuition  of  Dr. 
Tunstall.  After  taking  the  degree 
of  bachelor  of  arts  with  great  re- 
putation, he  returned  to  Wigton, 
and  was  ordained  by  Dr.  Fleming, 
Bishop  of  Carlisle.  His  first  pre- 
ferment was  to  a  minor  canonry 
and  lecturership  of  the  cathedral 
church  of  Carlisle.  He  remained 
in  obscurity,  at  that  city,  several 
years,  until  the  rebellion  1745, 
when  he  acted  as  a  volunteer  at 
the  siege  of  the  castle,  and  behaved 
with  great  intrepidity.  In  173g, 
he  took  the  degree  of  M.  A. 
and  some  time  after  was  present- 
ed to  the  living  of  Morland,  in 
the  county  of  Westmorland.  He 
resigned  his  preferment  in  the  ca- 
thedral of  Carlisle  in  disgust.  On 
Mr.  Pope's  death  he  wrote  the 
Essay  on  Satire,  addressed  to  Dr. 
Warburton,  who  immediately  in- 
troduced him  to  his  friend  Mr. 
Allen  and  others,  and,  by  his  in- 
terest with  Lord  Hardwicke,  pro- 
cured him  the  living  of  Great 
Horkesley,  in  Essex.  In  1/57,  he 
published  his  celebrated  Estimate 
*■>/  the  Manners,  find  Principles  of 


BRO 
the  Times ;  a  work  which  was  run 
down  by  popular  clamour,  but  not 
answered.  Obtaining  the  vicarage 
of  St.  Nicholas,  Newcastle,  he  re- 
signed his  living  in  Essex  to  Lord 
Hardwicke,  with  whom,  as  well  as 
with  Dr.  Warburton,  there  had 
some  time  before  been  a  coolness. 
He  received  no  other  preferment, 
which,  to  a  person  of  Dr.  Brown's 
spirit,  must  have  been  a  great  mor- 
tification. In  the  latter  part  of 
his  life,  he  had  an  invitation  from 
the  Empress  of  Russia,  to  super- 
intend a  grand  design  which  she* 
had  formed,  of  extending  the  ad- 
vantages of  civilization  over  that 
great  empire.  He  accepted  the 
offer,  and  actually  prepared  for 
his  journey  j  but  finding  his  health 
in  too  precarious  a  state  to  admit 
him  to  fufil  his  intention,  he  was 
obliged  to  relinquish  it.  This  and 
other  disappointments  were  fol- 
lowed by  a  dejection  of  spirits, 
to  which  he  had  often  been  subject. 
In  an  interval  of  deprivation  of 
reason,  he  was  prompted  to  do 
violence  to  himself,  and  on  the  23d 
of  September  1/66  cut  his  throat, 
in  the  fifty -first  year  of  his  age. 
The  stage  stands  indebted  to  him 
for  two  dramatic  pieces,  the  suc- 
cess of  which  has  been  different, 
yet  has  not  done  any  great  honour 
to  public  taste  ;  for  his  Athelstan, 
which  is  much  the  more  original 
and  better  executed  piece  of  the 
two,  has  never  been  performed 
since  the  season  of  its  first  ap- 
pearance; while  Bar barossa,  whose 
design  is  much  too  nearly  ap- 
proaching to  that  ofMerope,  Doug- 
las, and  some  other  of  our  modern 
tragedies,  still  continues  on  the  list 
of  acting  plays. 

His  tragedies,  as  we  before  ob- 
served, are  only  two,  viz. 

1.  Barbarossa.     8vo.   1755, 

2.  Jthelsian.  8vo.  175©. 


B  R  O 

and  one  oratorio,  or  sacred  ode, 

3.  The  Cure  of  Saul.  4to.  1/63. 

Brows,  James.  Of  this  gen- 
tleman we  know  only  that  he  was 
author  of 

The  Frolic.     D.  P.   Svo.   1783. 

Browne,  Moses,  was  origin- 
ally a  pen-cutter ;  but  afterwards 
entered  into  holy  orders,  under 
the  patronage  of  Hervey,  author 
of  the  Meditations,  and  became 
vicar  of  Olney,  in  Bucks,  and 
chaplain  to  Murden  College.  He 
was  the  author  of  a  poem  called 
Sunday  Thoughts,  Piscatory  Ec- 
logues, and  several. other  pieces, 
some  of  which  are  pos<-e-seci  of 
considerable  merit.  In  ins  vouth 
(for  he  was  born  in  the  year  1703), 
he  wrote  two  dramas,  which  were 
both  represented  together,  and 
have  pretty  nearly  an  equal  degree 
of  merit.     They  are  entitled, 

1.  Polldus.     T.  Svo.   1723. 

2.  All  bedevilled.  F.  Svo.  1723. 
The  second  was  acted  by  w^y 

of  an  entertainment  added  to  the 
first.  Neither  of  them,  however, 
were  performed  at  a  theatre  royal, 
or  even  by  regular  actors  j  but 
only  by  some  gentlemen  of  the 
author's  acquaintance,  for  their 
own  diversion  and  the  gratification 
of  his  vanity,  at  a  place  which, 
in  the  title-page,  is  called  the  pri- 
vate theatre  in  St.  Alban's  Street, 
but  was  really  nothing  more  than 
some  school,  or  assembly-room, 
fitted  up  for  the  immediate  occa- 
sion of  this  play,  and  other  repre- 
sentations of  that  kind.  Mr. 
Browne  died  Sept.  13,  1/87. 

Browne,  William,  was  born 
at  Tavistock,  in  Devonshire,  in 
the  year  15f)0j  his  father,  ac- 
cording to  Prince,  in  his  Worthies. 
of  Devon,  being  probably  ot  the 
knightly  family  of  Browne,  of 
Browne  Bash,  in  the  parish  of 
Langtree,  near  Great  Torrington. 


BRO 
After  he  had  passed  through  the 
grammar-school,  he  was  sent  to 
Exeter  College,  Oxford,  where  he 
became  a  great  proficient  in  clas- 
sical learning,  and  in  the  belles 
lettres  was  scarcely  equalled :  from 
thence  he  was  removed,  before  he 
had  taken  any  academical  degree, 
to  the  Inner  Temple,  London, 
where  he  more  particularly  devo- 
ted himself  to  the  Muses.  In  th« 
beginning  of  the  year  loJ-1,  he 
returned  again  to  Exeter  College, 
and  became  tutor  10  Robert  Dor- 
mer, afterwardsEarl  ot  Carnarvon, 
who  lost  his  life  at  Newbury  fight 
on  the  29th  of  September  10'43. 
On  the  25th  of  March  162-1,  he 
received  permission  to  be  created 
M.  \.  although  the  degree  was  not 
conferred  upon  him  till  the  No- 
vember following.  He  is  styled,  in 
the  public  Register  of  the  universi- 
ty, a  man  well  skilled  in  all  kinds 
of  polite  literature  and  useful  artsj 
Fir  omni  human  a  literatura  ei  l>>- 
narum  artium  cognitioneinsfructus. 
After  he  had  left  rhe  college  with 
his  pupil,  he  was  received  into  the 
family  of  William  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke, who  had  a  great  respect  for 
him  ;  and  here,  according  to  Wood, 
he  made  his  fortune  so  well,  that 
he  purchased  an  estate :  he  also 
adds,  that  he  had  a  great  mind  in 
a  little  body  ;  but  with  regard  to 
the  time  of  his  death  he  is  very 
doubtful  5  for  all  that  he  says  of 
the  matter  is,  that,  "  in  his 
"  searches  he  finds  that  one  Wil- 
"  liam  Browne,  of  Ottery  St. 
"  Mary,  in  Devonshire,  died  in 
"  the  year  1645  ;  but  that  he  can- 
"  not  tell  whether  he  was  the 
"  same  with  the  poet." 

His  works  were  collected  and 
published,  by  Thomas  Davies, 
bookseller,  in  3  vols.  17/2,  and 
among  them  was  then  first  printed. 

The  Inner  Temple  Masque. 


76 


B  R  U 

He  seems,  says  Mr.  Headley, 
to  have  been  a  great  admirer,  and 
no  inattentive  observer,  of  the 
charms  of  Nature;  as  his  works 
abound  in  minute  rural  imagery, 
though  indiscriminately  selected. 
The  praise  he  has  received  from 
Selden,  Davies,  Jonson,  and  Dray- 
ton, and  the  notice  he  obtained 
from  Milton,  are  real  honours  that 
almost  counterbalance  oblivion ; 
at  least,  they  prove  that  he  did  not 
deserve  it.  The  following  testi- 
mony Drayton  has  left  of  him  : 

Then  the  two  Beaumonts  and  my  Bro-wne 

arose, 
My  dear  companions,   whom    I    freely 

chose 
My  bosom  friends  ;  and,  in  their  several 

ways, 

Rightly  born  poets— •. 

Of  Poets  and  Poesy. 

We  shall  conclude  this  article 
with  a  poetical  picture,  which 
Browne  has  left  us  of  himself: 

Among  the  rest  a  shepheard  (though  but 

young, 
Vet  hartned  to  his  pipe) ,  with  all  the  skill 
His  few  years  could,  began  to  fit  his  quill- 
By  Tavy's   speedy   streame  he  fed   his 

flocke, 
Where  when  he  sat  to  sport  him  on  a 

rocke, 
The  water-nymphs   would  often  come 

unto  him, 
And  for  a  dance  with  many  gay  gifts  woo 

him, 
Now  posies  of  this  flowre,  and  then  of 

that, 
Now  with  fine  shels,  then  with  a  rushy 

hat, 
With  corall  or  red  stones,  brought  from 

the  deepe 
To  make  him  bracelets,  cr  to  marke  his 

sheepe- 
Willie  he   hight,  who   by   the   ocean's 

queene 
More  cheer'd  to  sing  than  such  young 

lads  had  beene, 
Tooke  his   best- framed  pipe,  and   thus 

gan  move 
His  voyce  of  Walla, Tavy's  fairest  love. 
Britannia  ±  Pastorals,  Book  ii.  Song  3 . 
ISrunton,  Anna.  This  lady  is 
wife  of  Mr.  Brunton,  of  Covent 


B  U  L 
Garden  Theatre.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  Mrs.  Brown,  an  ac- 
tress at  Covent  Garden  (in  Mrs. 
Jordan's  line  of  comic  characters) 
in  1785.  Mrs.  Brunton's  maiden 
name  was  Ross  ;  under  which 
name,  at  the  early  age  of  15,  she 
published 

The  Cottagers,  Com.  Op.  Svo. 
1/88. 

Bucke,  Paul,  is,  in  Oldys's 
MSS.  said  to  be  the  author  of 

The  Three  Ladies  of  London.  O. 
4to.   15S4. 

But  we  believe  this  to  be  an  un- 
founded conjecture,  from  Paule 
Bucke  standing  at  the  end  of  the 
list  of  characters  in  the  piece, 
whose  title-page  declares  it  to  have 
been  "  Written  by  R.  W." 

Buckhurst,  Lord.  See  Sack- 

VILLE. 

Buckingham,  Duke  of.  See 
Sheffield,  and  Villiers. 

Bullock,  Christopher.  This 
author  was  a  player  by  profession, 
and  the  son  of  Mr.  William  Bul- 
lock, whom  we  find  to  have  stood 
in  very  good  estimation  in  his 
theatrical  capacity,  nor  was  this 
son  of  his  by  any  means  deficient 
in  point  of  merit  as  an  actor.  At 
what  place,  or  in  what  year,  our 
author  was  born,  we  have  not  been 
able  to  trace.  He  became  joint 
manager  with  Mr.  Keene,  and 
another  actor/  of  the  Theatre  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  In  the  year 
1717  he  married  a  natural  daugh- 
ter of  that  great  performer  Mr, 
Wilks,  by  Mrs.  Rogers,  the  actress. 
This  lady  was  bred  up  to  the  stage; 
but  although,  from  the  advantage 
of  an  agreeable  figure,  she  pleased 
tolerably  well  in  several  dramatic 
characters,  jet  she  was  far  from 
inheriting  the  capital  merit  of 
either  her  father  or  mother.  Mr. 
Bullock  died  in  1/24,  not  much 
advanced  in  life:  for  Mr.  Chet» 


77 


BUR 


BUR 


wood,  who  must  have  personally 
known  him,  says  he  was  then  only 
in  the  road  to  excellence.  He  had 
a  great  deal  of  natural  sprightli- 
ness,  which  was  of  advantage  to 
him  on  the  stage;  he  performing 
for  the  most  part  the  same  cast  of 
characters  at  the  one  house  that 
Mr.  Colley  Cibber  supported  at 
the  other  ;  which  were,  the  fops, 
pert  gentlemen,  &c.  in  which  live- 
liness and  ease  are  most  essentially 
necessary. 

The  dramatic  pieces  Mr.  Bul- 
lock left  behind  him  were  seven  in 
number,  and  are  as  follow  : 

1.  A  Woman's  Revenge.  C. 
12mo.    1/15. 

2.  Slip.     F.  12mo.    1/15. 

3.  Adventures  of  Half  an  Hour. 
F.  12mo.    l^lfj. 

4.  Colter  of  Preston.  F.  12mo. 
1716. 

5.  Perjuror.    F.  8vo.   1717« 

6.  Woman  's  a  Riddle.  C.  4to. 
1718. 

7.  The  Tray  tor.  T.  Svo.  171S. 
As  to  the  comedy  of  Woman  's 

c  Riddle,  he  has  been  accused  of 
some  unfair  dealing  about  it,  with 
regard  to  Mr.  Savage  ;  but  that  is 
a  point  we  shall  endeavour  more 
fully  to  explain,  when  we  come  to 
the  life  of  that  gentleman. 

Bulteel,  John.  This  author 
was,  we  believe,  secretary  to  the 
Earl  of  Clarendon,  and  was  created 
M.  A.  at  Oxford,  9th  of  Septem- 
ber 1661.  He  was  the  son  of  a 
Frenchman,  of  both  the  same 
names,  who  lived  some  time  at 
Dover.  He  died  a  bachelor,  in 
the  parish  of  St.  Martin  in  the 
Fields,  Westminster,  in  1669, 
having  written  one  play,  called, 

Amorous  Orontus  ;  or,  Love  in 
Fashion.     C.  4to.   Idu5. 

Burges,  Sir  James  Bland, 
Bart,  and  LL.  D.  is  the  only  son 
©f  G«orge  Burges,    Esq.    by  his 


wife,  the  Hon.  Anne  Wichnoure 
Somerviile,  daughter  of  Lord  So- 
merville.  He  was  born  at  Gibral- 
tar, on  the  8th  of  June  1752,  and 
was  about  seven  years  under  the 
tuition  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Somerviile, 
author  of  The  History  of  the  Reign 
of  Qjiieen  Anne,  &:c.  during  which 
he  attended,  for  the  space  of  two 
years,  the  university  of  Edinburgh. 
He  was  then  placed  at  Westmin- 
ster school,  where  he  continued 
till  Christmas  1769 ;  when  he  was 
removed  to  University  College, 
Oxford,  and  placed  under  the 
tuition  of  the  Right  Hon.  Sir  Wil- 
liam (then  Dr.)  Scott,  brother  of 
Lord  Eldon,  and  now  Judge  of  the 
High  Court  of  Admiralty.  At 
college  he  remained  till  1773; 
when  he  made  the  tour  of  France, 
Italy,  Switzerland,  and  part  of 
Germany.  On  his  return,  he  at- 
tended the  courts  in  Westminster 
Hall  5  and  in  Easter  Term,  17 77, 
was  called  to  the  bar  by  the  So- 
ciety of  Lincoln's  Inn.  On  the 
19th  of  June,  in  the  same  year, 
he  was  married  to  the  Hon.  Eliza- 
beth Noel,  second  daughter  of 
Lord  Viscount  Wentworth,  who 
died  in  1779>  without  issue.  In 
December  1 7SO,  he  married  a  se- 
cond wife,  Ann,  daughter  of  Col. 
Montolieu  ;  by  whom  he  has  had 
a  numerous  family.  In  17S7,  he 
was  elected  to  Parliament  for  Hel- 
ston,  in  Cornwall,  and  was  re- 
chosen  for  the  same  place  in  1790. 
In  August  1 789,  he  was  appointed 
one  of  the  Under  Secretaries  of 
State  for  the  Foreign  Department ; 
and  in  1794,  a  Joint- Commis- 
sioner with  Evan  Nepean  and 
Stephen  Cotterell,  Esqrs.  of  the 
Privy  Seal. 

On  resigning,  in  October  1/95, 
his  office  of  Under  Secretary  of 
State,  the  King  created  him  a 
Baronet ;  and  he  had  also  the  ho- 


73- 


BUR 

nour  of  being  appointed  KnigLt 
Marshal  of  his  Majesty's  House- 
hold lor  lite. 

Sir  James  has  written  several 
ingenious  legal  and  political  pro- 
ductions. In  ihe  poetical  line  he 
has  elderly  distinguished  himself 
bv  7 ';'/(.'  Birth  andTriumph  of  Love, 
a  poem;  Richard  the  Fiat,  an 
heroic  poem,  in  eighteen  books; 
and  The  Exodiad,  a  poem  (written 
in  conjunction  with  Mr,  Cumber- 
laud)-  As  a  dramatist,  Sir  James  is 
author  of  an  alteration  of  Massin- 
ger's  City  Madam,  under  the  title 
of 

Riches.  Play.  8vo.   IS10. 
To  this  worthy  Baronet  we  have 
also  heard  ascribed 

Tricks  upon  Travellers.     C.  O. 

isia  N.  P. 

Burgess,  Mrs.  This  authoress, 
a  shopkeeper  in  St.  George's  Street, 
Canterbury,  wrote  one  play,  se- 
veral times  acted  in  that  city, 
called 

The  Oaks ;  or,  The  Beauties  of 
Canterbury.    C.  Svo.  178O. 

Burgoyne,  John.  This  au- 
thor was  long  a  lieutenant-ge- 
neral in  his  Majesty's  army  ;  but, 
disgusted  with  his  reception  from 
government,  after  his  return  from 
A  nerica,  he  resigned  all  his  mili- 
tary employments.  The  fatal  bu- 
siness at  Saratoga  will  transmit  his 
name  to  posterity;  but  whether 
with  honour  or  disgrace  must  be 
left  to  the  impartial  determination 
of  time.  He  married  a  daughter 
of  the  Earl  of  Derby,  and  died 
August  A,  1792.  His  dramatic 
piece>  are  as  follow  : 

1.  The  Maid  of  the  Oaks.  D.E. 
8vo.   1774. 

2.  The  Lord  of  the  Manor.  C. 
O.  Svo.    178I. 

3.  The  Heiress.    C.   Svo.    17S6. 

4.  Richard  Cceur  de  Lion.  Hist. 
Bom.  Svo.  17S6. 


BUR 

Burke,  Miss ,   a  lady  of 

Ireland,  the  repute:!  author  of 

The  Ward  oj  the  Castle.  C.  O. 
179^;     Not  printed,  we  believe. 

Burke,  \Y.  Of  this  writer  we 
know  nothing,  but  that  he  is  au- 
thor of 

The  Armed  Briton.  Play.  Svo. 
1806. 

Burkhead,  Henry.  Thisgen- 
'  nan  was  a  merchant  of  Bristol, 
and  lived  in  the  reign  of  King 
Charles  I.  He  seems  to  have  beeu 
a  man  of  strong  party  principles, 
and  wrote  a  play  which  was  never 
acted,  nor  probably  even  intended 
so  to  be,  entitled, 

Cola's  Fury.  T.  4to.  1(545. 
the  subject  of  it  being  the  Irish 
rebellion,  which  broke  out  in  Oc- 
tober 1641.  In  it  he  has  charac- 
terized all  the  principal  persons 
concerned  in  the  affairs  of  that 
time,  under  feigned  names.  And 
even  the  second  title  to  the  piece, 
viz.  Lirenda's  Misery,  is  expressive 
of  the  subject  aimed  at,  Lirenda 
being  no  more  than  an  anagram 
(which  was  a  kind  of  quibble  then 
much  in  vogue)  formed  from  the 
letters  which  compose  the  name  of 
Ireland. 

Burnaby,  Charles.  This 
gentleman  had  a  liberal  education., 
having  been  bred  up  at  the  uni- 
versity, and  afterwards  entered  a 
member  of  the  Middle  Temple. 
He  wrote  four  plays,  the  names  of 
which  are  as  follow  : 

1.  The  Reform  d  Wife.  C.  4to. 
1700. 

2.  The  Lady's  Visiting  Day.  C. 
4to.   1701. 

3.  The  Modish  Husband.  C.  4to. 
1702. 

4.  Love  betray' d.  C.  4to.  1703. 
Burnell,    Henry.      All    we 

can  gather  in  regard  to  this  gentle- 
man is,  that  he  was  a  native  of 


79 


BUR 


Ireland,  and  wrote  a  play  which 
was  acted  with  applause  at  the 
theatre  in  Dublin,  called 

Landgartha.  T.  C.  4to.   1641. 

It  appears,  that  he  had  before 
this  made  an  attempt  in  the  dra- 
matic way,  which  had  miscarried; 
but  what  the  name  of  that  former 
play  was,  we  cannot  trace  ;  nor  is 
it  at  all  improbable  that  it  never 
made  its  appearance  in  print. 

Burnly,  Charles,  Mus.  D. 
and  F.  R.  S.  was  born  at  Shrews- 
bury, April  7,  1726,  O.  S.  He 
had  part  of  his  education  at  the 
free-school  founded  by  Queen 
Elizabeth  in  that  'town,  and  part 
at  the  public  school  at  Chester ;  in 
which  city  he  first  began  his  mu- 
sical studies,  under  Mr.  Baker,  a 
scholar  of  Dr.  Blow,  then  organist 
of  that  cathedral.  About  the  year 
1741,  he  returned  to  Shrewsbury, 
and  pursued  (he  study  of  music 
under  his  half-brother,  Mr.  James 
Burney,  a  very  eminent  music- 
master,  and  organist  of  that  town, 
which  situation  he  filled  fifty-four 
years,  and  died  in  1/St),  aged  SO. 

In  1744,  he  met  with  Dr.  Arne, 
who  persuaded  his  friends  to  send 
him  to  London  ;  and  he  was  then 
placed  under  that  master  for  three 
years.  In  the  winter  of  1/49-50, 
he  composed,  for  Drury  Lane, 
three  musical  dramas,  viz.  Alfred, 
by  Mallet ;  Robin  Hood,  by  Men- 
dez ;  and  Queen  Mab.  June  24, 
1769,  he  was  honoured  with  the 
degree  of  Doctor  in  Music,  by  the 
university  of  Oxford.  He  has  pub- 
lished The  present  State  of  Mu- 
sic, in  France,  Italy,  the  Nether- 
lands, Holland,  and  Germany.  His 
principal  literary  productions,  how- 
ever, are,  A  General  History  of 
Music,  in  4  vols.  4to.  5  An  Account 
of  the  Musical  Performances  in 
Commemoration  of  Handel;  and 
Memoirs  of  Metastasio.     He  has 


BUR 

likewise  given  the  public  a  trans* 
lation  of  one  dramatic  piece,  from 
the  French  of  Rousseau,  called 

The  Cunning  Man.  M.  E.  Svo. 
1766. 

It  gives  us  pleasure  to  say,  that 
this  venerable  character  is  now 
enjoying  excellent  health  and  spi- 
rits, at  the  age  of  85,  as  organist 
of  the  Royal  Hospital  of  Chelsea. 
We  may  add,  to  his  honour,  that 
he  is  father  of  Dr.  Charles  Burney, 
of  Greenwich  (perhaps  the  ablest 
Greek  scholar  in  Europe),  and  of 
Madame  D'Arblay.     See  D'Ak- 

ELAY. 

Burrell,  Lady  Sophia,  was 
daughter  of  Sir  Charles  Raymond, 
Bart,  of  Valentines,  Essex.  She 
married,  in  1//3,  with  a  fortune 
of  100,000/.  Sir  William  Burrell, 
who  died  1796,  and  by  whom  she 
had  two  sons  and  two  daughters. 
After  his  death,  she  married,  May 
23,  1797,  the  Rev.  William  Clay, 
second  son  of  the  then  late  Rich- 
ard Augustus  Clay,  Esq.  of  South- 
well, Nottinghamshire.  Her  Lady- 
ship died  at  West  Cowes,  in  the 
Isle  of  Wight,  June  20,  1S02  ; 
having  published,  in  1793,  two 
8vo.  vols,  of  poems,  including, 

1.   Comala.  D.  P. 
in  1/94,  The  Thymbriad,  and  Te~ 
lemachus,  poems ;  and  subsequent 
to  these, 

1.  Maximian.  Trag.  8vo.  1 800. 

3.   Theodora.  Trag.  8vo.  1800. 

Burroughes,  Mb.  Of  this 
author  we  can  give  no  account, 
but  that  his  name  appears  in  the 
book  of  the  Stationers'  Company, 
4th  of  Sept.  1646,  as  the  author 
of  one  play,  which  was  never 
printed,  called 

The  Fatal  Friendship. 

Burton,  Philitpina,  was  an 
actress,  one  if  not  two  seasons,  at 
the  Theatre  in  the  Haymarket; 
and  produced  one  play,  acted  the 


BUT 

27th  of  April  1/70,  for  her  own 
benefit,  with  very  little  success, 
though  as  much  as  it  deserved, 
called 

Fashion  displayed.    C.    N.  P. 

Bushe,  Amyas,  A.  M.  F.R.S. 
Of  this  gentleman  we  know  no- 
thing more  than  that  he  is  the  au- 
thor of  one  dramatic  piece,  not 
intended  for  the  stage,  entitled, 

Socrates.  Dram.  Poem.  4 to. 
1758. 

Butlek,  Samuel,  was  born 
at  Strensham,  in  Worcestershire, 
1612.  He  lived  some  time,  though 
it  is  not  known  in  what  capacity, 
with  Sir  Samuel  Luke,  a  gentle- 
man of  an  ancient  family  in  Bed- 
fordshire, and  a  famous  commander 
under  Oliver  Cromwell.  While  he 
resided  in  this  gentleman's  family, 
it  is  generally  supposed  that  he 
planned,  if  he  did  not  write,  the 
celebrated  Hudibras ;  under  which 
character  it  is  thought  he  intended 
to  ridicule  that  knight.  When 
this  poem  became  known,  it  was 
necessarily  admired  :  the  PLing 
quoted,  the  courtiers  studied,  and 
the  whole  party  of  the  royalists 
applauded  it.  Every  eye  watched 
for  the  golden  shower  which  was 
to  fall  upon  the  author.  But 
praise  was  his  whole  reward.  It 
is  reported,  indeed,  that  the  King 
once  gave  him  three  hundred  gui- 
neas ;  but  of  t  his  temporary  bounty 
we  find  no  proof.  He  died  Sept. 
25,  1080,  and  was  buried  at  the 
private  expense  of  a  Mr.  Longue- 
ville,  of  the  Temple,  in  the 
churchyard  of  Covent  Garden. 
About  sixty  years  afterwards,  Mr. 
Barber,  a  printer,  lord  mayor  of 
London,  and  a  friend  to  Butler's 
principles,  bestowed  on  him  a  mo- 
nument in  Westminster  Abbey.  In 
the  mist  of  obscurity  passed  the 
life  of  Butler,  a  man  whose  name 
©an  only  perish  with  his  language. 
4 


BUT 

The  mode  and  place  of  his  educa- 
tion are  unknown  ;  the  event;  of 
his  life  are  variously  related  ;  and 
all  that  can  be  told  with  certainty 
is,  that  he  was  poor ! — Among 
other  papers  in  his  conmum  place 
book  was  found 

Nero.     Trag.     Unfinished. 

Butt,  George,  D.  D.  was 
born  at  Lichfield,  December  26, 
1/41,  and  received  the  rudiments 
of  his  educatiou  in  the  grammar- 
school  at  Stafford ;  from  thence 
he  was  sent  to  Westminster  school, 
where  he  distinguished  himself  by 
his  poetical  compositions,  and  his 
public  speaking,  and  at  length  be- 
came captain  of  the  school.  From 
Westminster  he  was,  in  1/iJQ, 
chosen  student  of  Christ  Church, 
Oxford.  In  1705  he  was  ordain- 
ed deacon,  and  appointed  curate 
of  Leigh,  in  Staffordshire.  In 
1771,  he  was  presented,  by  Sir 
Edward  Winnington.  of  Stanford 
Court,  Worcestershire  (to  whose 
son  he  had  been  long  tutor),  to 
the  rectory  of  Stanford,  and  the 
vicarage  of  Clifton,  in  Worcester- 
shire. Here,  besides  composing 
many  excellent  poems  and  ser- 
mons, he  exercised  his  genius  in 
dramatic  composition.  In  1777> 
he  proposed  to  bring  on  the  stage 
a  tragedy  which  he  had  written, 
called 

Timoleon ; 
but,  by  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Gar- 
rick,  it  was  not  put  into  perform- 
ance. In  the  year  177S,  the 
Bishop  of  Bristol  presented  Dr. 
Butt  with  the  living  of  New- 
church,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight ; 
which,  in  1783,  he  exchanged 
for  that  of  Notgrove,  in  Glouces- 
tershire. In  the  same  year  he  was 
appointed  one  of  the  chaplains  in 
ordinary  to  His  Majesty.  In  1787, 
he  was  presented  to  the  valuable 
vicarage  of  Kidderminster,  where 


SI 


BUT 
he  was  attacked  by  a  stroke  of  the 
palsy,  on  the  30th  of  June  1/95- 
He  was  brought  home  to  his  fa- 
mily at  Stanford,  and  died  there 
on  the  30th  cf  September,  in  the 
same  year.  His  sermons  display 
a  rare  originality  of  conception, 
an  inexhaustible  richness  of  ideas, 
and  an  animated  flow  of  words. 
In   his  poetry  he  seems  to  have 


BYE 

taken  Milton  and  Dryden  for  his 
models. 

Byerley,  John  Scott.  A 
native  of  Rippon,  of  this  name 
(who  has  written  two  or  three 
novels,  compiled  a  volume  of  ama- 
tory poems,  and  translated  Ma- 
chiavel's  Prince),  published,  under 
the  name  of  John  Scott  Ripon, 

Buonaparte.  Dram.  8vo.  1803. 


C. 


C  R 

O.  J.  These  two  letters  are  pre- 
fixed to  a  comedy,  entitled, 

The  Two  Merry  Milkmaids.  4to. 
1620 ; 

but  "I  cannot  (says  Mr.  Baker) 
"  either  from  these  letters,  from 
"  the  date,  or  from  any  other  cir- 
"  cumstance  belonging  to  this 
"  piece,  attribute  it  to  any  known 
"  author."  ■ — We  would  submit, 
as  a  mere  probable  conjecture, 
whether  these  initials  might  not 
mean  John  Cooke,  author  of 
Greens  Tu  Quoque? 

C.  J.  The  same  letters  are  sub- 
scribed to  the  dedication  of 

The  Modem  Receipt.  C.  12mo. 
1739. 

C.  R.  These  letters  stand  in 
the  title-page  to  a  translation  of  a 
Latin  play,  written  by  R.  Ruggles, 
entitled, 

Ignoramus.  C. 
translated  by  R.  C.  who  is  there 
said  to  have  been  some  time  mas- 
ter or  arts  in  Magdalen  College,  in 
Oxford ;  and  which  letters  Coxeter, 
in  a  MS.  note,  explains  to  stand 
for  Robert  Codrington. 

The    writers,     however,    have 
made  a  strange  jumble  of  errors  in 
vol.  1. 


C  A  L 


regard  to  this  translator  and  the 
author  of  an  historical  play,  called 

Alphonsus,  King  of  Arragon. 
Langbaine  and  Gildon  having 
equally  run  into  the  error  of  ascrib- 
ing both  these  plays  to  the  same 
author  ;  with  this  only  difference, 
that  the  first  has  distinguished  his 
name  by  the  letters  R.  C.  and  the 
latter  by  those  of  R.  G.  But  as 
the  date  of  publication  of  these 
two  pieces  has  a  difference  of  up- 
wards of  sixty  years,  Alphonsus  be- 
ing published  in  I5gg,  and  Ignora- 
mus not  till  1662,  it  is  not  very 
probable  that  they  should  both  be 
the  work  of  one  person.  We  have 
therefore  thought  it  most  reason- 
able to  follow  the  authority  of 
Langbaine,  as  explained  by  Coxe- 
ter, for  the  translator  of  the  latter; 
and  that  of  Gildon,  with  which 
Jacob  likewise  acquiesces,  for  the 
author  of  the  former. 

Calfhill,  James,  a  native  of 
Shropshire.  He  was  admitted  at 
Oxford  1545,  student  of  Christ 
Church  1548,  A.M.  1552,  second 
canon  of  Christ  Church  1560, 
D.D.  dean  of  Bocking,  and  arch- 
deacon of  Colchester,  and  norai- 

G 


82 

c:  A  P 

nafted  to  the  see  of  Worcester, 
1.5/0,  but  died  before  consecra- 
tion.    He  wrote 

Progne,  a  tragedy,  in  Latin, 
1506;  but  whether  it  was  ever 
printed  is  not  known.  He  was 
also  the  author  of,  1.  A  Latin 
Poem  on  the  Death  of  the  Sons  of 
the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  of  the  Sweat- 
ing Sickness,  1551.  2.  ".Querela 
"  Oxon.  Acad,  ad  Cantabrigiam, 
-'  1552,"  4to.  3.  "Hist.  deEx- 
"  humationeCafharinse  nuperUx- 
"  oris  Pet.  Martyris,  1562,"  4to. 
He  died  in  15/0.  Ant.  Wood 
says,  that  "  he  was  in  his  younger 
' '  days  a  noted  poet  and  comedian  ; 
"  and  in  his  elder,  an  exact  dispu- 
•'  tant,  and  had  an  excellent  fa- 
"  culty  in  speaking  and  preach- 

"  ing-" 

Cambell,  Mr.  In  Mears's 
Catalogue  this  name  is  put  to  a 
play,  which  we  believe  was  never 
printed,  entitled 

The  Rover  reclaim' d ;  or,  The 
Man  of  Mode  a  Coxcomb.     C. 

Campion,  Thomas,  was  a  phy- 
sician in  the  reign  of  King  James 
the  First,  and  was  the  author  of, 

1.  A  Mask,  presented  at  White- 
hall on  Tivelfth  Night,  on  the  Mar- 
riage of  Lord  Hayes  and  the  Daugh- 
ter and  Heir  of  Lord  Denny.  4to. 
1607. 

2.  Entertainment  gwen  by  Lord 
Knowles,  at  Cawsome  House,  near 
Reading,  to  Queen  Anne,  in  her 
Progress  to  the  Bath.     4to.  1613. 

3.  A  Mask,  presented  at  White- 
hall on  St.  Stephen's  Night,  on  the 
Marriage  of  the  Earl  of  Somerset 
and  Lady  Frances  Howard.  4to. 
1614. 

Cafell,  Edward.  This  gen- 
tleman appears  to  have  been  of 
the  county  of  Suffolk,  and  received- 
his  education  at  the  school  of  Bury 
St.  Edmonds,  In  the  dedication 
of  his  edition   of  Shakspeare   to 


C  A  It 

the  Duke  of  Grafton  he  obsen<- 
that  his  father  and  the  grandfather 
of  his  Grace  were  friends  j  and  to 
the  patronage  of  the  deceased  no- 
bleman he  owed  the  leisure  which 
enabled  him  to  bestow  the  atten- 
tion of  twenty  years  on  that  work. 
He  was  deputy-inspector  of  plays, 
a  situation  of  some  profit,  and 
died  Feb.  24,  1/S1.  He  (with 
the  assistance  of  Mr.  Garrick)  al- 
tered one  play  from  Shakspeare, 
which  was  performed  at  Drury 
Lane,  viz. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra.  Hist. 
Play.     8vo.  1/58. 

Since  his  death,  his  School  of 
Shakspeare  has  been  published,  in 
three  vols.  4to.  1/83. 

Carew,  Lady  Elizabeth. 
This  lady  flourished  in  the  reign  of 
King  James  I.  and  must  have  been 
of  distinction  in  her  time ;  but 
from  what  family  she  was  descend- 
ed, or  what  part  of  the  kingdom 
claimed  the  honour  of  her  birth , 
we  have  not  been  able  to  discover. 
We  find,  however,  some  of  her 
contemporaries  dedicating  their 
works  to  her ;  and  she  herself  has 
written  one  dramatic  piece,  en- 
titled 

Mariam,  the  fair  Queen  of  Jewry. 
Trag.  4to.  1613. 
Oldys,  however,  in  his  MS.  note*; 
on  Langbaine,  supposes  her  name 
should  be  spelt  Cary,  and  that  she 
was  the  wife  of  Sir  Henry  Cary. 

Carew,  Thomas.  This  gen- 
tleman was  descended  from  a  very 
ancient  and  honourable  family  of 
the  name,  whose  establishment 
had  long  been  in  the  county  of 
Devon.  He  flourished  in  the  reign 
of  King  Charles  I.  and  was  bro- 
ther to  Matthew  Carew,  who,  in 
the  time  of  the  rebellion,  appeared 
to  have  been  very  strongly  at- 
tached to  the  cause  of  that  unfor- 
tunate prince.      Our  author   re- 


83 


CAR 

ceived  the  rudiments  of  his  edu- 
cation in  Corpus  Christi  College, 
Cambridge ;  but  it  does  not  ap- 
pear that  he  either  took  any  de- 
gree there,  or  was  even  matricu- 
Jated  as  a  member.  Afterwards, 
however,  having  greatly  improved 
himself  by  travelling  abroad,  and 
by  the  conversation  of  ingenious 
men  at  home,  he  acquired  a  great 
reputation  for  his  wit  and  poetical 
abilities;  which  being  taken  notice 
of  at  court,  he  was  made  a  gen- 
tleman of  the  privy  chamber,  and 
sewer  in  ordinary  to  the  King,  with 
whom  he  stood  very  high  in  fa- 
vour, insomuch  that  to  the  last  he 
esteemed  him  as  one  of  the  most 
deserving  wits  about  his  court : 
nay,  so  favourable  an  opinion  did 
he  entertain  of  his  abilities  in  that 
respect,  that  it  was  by  His  Ma- 
jesty's peculiar  command  that  he 
undertook  the  only  dramatic  piece 
he  appears  to  have  written,  and 
which  is  entitled 

Caelum  Britannicum.  A  Masque. 
4to.  1634. 

With  a  reference  to  which  cir- 
cumstance he  has  prefixed  to  it  the 
following  modest  distich  : 

"  Non  habet  ingtnium  ;    Ci-tsar  S(J  jussit ; 

habebo  : 
"  Cur    me  funs?   vegem,    posse    quod  ille 

put  at  f" 

Lord  Clarendon  observes,  that 
"  he  was  a  person  of  a  pleasant 
"  and  facetious  wit,  and  made 
**.  many  poems  (especially  in  the 
"  amorous  way),  which,  for  the 
"  sharpness  of  the  fancy,  and  the 
"  elegancy  of  the  language  in 
"  which  that  fancy  was  spread, 
"  were  at  least  equal,  if  not  su- 
"  perior,  to  any  at  that  time  :  but 
"  his  glory  was,  that,  a'";er  fifty 
"  years  of  his  life,  spent  with  less 
**  severity  or  exactness  than  it 
"  ought  to  have  been,  he'died 
"  with  the  greatest  remorse   for 


CAR 


"  that  license,  and  with  the  great- 
"  est  manifestation  of  Christianity 
"  that  his  best  friends  could  de- 
"  sire." 

He  was  very  much  esteemed 
and  respected  by  his  contemporary 
poets,  particularly  by  Ben  Jonson  : 
yet,  from  a  stanza  relating  to  him 
in  Sir  John  Suckling's  Session  of 
the  Poets,  he  appears  to  have  been 
thought  a  studied  laborious  writer; 
for,  though  that  gentleman  was  his 
friend,  and  had  much  kindness  for 
him,  yet  he  could  not  help  cha- 
racterizing him  as  follows  : 

"  Tom  Carew  wa*  next,  but  he  had  a 

fault 
"  That   would  not   well  stand   with  a 

laurciit  ; 
"  His  Muse  was  hide-bound,  and  the 

issue  of 's  brain 
"  Was  seldom  brought  forth  but  with 

trouble  and  pain." 

Of  this  author,  however,  we 
agree  in  opinion  with  Mr.  Head- 
ley  :  "  Sprightly,  polished,  and 
"  perspicuous,  every  part  of  his 
"  works  displays  the  man  of  sense, 
"  gallantry,  and  breeding;  indeed 
"  many  of  his  productions  have  a 
"  certain  happy  finish,  and  betray 
"  a  dexterity  both  of  thought  and 
"  expression,  much  superior  to  any 
"  thing  of  his  contemporaries, 
"  and,  on  similar  subjects,  rarely 
"  surpassed  by  his  successors.  Ca- 
"  rew  has  the  ease  without  the 
*'  pedantry  of  Waller,  and  perhaps 
"  less  conceit.  He  reminds  us  of 
"  the  best  manner  of  Lord  Lyt- 
"  telton.  Waller  is  too  exclu- 
"  sively  considered  as  the  first 
''  man  who  brought  versification 
"  to  any  thing  lik3  its  present 
"  standard.  Carew's  pretensions 
"  to  the  same  merit  are  seldom 
"  sufficiently  either  considered  or 
"  allowed.  Though  love  had  long 
"  before  softened  us  into  civility, 
"  yet  it  was  of  a  formal,  ostenta- 

G  2 


84 
CAR 
*'  liouSj  and  romantic  cast;  and, 
"  with  a  very  few  exceptions,  its 
"  effects  upon  composition  were 
"similar   to   those    on    manners. 
"  Something  more  light,  unaffect- 
"  ed,  and  alluring,  was  still  want- 
"  ing;  in  every  thing  but  sincerity 
ft  of    intention    it  was  deticient. 
"  Panegyric,  declamatory  and  nau- 
"  seous,  was  rated   by   those   to 
"  whom  addressed,  on  the  prin- 
"  ciple    of     Rubens's    taste    for 
"  beauty,  by  its  quantity,  not  its 
"  elegance.  Satire,  dealing  in  ran- 
"  cour  rather  than   reproof,  was 
"  more  inclined  tolash  than  to  laugh 
<e  us  out  of  our  vices  ;  and  near- 
"  ly  counteracted   her    intentions 
"by  her  want  of  good  manners. 
**  Carew  and  Waller  jointly  began 
*(  to  remedy   these   defects.      In 
•f  them,    gallantry,    for  the  first 
",  time,  was  accompanied  by  the 
"  graces;  the  fulsomeness of  pane- 
"  gyric  forgot  in  its  gentility,  and 
"  the  edge  of  satire  rendered  keen- 
"  er  in  proportion  to  its  smooth- 
"  ness." 

In  Lloyd's  Worthies,  Carew  is 
called  "  elaborate  and  accurate." 
However  the  fact  might  be,  the 
internal  evidence  of  his  poems 
says  no  such  thing.  Hume  has 
properly  remarked,  that  Wal- 
ler's pieces  "  aspire  not  to  the 
"  sublime,  still  less  to  the  pathe- 
"  tic."  Carew,  in  his  beautiful 
Masque,  has  given  instances  of  the 
former ;  and,  in  his  Epitaph  on 
Lady  Mary  Yilliers,  eminently  of 
the  latter. 

Phillips  says  of  Carew,  that  "  he 
tf  was  reckoned  among  the  chief- 
"  est  of  his  time  for  delicacy  of 
".  wit  and  poetic  fancy ;  by  the 
<f  strength  of  which  his  extant 
"  poems  still  maintain  their  fame 
"  amidst  the  curious  of  the  present 
*'.  age." 


CAR 

He  appears  to  have  died  in  the 
year  iO'SQ. 

Cakey,  Heney,  was  the  ille- 
gitimate   son    of    George    Savile, 
Marquis  of  Halifax ;   from  whom 
and  from  his  family  he  received  a 
handsome    annuity    to    the    time 
of  his  death.     It  is  said  there  were 
private  reasons  why  he  did  not  re- 
tain the  name  of  Savile  himself, 
though  he  annexed  it  to  the  Chris- 
tian names  of  all  the  male  part  of 
his  own  family.     He  was  a  musi- 
cian by  profession,  and  one  of  lh«, 
lower  order  of  poets :  his  first  pre- 
ceptor in  music  was  Olaus  West- 
einson    Linnert,    a    German ;    he 
received  further  instructions  from 
Roseingrave  ;     and,    lastly,    was 
in  some  sort  a  disciple  of  Gemini- 
ani.     Being  but  slenderly  accom- 
plished in  his  art,  his  chief  em- 
ployment was  teaching  at  board- 
ing-schools, and  among  people  of 
middling  rank  in  private  families. 
Though  he  had  but  little  skill  in 
music,  he  had  a  prolific  invention, 
and  very  early  in  his  life  distin- 
guished himself  by  the  composition 
of  songs,  being  the  author  both  of 
the  words  and   the  music.     One 
of  these,  beginning  "  Of  all  the 
"  girls  that  are  so  smart,"  is  said 
to  have  pleased  Mr.  Addison  so 
much,    that  he  more  than   once 
vouchsafed  to  commend  it.     Bub 
the  most  successful  effort   in  his 
art   was    the   celebrated    popular 
song  of  "  God  save  great  George 
"  our  King,"  of  which   both  the 
words  and  melody  were  by  him  ; 
the  bass  being  the  composition  of 
Mr.  John   Smith.     This  was  in- 
tended as  part  of  a  birth-day  ode. 
He  was  also  the  principal  projector 
of  the  fund  for  decayed  musicians, 
their  widows  and  children. 

However  deficient  Carey  might 
ba  in  genius  in  his  profession,  ha 


CAR 

Kas  3  fortunate  writer  and  com- 
poser for  the  stage.  The  dramatic 
pieces  which  he  produced  were 
generally  successful,  and  some  of 
them  are  still  favourably  received 
by  the  public.  He  was  a  man 
who  possessed  a  good  deal  of  low 
humour ;  and  his  poem  called 
Namby  Pamhj,  in  ridicule  of  Am- 
brose Philips,  was  honoured  by  the 
approbation  of  Mr.  Pope,  whose 
sentiments  concerning  it  were 
mentioned  in  terms  of  exultation 
by  the  author  several  years  before 
his  death. 

As  the  qualities' that  Carey  was 
endowed  with  were  such  as  ren- 
dered him  an  entertaining  com- 
panion, it  is  no  wonder  he  should 
be,  as  he  frequently  was,  in  straits. 
He  therefore,  in  his  difficulties, 
had  recourse  to  his  friends,  whose 
bounty  he  experienced  in  sub- 
scriptions for  the  works  which  he 
from  time  to  time  published,  and 
at  benefits  at  the  theatre,  where  he 
once,  if  not  oftener,  appeared  on 
tbe  stage.  He  was,  however,  still 
unhappy,  though  the  cause  of  it  is 
not  certainly  known.  It  has  been 
suggested  by  some  to  have  been 
occasioned  by  the  malevolence  of 
those  of  his  own  profession ;  by 
others,  by  domestic  uneasiness ; 
and  some  ascribe  it  chiefly  to  his 
embarrassed  circumstances.  To 
whatever  it  was  owing,  his  ca- 
tastrophe was  shocking.  In  a  fit 
of  despair,  he  laid  violent  hands 
upon  himself,  on  the  4th  of.  Oc- 
tober 1743,  at  his  house  in  War- 
ner Street,  'Coldbath  Fields;  and, 
by  means  of  a  halter,  put  a  period 
to  a  life  which  had  been  led  with- 
out reproach. 

"  As  a  musician  (Sir  John  Haw- 
"  kins  observes)  Carey  seems  to 
«f  have,  been  of  the  first  of  the 
"  lowest  rank  ;  and  as  a  poet,  the 
ts  last  of  that  class  of  which  Burfey 


85 

CAR 

"  was  the  first;  with  this  differ- 
"  ence,  that  in  all  the  songs  and 
"  poems  written  by  him  on  wine, 
"  love,  and  such  kinds  of  subjects, 
"  he  seems  to  have  manifested" an 
"  inviolable  regard  for  decency 
"  and  good-manners." 
He  wrote, 

1.  Hfinging  jan'd  Marriage  ;  or, 
The  Dead  Man's  Wedding.  Farce, 
12mo.  1/22. 

2.  The  Contrivances.  F.  12mo. 
1715. 

3.  Amelia.    O.     Svo.  1732. 

4.  Teraminia.     O.     Svo.  1.732. 

5.  Chrononholonthologos.  B.  T. 
Svo.  1734. 

6.  The  Wonder .'  An  Honest 
Yorkshire/nan.  Bal.Op.  Svo.  1/3(3. 

7.  The  Dragon  oj'l'/antley.  Bur- 
lesque Op.     Svo.  1/37- 

S.  Margery  ;  or,  A  tvorse  Plague 
than  the  Dragon.  Burlesque  Op. 
Svo.  173S. 

9.  Betty;  or  ,The  Country  Bum  p-  . 
kins.     B.  F.     1739.     N.P. 

10.  Nancy ;    or,    The  Parting    . 
Lovers.     M.  I.    8vo.  1739.     [Af- 
terwards brought    out  under  the 
title  of  The  Press- Gang.] 

All  these,  except  No.  1  and 
No.  9,  were  published  by  sub-  . 
scription  in  a  4to.  volume,  1743, 
dedicated  to  the  Countess  of  Dal-, 
keith.  But  in  this  collection, 
No.  8,  instead  of  Margery,  is  en- 
titled The  Dragoness. 

Whincop  says  he  wrote  a  farce 
called  .  - 

The  Wife  well  managed.. 

We  believe  this  is  confounded 
with  one  of  the  same,  name  by'  , 
Mrs.  Centlivre. 

Carey,  Henry  Lucius,  Lord 
ViscountFalkl  ,nd.  This  learn- 
ed nobleman,  whom  we  find  so 
justly  celebrated  by  Mr  Cowley, 
was  the  onlv  sou  of  Sir  Lucius 
Carey,  the  great  Lird  Falkland, 
who  died  gloriously  in  the  field,  of 


Sd 
CAR 
honour,  and  in  the  support  of  his 
King,  at  the  famous  battle  of 
Newbury,  Sept.  20,  1643.  His 
mother's  name  was  Lettice,  a 
daughter  of  Sir  Richard  Morrison. 
In  what  year  he  was  born  we  have 
not  been  able  to  trace,  but  find 
him  to  have  married  Margaret, 
daughter  of"  Anthony  Hu'ngerford, 
Esq.  and  that  he  died  in  1663. 
He  seems  to  have  inherited  the 
virtues  of  his  father,  having  ren- 
dered himself  eminent  and  very 
greatly  respected  both  at  court, 
in  the  senate,  and  in  his  county, 
Oxfordshire,  of  which  he  was  lord- 
lieutenant,  not  only  for  his  ex- 
traordinary parts,  but  also  for  his 
heroic  spirit.  Langbaine  tells  us, 
that  he  was  cut  off  in  the  prime 
of  his  years  (which  indeed  he  must 
have  been,  his  father  having  been 
no  more  than  thirty-four  years  of 
age  when  he  was  killed,  and  this 
son  surviving  him  only  by  twenty 
years),  and  that  he  was  as  much 
missed  and  regretted  when  dead, 
as  he  had  been  beloved  and  re- 
spected while  living.  He  left  one 
play  behind  him,  which,  although 
it  contains  a  great  deal  of  true 
•wit  and  satire,  yet  it  seems  du- 
bious whether  it  was  ever  repre- 
sented or  not,  as  the  date  of  its 
publication  is  subsequent  to  that 
of  its  author's  death.  It  is  en- 
titled 

The  Marriage  Night.  T.  4to. 
1664. 

Mr.  Walpole  relates  the  follow- 
ing anecdote  of  this  nobleman  ; 
that  being  "  brought  early  into 
•«  the  House  of  Commons,  and  a 
"  grave  senator  objecting  to  his 
"  youth,  and  to  his  not  looking 
"  as  if  he  had  sowed  his  wild  oats; 
"  he  replied  with  great  quick- 
"  ness,  '  Then  I  am  come  to  the 
"  properest  place,  where  are  so 
"  many  geese  to  pick  them  up'/' 


CAR 

Carey,  George  Savile,  was 
a  posthumous  son  of  Henry  Carey, 
of  whom  an  account   is  given  in 
the  last  article  but  one.    The  pre- 
sent writer  appears  to  have  inhe- 
rited a  large  portion  of  his  father's 
misfortunes.      He   was    intended 
for  a   printer ;    but,    like    many 
others  of  that  profession,  he  con- 
ceived a   penchant  for  the  stage, 
which  he  attempted  early  in  lift*, 
but   without    experiencing    suffi- 
cient success  to   induce  a  perse- 
verance in  theatrical  pursuits.   His 
talents,  and   musical   taste,  how- 
ever, were  such    as    might   have 
raised  him  to  eminence,  had  he 
cultivated  them  with  diligence,  or 
had  he  not  been  obliged  "  to  pro- 
"  vide  for  the  day  that  was  pass- 
"  ing  over  him."     At  the  period 
of   his    death,   which    happened 
July  14,   1807,  he  had  supported 
himself  upwards  of  forty  years  in 
the  character  of  a  public  lecturer. 
He  was  the  literary  parent  of  a 
vast  number  of  lyric  compositions  j 
the  whole  of  which  are  calculated 
to  awaken  patriotic,  generous,  and 
lively  emotions.     He  was  in  his 
sixty-fourth  year ;   and,  perhaps, 
his  death  was  fortunate.     He  had 
announced  an  Entertainment  to  be 
exhibited  for  the  evening  on  which 
he  died ;    but   a  paralytic  stroke 
silenced  for  ever  that  voice  which 
had  so  often  excited  the  warmest 
feelings  of  approbation.     The  in- 
firmities of  age  had  for  some  time 
been  gathering  upon  him  ;  and,  if 
he  had  lived  much  longer,  it  is 
probable  that  he  could  not  have 
subsisted  by  his  talents,  but  must 
have  sunk  into  one  of  the  common 
asylums   of  misfortune ;    as,  like 
his  father,   he  died  pennyless,  and 
■was  buried  bya  subscription  among 
his  friends.     He  was  ouo  season, 
at  least,  on  the  stage  ift  Covent 
Garden,  but  made  no  figure  as  a 


87 


C  A  R 

player,  although  his  powers  of 
imitation  were  very  considerable. 
He  is  the  author  of  the  following 
dramatic  performances : 

1.  The Inoculator.  C.  8vo.l/6f5. 

2.  The  Cottagers.  O.  Svo. 1/66. 

3.  Liberty  chastised;  or,  Patriot- 
ism in  Chains.  T.  C.  P.  F.  Svo. 
J  708. 

4.  Shakspearcs  Jubilee.  M.  Svo. 
1/69- 

5.  The  Old  Tubmen  ivcatherwise. 
Int.     Svo.  1""0. 

6.  The  Magic  Girdle.  Burl.  4to. 
1770. 

7.  The  Kutlrown'Maid.  C.  O. 
12mo.  1770. 

S.  Nolle  Pedlar.  Bnrl.  4to.l}70. 

9.  The  Dupes  of  Fancy .  F.  Svo. 
1792. 

This  child  of  genius,  and  of 
hereditary  misfortune,  was  also 
the  author  of  Analects  in  Prose  and 
Verse,  chiefly  dramatical,  satirical, 
and  pastoral,  in  2  vols.  1771  ;  A 
Lecture  on  Mimicry,  as  it  was  de- 
livered, with  great  applause,  at  the 
theatres  in  Covent  Garden  and  the 
Haymarket,  &c.  l/~6;  A  Rural 
Ramble,  to  which  is  annexed  a 
Poetical  Tag,  or  Brighthelmstone 
Guide,  in  1777 >  and  Balnea;  be- 
ing sketches  of  the  different  water- 
ing-places in  England,  in  1799- 
He  wrote  besides  a  great  variety 
of  songs;  in  which,  like  his  fa- 
ther too,  he  never  once  trespassed 
on  decency  and  good-manners. 

Carlell,  LonowicK.  This 
gentleman  was  a  courtier,  who 
lived  in  the  reigns  both  of  King 
Charles  the  First  and  Second. 
He  had  various  places  at  court, 
being  gentleman  of  the  bows  to 
King  Charles  I.  groom  of  the 
King's  and  Queen's  privy  cham- 
ber, and  served  the  Queen  Mother 
many  years.  He  wrote  several 
dramatic  pieces,  most  of  which 
were  acted  with  considerable  ap- 


C  A  It 


plause.     Their  titles  are  as  fol- 
low: 

1.  Deserving  Favourite.     T.  C. 
4 to.  I629. 

2.  Arviragus  and  Philicia.  T.  C. 
in  two  Parts.     l2mo.  l63p. 

3.  Passionate  Lovers.  T.  C.  in 
two  Parts.     4to.  1655. 

4.  Fool  would  be  a  Favourite. 
T.  C.     Svo.  Id57. 

5.  Osmond  the  Great  Turk.  T 
Svo.  1657. 

6.  Heradius.     T.     4to.  166-1. 
7-  Spartan  Ladies.    Com.     Not 

printed. 

The  first  six  of  these  plays  only, 
in  general,  are  ascribed  to  this  au- 
thor; as  to  the  last-mentioned  one, 
it  is  named  only  in  a  catalogue  at 
theend  of  an  edition  of  Middleton's 
More  Dissemblers  besides  Women. 
But  Winstanley,  who  has  omitted 
the  Heraclius,  which  undoubtedly 
was  Mr.  Carlell's,  has  as  errone- 
ously attributed  to  him  a  tragedy, 
written  by  Dr.  Lodge,  entitled 

Marius  and  Sylla  (i.  e.  The 
Wounds  of  Civil  War) . 

Careile,  James,  was  a  native 
of  Lancashire,  and,  in  the  earlier 
parts  of  his  life,  followed  the  pro- 
fession of  a  player;  but  after- 
wards, preferring  the  active  stage 
of  the  real  world  to  the  feigned 
affairs  of  the  theatrical  one,  and 
choosing  rather  to  be,  than  to  per- 
sonate, a  hero,  he  quitted  that  em- 
ployment, and  took  up  arms  in 
the  defence  of  his  country's  reli- 
gion and  liberties,  in  the  Irish  wars, 
under  King  William  III.  to  which 
glorious  cause  he  resigned  himself 
a  willing  sacrifice,  dying  in  the  bed 
of  honour,  at  the  famous  battle  of 
Aughrim,  on  the  11th  of  July 
1691.  He  left  behind  him  one 
dramatic  piece,  which  had  been, 
well  received,  entitled 

The.  Fortune  Hunters.    C.    4^.o,, 
I689. 
M 


ss 
CAR 
Carlisle, Earl  of.  See  How-    ' 
ard,  Frederic'. 

Carpentek,    Richard.     This 
author  was  born  about  the  begin- 
ning   of  King   James    I.'s    reign, 
and  lived  till  towards  the  end  of 
Charles  II. 's,  being  alive  at  Ayles- 
bury, in  Bucks,  in  1670.     He  re- 
ceived his  fitst  rudiments  of  edu- 
cation at  Eton  School,  from  whence 
he  was  removed  to  Cambridge,  and 
was   elected  a  scholar  of  King's 
College    in   that  university,  anno 
1623.  Here  he  stayed  two  or  three 
years  ;    after  which  he  not  only 
quitted  that,  but  also  his  country 
and   friends,    went    abroad,    and 
studied  in  Flanders,  France,  Spain, 
and  Italy,  and  at  length  took  or- 
ders in  the  Romish  church  from 
the  hands  of  the  Pope's  substitute 
at  Rome,  and,  becoming  a  monk 
of  the  Benedictine  order,  was  soon 
after  sent  into  England,  in  order 
to  gain   proselytes.     But  he  had 
scarcely  been  a  year  and  a  half  in 
this   employment    before   he    re- 
turned to  the  Protestant  religion, 
and  accepted   of  the  vicarage  of 
Poling,  near   Arundel  Castle,    in 
Sussex,  on  which  account  he  re- 
ceived many  affronts  from  the  Ro- 
mish priests  who  resided  in  those 
parts  ;   notwithstanding  which,  in 
the  time  of  the  civil  war,  he  went 
over   to   Paris,    and    there    com- 
menced a  railer  against  the  Pro- 
testants.    On  his  first  conversion 
from  popery,  he  published,  by  or- 
der of  the  House  of  Commons,  a 
volume  entitled  "  Experience,  His- 
"  tone,  andDivinitie.  Divided  into 
"  five  Books.    Written  by  Richard 
"  Carpenter,  Vicar  of  Poling,  a 
"  small  and  obscure  Village  by  the 
"  Sea-side,  neere  to  Arundel,  in 
"  Sussex;  who  beingfirst  a  Scholar 
"  of  Eaton  College,  and  afterwards 
"  a  Student  in  Cambridge,,  iorsooke 
"  the  University,  and  immediately 


C  A  R 

:c  travelled,   in  his   raw,  greene, 
"  and  ignorant  Yeares,  beyond  the 
"  Seas  ;  and  studied  in  Flanders, 
"  Artois,  France,  Spain,  Italy,  and 
"  atlength  received  Orders  in  Rome 
"  by  the  Hands  of  the  Pope's  Sub- 
"  stitute :    and   was  sent  by   the 
"  Pope   into  England   to  pervert 
"  Soules,  where  he  preached  and 
"  laboured,  in  that  perverse  Way, 
"  the  Space  of  a  Yeare,  and  up-* 
"  wards :  and  is  now  at  last,  by 
e<  the  speciall  Favour  of  God,  re- 
"  conciled  to  the  faire  Church  of 
"  Christ  in  England,"  8vo.  1642  5 
containing    many   curious     anec- 
dotes of  himself  and  the  Roman 
Catholics.     On  his  return  to  Eng- 
land, he  again  became  a  Protest- 
ant ;  but  revolted  once  more  be- 
fore his  death  to  popery,  in  which 
persuasion  he  died.   Anth.aWood, 
who  was  personally  acquainted  with 
him,  says  of  him,  "  that  he  was 
"  a  fantastical  man,  that  changed 
"  his  mind  with  his  clothes  5  and 
"  that  for  his  juggles  and  tricks  in 
"  matters  of  religion  he  was  es- 
"  teemed  a   theological   mounte- 
"  bank."   And  indeed  the  account 
already  given  of  his  leaving  both 
country  and   religion,  of  his  re- 
turning to  them  both,  and  again 
forsaking  them,    seems  perfectly 
to  justify  that  character  of  him. 
(See   Athen.    Oxonienses,    vol.   i. 
p.  439.) 

He  has  moreover  left  behind 
him  one  dramatic  piece,  which, 
from  its  very  title,  conveys  to  us 
an  idea  of  its  having  been  written 
by  one  who,  if  not  an  enthusiast, 
must  at  least  have  been  a  warm 
controvertist  in  religion,  since  he 
could  be  induced  to  make  such 
controversy  the  basis  of  a  work, 
which,  notwithstanding  the  pro- 
priety of  blending  instruction  with 
amusement  in  the  superstructure, 
is  ever  expected  to  have  its  found- 


89 


CAR 

laid    in   the  latter. 


It   is 


atmn 
called 

The  Pragmatical  Jesuit  new  lea- 
vened. C.  4;o.  N.  D. 
and  is  said  in  the  title-page  to  be  a 
play  tending  to  morality  and  vir- 
tue. To  this  comedy  his  picture 
is  prefixed,  in  a  lay  habit ;  where- 
as before  another  work,  published 
by  him,  he  is  represented  as  a 
formal  clergyman,  and  with  a  very 
grave  and  mortified  countenance. 

Carr,  Rev.  Dr.  John'.  This 
author  deservedly  aco^med  great 
reputation  as  master  of  the  school 
at  Hertford,  and  by  a  happy  trans- 
lation of  Lucian.  He  likewise 
published  several  poems  and  other 
pieces,  and  was  said  to  be  the 
writer  of  one  play,  viz. 

Eppomna.     D.  E.     8vo.  1/05. 
He  died  Jdy  6,  1S07,  aged  76. 

Carr,  Robert,  while  at  West- 
minster School,  joined  with  Sa- 
muel Hayes  in  writing  one  play, 
called 

Eugenia.     T.     Svo.  1766. 
Carr,  Sir  John,  Knt.  was  bred 
to  the  law  ;  but  a  delicate  state  of 
health  obliged  him   to  relinquish 
the  profession,    and  to   have  re- 
course  to   travel.      This   at  once 
tended  to  strengthen  his  constitu- 
tion, and  enlarge   his  knowledge 
of  the  world.     Being   a  man    of 
observation  and  research,  he  turn- 
ed his  time  to  account,  by  record- 
ing the  occurrences  of  his  several 
tours,  in   France,   Holland,  Ger- 
many, Sweden,  Ireland,  Sec.  and 
afterwards  giving  them  to  the  pub- 
lic, in  several  volumes,  which  dis- 
play, in  a  style  of  agreeable  vivacity, 
much  good-nature,  liberality,  and 
benevolence..   His  Stranger  in  Ire- 
land, we  believe,    procured   him 
the  honour  of  knighthood  from  the 
Lord  Lieutenant.     Sir  John,  be- 
sides having  published  several  po- 


C  A  R 

ems,  claims  a  place  in  this  work 
as  author  of 

The  Sea-side  Hero.  D.  Svo. 
1S04. 

Carr,  .     This   writer,    a 

performer  in  the  York  and  Hull 
company,  is  the  author  of, 

1.  St.  Margaret's  Cave.  Vh.v. 
1S05.     N.  P. 

2.  The  Towers  of  Urbandine. 
Play.     !^ot  printed. 

Carter,  J.  Of  this  person 
we  can  learn  Hothing,  but  that  he 
wrote 

Allerta.  T.  8vo.  17S7. 
Cartwright,  George.  Of 
this  gentleman  we  know  no  more 
than  that  he  lived  at  Fulham, 
and  has  obliged  the  world  with  one 
play,  entitled 

The  Heroic  Lover.  Trag.  8vo> 
100"  1. 

Langbaine  has  omitted  any  men- 
tion of  this  piece  or  its  author. 

Cartwright,William.  There 
is  some  degree  of  contest  among  the 
biographers  concerning  the  place 
of  this  author's  nativity,  and  the 
name  of  his  father;  Lloyd,  in  his 
Memoirs,  declaring  him  to  be  tin. 
son  of  Thomas  Cartwright,  of  Bur- 
ford,    in   Oxfordshire,    and   born 
Aug.  1(5,   1615.     Whereas  "Wood, 
in  his  Athen.  Oxon.  (which,  we 
must  confess,  we  take  to  be.  the 
better   authority),    tells    us,  that 
he  was  born  at  Northway,  near 
Tewksbury,  in  Gloucestershire,  in 
September  l6ll,  and  that  his  fa- 
ther's  name   was  William ;    and 
adds,  that  the  father,  having  dis- 
sipated a  fair  inheritance  he  knew 
not  how,  was  at  last  reduced  to 
turn  innkeeper  at  Cirencester.    By 
this  way  of  life,  however,    it  is 
probable   he   healed    his    broken 
fortune,  as  we  find  him  afterwards 
bestowing  a  liberal  education  on 
his  son,  who  being  a  lad  of  a  pro- 


00 


C  A  R 

mising  genius,  lie  procured  him 
first  to  be  initiated  into  learning 

by  Mr.  Topp,  master  of  the  free- 
school  at  Cirencester  :  from  thence 
he  was  removed  to  Westmiuster, 
as  a  King's  scholar,  and  studied 
under  the  learned  Dr.  Osbaldiston ; 
from  thence,  in  lt)28,  he  went  to 
the  university  of  Oxford,  where 
he  was  chosen  a  student  of  Christ- 
church,  and  placed  under  the  care 
of  Mr.  Tarrent.  Here  he  pur- 
sued his  studies  with  unwearied 
diligence  andrapidity.went  through 
the  classes  of  logic  and  philosophy, 
took  the  degrees  of  bachelor  and 
master  of  arts,  entered  into  holy 
orders,  in  which  he  soon  became 
eminent  for  his  preaching,  and  was 
made  metaphysical  reader,  in  the 
room  of  Mr.  Thomas  Barlow,  of 
Queen's  College,  who  afterwards 
became  Bishop  of  Lincoln.  In 
this  office  also  he  acquired  great 
reputation,  both  for  his  literary 
knowledge  and  his  oratorical  en- 
dowments. 

In  1642,  he  was  promoted  to  the 
place  of  succentor  to  the  cathedral 
of  Salisbury  3  and  on  the  12th  of 
April  1643,  was  elected  junior 
proctor  of  the  university.  Yet,  as 
if  he  had  in  so  short  a  period  run 
the  full  race  of  learning,  and  reach- 
ed the  goal  of  perfection,  beyond 
which  he  could  go  no  further,  he 
was  taken  out  of  this  world  on  the 
29th  of  November  following,  10'43, 
by  a  malignant  fever  which  then 
reigned  at  Oxford,  was  known  by 
the  name  of  the  camp  disease,  and 
was  fatal  to  numbers  besides. 

No  man  perhaps  ever  acquired 
an  earlier  fame  than  this  amiable 
youth,  or,  leaving  the  world  at  a 
time  of  life  when  men  in  general 
begin  but  to  be  known,  had  ob- 
tained so  universal  a  homage  to  his 
memory  from  his  contemporaries: 
for  though,  according  to  the  ear- 


C  A  R 
licst  account  of  his  birth,  he  couM 
but  have  entered  into  his  thirty- 
third  year  (and  the  publisher  of 
his  poems  says,  as  Wood  also  im- 
plies, that  he  died  at  thirty),  he 
was  most  universally  lamented ; 
and  even  the  King  and  Queen,  who 
were  then  at  Oxford,  showed  much 
anxiety  during  his  illness,  and 
were  greatly  afflicted  at  his  death. 

The  character  given  of  him  by 
the  writers  of  his  time  is  almost 
beyond  belief.  Ben  Jonson,  who 
gave  him  the  title  of  his  son,  va- 
lued him  so  highly,  that  he  said  of 
him,  My  son  Caktwkight  writes 
all  like  a  man.  The  editor  of  his 
works  applies  to  him  the  saying  of 
Aristotle  concerning  iE^chron  the 
poet,  that  he  could  not  tell  what 
TEscHnoN  could  not  do.  Lang- 
baine  says  of  him,  that  "  he  was 
'«  extremely  remarkable  both  for 
"  his  outward  and  inward  endow- 
"  ments  ;  his  body  being  as  band- 
"  some  as  his  soul.  He  was  an 
"  expert  linguist,  understanding 
"  not  only  Greek  and  Latin,  but 
"  French  and  Italian,  as  perfectly 
"  as  his  mother-tongue.  He  was 
"  an  excellent  orator,  and  yet  an 
"  admirable  poet ;  a  quality  which 
u  Cicero  with  all  his  pains  could 
"  not  attain  to  ;  nor  was  Aristotle 
"  less  known  to  him  than  Cicero 
"  and  Virgil." 

In  a  word,  he  was  of  so  sweet 
a  disposition,  and  so  replete  with 
all  virtues,  that  he  was  beloved 
of  all  learned  men  that  knew 
him,  and  admired  by  all  strangers. 
And  when,  after  his  death,  his 
plays  and  poems  were  published 
together,  Svo.  Irj51,  we  find  them 
accompanied  by  above  fifty  copies 
of  verses,  written  by  the  most 
eminent  wits  of  the  university ; 
every  one  being  desirous  to  appear 
in  the  number  of  his  friends,  and 
to  give  public   testimony  to  the 


9i 


CAR 

world  of  the  value  they  had  for 
his  memory.  John  Leigh,  Esq. 
addressing  Cartwright's  bookseller 
(Mr.  Mosely),  says,  after  having 
commended  many  other  poets 
whose  works  Mr.  M.  had  pub- 
lished, 

"  Bat,  after  all,  thou  bring'st  up  in  the 

rear 
"  One  that  fil's  every  eye,  an!  every  ear, 
f*  Cartwright,  rare  Cartwright,  to  whom 

all  must  bow, 
'.'  That  was  best  preacher,  and  best  poet 

too ; 
"  Whose  leai  ned  fancy  never  was  at  rest, 
','  but  always  labouiingjyetlabour'd  least: 
"  His  wit 's  immortal,  and  shall  honour 

have, 
*.'  While  theie  's  or  slavish  lord,  or  Royal 

Slave." 

It  is  impossible,  however,  to 
close  his  character  with  any  thing- 
stronger  or  more  concise  than  the 
mention  made  of  him  by  the 
learned  and  pious  Dr.  Fell,  Bishop 
of  Oxford,  who  said  of  him, 
"  Cartwright  was  the  utmost  man 
"  could  come  to."  See  Biog.  Brit. 
art.  Cartwright  (William). 

His  dramatic  pieces  are  only 
four,  viz. 

1.  Royal  Slave.  T.  C.  4to. 
1639;   8vo.   1651. 

2.  Lady  Errant.  T.  C.  8vo. 
1651. 

3.  Ordinary.  C.  8vo.  l6ol. 
In  Dodsley's  Collection. 

4.  Siege.     T.  C.     8vo.l 65 1. 

In  the  edition,  1651,  of  Cart- 
wright's  Poems  and  Plays,  there 
are  some  verses  wanting  in  the 
copy  on  the  death  of  Sir  B.  Gre- 
vill,  p.  303  j  the  deficiency  may 
be  supplied  from  a  copy  published, 
with  many  others  on  the  same  oc- 
casion, at  Oxford,  printed  in  1644  ; 
they  are  there  signed  "W.  C.  the 
initials  of  Cartwright's  name. 

Caryl,  John,  was  probably  a 
Sussex-man,  and  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  persuasion,     He  was  se= 


C  A  V 

cretary  to  Queen  Mary,  the  wife 
of  James  the  Second,  and  one  who 
followed  the  fortunes  of  his  abdi- 
cated master.  For  his  attachment 
to  this  king  he  was  rewarded  by 
him,  first,  with  the  honour  of 
knighthood  ;  and  afterwards  with 
the  honorary  titles  of  Earl  Caryl, 
Baron  Dartford.  How  long  he 
continued  in  the  service  of  James 
is  unknown  ;  but  he  was  in  Eng- 
land in  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne, 
and  recommended  the  subject  of 
Mr.  Pope's  Rape  of  the  Lock  to 
that  author,  who,  on  its  publica- 
tion, addressed  it  to  him.  He  was 
alive  in  1717,  and  at  that  time 
must  have  been  a  very  old  man. 
See  three  of  his  letters  in  Additions 
to  Fope,  vol.  ii.  p.  1 14.   He  wrote, 

1 .  The  English  Princess ;  or. 
The  Death  of  Richard  the  Third. 
Trag.     4to.  1667. 

2.  Sir  Salomon  ;  or,  The  Cau- 
tious Coxcomb.     C.     4  to.  167]. 

Carysfort,  Earl  of.  See 
Proby. 

Cavendish,  William,  Duke 
of  Newcastle.  This  noble  au- 
thor, who  was  justly  esteemed  one 
of  the  most  finished  gentlemen,  as 
well  as  the  most  distinguished  ge- 
neral and  statesman,  of  the  age  he 
lived  in,  was  the  son  of  Sir  Charles 
Cavendish,  whose  father  was  Sir 
William  Cavendish,  and  his  elder 
brother  the  first  Earl  of  Devon- 
shire of  that  family.  His  mother 
was  Catharine,  daughter  of  Cuth- 
bert,  Lord  Ogle.  He  was  born  in 
1592;  and  his  father,  who  disco- 
vered in  him,  even  from  infancy, 
a  great  quickness  of  genius,  and  a 
strong  propensity  to  literature,  took 
care  to  improve  those  advantages, 
by  procuring  for  him  the  best 
masters  in  every  science. 

His  course  of  education  being 
early  completed,  he  appeared  at 
court  with  so  high  a  reputation  for 


C  A  V 

abilities,  as  drew  on  him  the  pe- 
culiar attention  and  regard  of  King 
James  I.  who,  at  the  creation  of 
Henry,  Prince  of  Wales,  in  lO'lO, 
made  him  a  Knight  of  the  Bath  ; 
and,  in  1620,  his  father  having 
been  dead  three  years,  by  whose 
decease  he  became  possessed  of  a 
large  estate,  he  was  created  a  peer, 
by  the  title  of  Baron  Ogle  and  Vis- 
count Mansfield,  which  titles  wqre 
afterwards  further  ennobled  in  the 
third  year  of  King  Charles  I.'s 
reign,  by  the  addition  of  that  of 
Lord  Cavendish  of  Bolsover,  and 
the  still  higher  one  of  Earl  of  New- 
castle-upon-Tyne. 

The  high  favour,  however,  in 
which  his  Lordship  stood  at  court, 
excited  the  jealousy  of  the  minis- 
ters, and  more  particularly  of  the 
favourite  Duke  of  Buckingham  ; 
notwithstanding  which,  his  Lord- 
ship preserved  the  King's  affection 
towards  him  in  so  perfect  a  degree, 
that,  in  1038,  His  Majesty  gave 
the  strongest  testimony  of  his  con- 
fidence, both  in  his  abilities  and 
honour,  by  assigning  him  the  very 
important  office  of  governor  to  the 
Prince  of  Wales.  In  l63g,  when 
the  troubles  broke  out  in  Scotland, 
the  King  being  obliged,  not  only 
to  assemble  an  army  in  the  north, 
but  also  to  put  himself  at  the  head 
of  it,  which  was  an  expedition 
that  could  not  but  require  immense 
sums,  and  that  at  a  time  when  the 
roval  finances  were  extremely  low, 
his  Lordship,  in  demonstration  of 
his  zeal  and  loyalty,  not  only  con- 
tributed ten  thousand  pounds  to 
the  treasury,  but  also  raised  a 
troop  of  horse,  consisting  of  about 
two  hundred  knights  and  gentle- 
men, who  served  at  their  own 
charge,  and  were  incorporated  un- 
der the  title  of  the  Prince's  troop  ; 
oa  which  occasion  a  very  remark- 
able instance  was  given  of  how  far 


92 

C  A  V 

■  his  loyalty,  however  it  might  esta- 
blish him  in  the  King's  esteem, 
continued  to  give  umbrage  to  those 
who  were  desirous  of  a  superior  in- 
fluence at  court :  and,  as  his  Lord- 
ship's behaviour  on  the  occasion 
was  such  as  exalted  his  reputa- 
tion, at  the  same  time  that  it  con- 
siderably lessened  that  of  a  rival, 
we  shall  take  the  libe:  ty  of  relating 
the  story  in  this  place. 

In  the  number  of  those  who 
looked  with  an  envious  eye  on  the 
particular  distinctions  shown  to  our 
author  by  the  King,  was  the  Earl 
of  Holland,  at  that  time  general  in 
chief  of  the  horse.  He  was  a  man 
remarkably  selfish  in  his  temper, 
and  of  a  disposition,  although  his 
courage  had  never  before  been  sus- 
pected, rather  cunning  and  pene- 
trating, than  brave  or  open.  The 
troop  which  the  Earl  of  Newcastle 
had  raised  was,  as  we  have  before 
observed,  called  the  Prince's;  but 
was  commanded  by  the  Earl  him- 
self, in  person,  as  its  captain. 
When  the  army  drew  near  Ber- 
wick, the  Earl  sent  Sir  William 
Carnaby,  his  aid-de-camp,  to  Lord 
Holland,  to  know  where  his  troop 
should  march;  whose  answer  was, 
Aext  after  the  troops  of  the  general 
officers.  The  Earl  on  this  sent 
again  to  represent,  that  having  the 
honour  to  march  wider  the  Prince's 
colours,  he  thought  it  not  becoviing 
for  him  to  give  place  to  any  of  the 
officers  of  the  field.  The  general, 
however,  repeated  his  orders  with 
great  peremptoriness,  which  the 
Earl  of  Newcastle,  therefore,  obey- 
ed, taking  no  further  notice  of  it 
at  that  time  than  by  ordering  the 
Prince's  colours  to  be  taken  off  the 
staff,  and  marching  without  any. 
But,  as  soon  as  ever  the  service 
was  over,  he  sent  the  Earl  of  Hol- 
land a  challenge,  which  his  Lord- 
ship accepted,  and  agreed  to  the 


93 

C  A  V 

::me  and  place  of  meeting;  to 
which,  however,  when  our  author 
c:ime,  he  found  not  his  antagonist, 
but  his  second.  The  affair  had 
been  disclosed  to  the  King,  by 
whose  authority,  according  to  Lord 
Clarendon,  the  matter  was  com- 
posed ;  but  not  without  leaving  an 
imputation  in  the  minds  of  many, 
of  some  want  of  personal  bravery 
in  Lord  Holland. 

But  though  in  this  contest  he 
had  apparently  the  advantage,  yet, 
as  it  convinced  him,  in  concur- 
rence with  other  circumstances, 
how  hard  the  ministerial  faction 
was  inclinable  to  bear  upon  him, 
and  being  unwilling  to  give  His 
Majesty  any  trouble  about  himself, 
he  voluntarily  resigned  the  place 
of  governor  to  the  Prince,  and  re- 
tired into  the  country,  where  he 
remained  quiet  till  he  received  the 
King's  orders  to  revisit  Hull,  which 
important  fortress,  and  nil  the  ma- 
gazines that  were  in  it,  he  o  tie  red 
to  His  Majesty  to  have  secured  for 
him ;  but  when,  instead  of  re- 
ceiving directions  for  that  purpose, 
he  found  his  instructions  were  to 
obey  the  orders  of  the  Parliament, 
he  dropped  his  design,  and  once 
more  retired  into  the  country. 

Here  he  remained  totally  inac- 
tive, till  the  flame  of  civil  war 
being  kindled  to  such  a  blaze  that 
it  would  have  appeared  cowardice 
to  continue  longer  so,  he  engaged 
in  the  royal  cause,  and  accepted  of 
a  commission  for  the  raising  men 
to  take  care  of  the  town  of  New- 
castle., and  the  four  adjacent  coun- 
ties ;  in  which  he  was  so  expedi- 
tious and  successful,  that  liu  Ma- 
jesty constituted  him  general  and 
commander  in  chief  of  all  the 
forces  raised  north  of  Trent,  and 
also  of  those  that  might  be  levied 
in  many  of  the  southern  counties, 
with  a  most-  extraordinary  pleni- 


C  A  V 

potentiary  power  of  conferring  the 
honour  of  knighthood,  coining 
money,  and  printing  and  setting 
forth  all  such  declarations  as  should 
to  him  appear  expedient.  Of  all 
these  extensive  powers,  however,, 
his  Lordship  made  a  very  sparing 
use,  excepting  that  of  raising  men, 
which  he  pursued  with  such  dili- 
gence, that  in  three  months  he  had 
levied  an  army  of  eight  thousand 
horse,  foot,  and  dragoons,  with 
which  he  marched  directly  into 
Yorkshire,  and,  after  defeating  the 
enemy  at  Pierce  Bridge,  advanced 
to  York,  the  governor  of  which 
city  surrendered  up  the  keys  to 
him. 

During  the  course  of  the  civil 
war,  the  Earl   of  Newcastle  was 
very  successful,  having  more  than 
once  defeated  General  Fairfax,  and 
even  gained  several  important  forts 
and  battles.     For   which   service 
King  Charles,  in  the  year  1643. 
advanced    him    to   the  dignity  of 
Marquis  of  Newcastle;  but  when, 
in  ]6'44,  through  the  precipitancy 
of  Prince  Rupert,  His  Majesty's 
forces  received  a  total  defeat  at 
Marston  Moor,  in  which  the  Mar- 
quis's infantry  were  cut  to  pieces, 
this  nobleman,  finding  the  Kind's 
affairs  in  that  part  of  the  kingdom 
irretrievably  ruined,  made  the  best 
of  his  way   to  Scarborough,  and 
from  thence,  with   a  few  of  the 
principal  officers  of  his  army,  em- 
barked   for    Hamburgh.      After 
staying  for   about  six   months  at 
that  place,  he  went  bv  sea  to  Am- 
sterdam, and  from  thence  took  a 
journey  to  Paris,  where  he  married 
and  resided  some  time.    He  after- 
wards removed  to  Antwerp,  where 
he  passed  the  remainder  of  his  ex- 
ile, during  which  he  underwent  a 
\  ariety  of  misfortunes  and  distress, 
his  circumstances    being  at  some 
times  so  bad,  that  the  Du 


SH 


C  A  V 

herself,  in  the  life  she  has  written 
of  her  husband,  confesses  they  were 
both  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
pawning  iheir  clothes  for  subsist- 
ence. For,  although  his  estates  in 
England  were  valued  at  upwards 
of  twenty  thousand  pounds  per 
annum,  they  were  left  entirely 
at  the  mercy  of  the  Parliament, 
who  levied  immense  sumson  them. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  all  these 
severities  of  fortune,  during  the 
course  of  a  sixteen  years  banish- 
ment, he  never  lost  his  spirit,  but 
retained  his  vigour  to  the  last,  re- 
cruiting his  natural  vivacity  by 
the  sprightly  conversation  of  his 
lady,  the  frequent  company  of  the 
young  King,  who  made  him  Knight 
of  the  Garter,  and  a  full  prepos- 
session that  the  clouds,  which  then 
overhung  his  own  fortunes  and 
those  of  his  country,  would  at 
length  be  dispersed  by  the  King's 
restoration.  In  this  his  Lordship 
proved  a  true  prophet ;  for  the 
gloomy  period  at  length  rame  to 
an  end,  and  the  Marquis  returned 
to  his  own  country  with  his  Sove- 
reign ;  where,  after  being,  by  let- 
ters patent,  dated  March  Id,  lG0'4, 
created  Earl  of  Ogle  and  Duke  of 
Newcastle,  his  Grace  withdrew  to 
a  happy  country  retirement,  where 
he  spent  the  evening  of  his  days  in 
calm  repose,  and  in  the  indulgence 
of  those  studies,  with  which  he 
was  the  most  affected. 

At  length,  alter  a  life  of  great 
action  and  great  variety,  having 
attained  to  the  highest  honours, 
and  deservedly  purchased  the  fair- 
est reputation,  this  truly  Noble 
Lord  took  his  flight  to  a  better 
world,  on  the  25th  Dec.  1676,  in 
his  84th  year,  and  lies  interred  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  against  the 
screen  of  the  chapel  of  St.  Michael , 
ui  der  a  most  spacious  and  noble 
tomb,  which,  a  little  before  his 


C  A  V 

death,  he  had  caused  to  be  erected 
to  the  memory  of  his  Dutchess. 
The  monument  is  all  of  while 
marble,  but  adorned  with  two  pil- 
lars of  black  marble,  with  enta- 
blatures of  the  Corinthian  order, 
embellished  with  arms,  as  is  the 
pedestal  with  various  trophy  works, 
whereon  are  two  images  of  white 
marble,  excellently  well  carved, 
and  in  full  proportion,  in  a  cum- 
bent  posture,  representing  the 
Duke  and  Dutchess. 

With  respect  to  this  nobleman's 
public  character  it  will  be  need- 
less to  add  any  thing  to  what  has 
been  already  said.  In  regard  to  his 
private  one,  some  of  his  histo- 
rians have  seemed  to  condemn  him 
for  a  profuseness  and  a  passion  for 
magnificence,  which  sometimes 
had  too  great  a  tendency  to  the 
encouragement  of  luxury  and  dis- 
sipation, of  which  they  produce  as 
instances  the  two  sumptuous  en- 
tertainments which  he  gave  to 
King  Charles  I.  at  his  seat  at  Wel- 
beck,  the  expenses  of  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  Dutchess's  own 
computation,  must  have  amounted 
to  upwards  often  thousand  pounds. 
And  others,  of  the  graver  kind, 
have  censured  him  for  too  strong 
an  attachment  to  poetry  and  the 
polite  arts,  in  which,  however, 
they  have  done  no  honour  to  the 
delicacy  of  their  own  taste.  It  is 
certain,  indeed,  that  this  noble 
personage  was,  from  his  earliest 
youth,  celebrated  for  his  love  of 
the  Muses,  that  he  had  a  true  taste 
for  the  liberal  arts,  was  ever  de- 
lighted with  having  men  of  genius 
about  him,  and  took  a  singular 
pleasure  in  rescuing  necessitous 
merit  from  obscurity.  Shadwell 
says  of  him,  that  he  was  the 
greatest  master  of  wit,  the  most 
exact  observer  of  mankind,  and 
the  most   accurate  judge  of  hu- 


93 


C  A  V 

rnour,  that  ever  he  knew.  In  a 
word,  he  was  truly  the  Maecenas 
of  King  Charles  I.'js  reign  :  but  it 
.!oes  not  appear  that,  in  the  busy 
scenes  of  life,  his  Lordship  suffer- 
ed his  thoughts  to  stray  so  far  from 
his  eraplo)  meat  as  to  turn  author. 
In  his  exile,  indeed,  being  ex- 
tremely fond  of  the  breaking  and 
managing  horses,  than  which  there 
cannot  be  a  more  manly  exercise, 
though,  in  our  delicate  age,  almost 
entirely  left  to  grooms  and  jockies, 
he  thought  fit  to  publish  his  senti- 
ments on  those  subjects,  in  that 
very  pompous  work' printed  in  bis 
name,  and  which  is  still  held  in 
high  esteem.  He  also,  for  the 
amusement  of  some  leisure  hours, 
applied  himself  to  dramatic  poe- 
try, the  produce  of  which  cannot 
but  give  us  a  strong  idea  of  his 
fortitude  and  cheerfulness  of  tem- 
per, even  under  the  greatest  diffi- 
culties, since,  though  written  du- 
ring his  banishment,  and  in  the 
midst  of  depression  and  poverty, 
all  the  pieces  he  has  left  us  in  that 
way  of  writing  are  of  the  comic 
kind.     Their  titles  are, 

1.  The  Country  Captain.  Com. 
12mo.    16-19. 

2.  Variety.  Com.  12mo.  \6Ag. 
Hyde,   in  the  Catalogue  of  the 

Bodleian  Library,    ascribes   these 
plays  to  Nic.  Murford. 

3.  Triumphant  Widow.  Com. 
4to.   16/7. 

4.  Humorous  Lovers.  Com.  4to. 
10/7. 

Jacob  and  Whincop  also  ascribe 
to  him  a  play,  called,  The  Exile; 
but  this  is  only  a  blunder  of  Ja- 
cob's, instead  of  Variety. 

His  Grace  had  been  twice  mar- 
ried, but  had  issue  only  by  his  first 
lady.  His  titles  descended  to  his 
son  Henry,  Earl  of  Ogle,  who  was 
the  last  heir  male  of  his  family, 


C  A  V 

and  who  dying  without  issue,  in 
lOpi,  the  title  of  Newcastle,  in  the 
line  of  Cavendish,  became  ex- 
tinct. 

Cavendish,  Margaret,  Dut- 
chess of  Newcastle.  This 
fantastic  lady,  as  Mr.  Walpole  calls 
her,  was  born  in  St.  John's,  near 
Colchester,  in  Essex,  about  the  lat- 
ter end  of  the  reign  of  King  James 
the  First,  and  was  the  youngest 
daughter  of  Sir  Charles  Lucas,  a 
gentleman  of  great  spirit  and  for- 
tune, who  died  when  she  was  very 
young.  Her  mother  was  remark- 
ably careful  in  the  edcuation  of 
this  and  her  other  daughters,  giv- 
ing them  all  the  polite  accomplish- 
ments in  which  young  ladies  are 
generally  instructed ;  as  needle- 
work, dancing,  music,  and  learn- 
ing the  French  tongue. 

In  16-13,  she  obtained  leave  of 
her  mother  to  go  to  Oxford,  where 
the  Court  then  resided,  and  was 
made  one  of  the  maids  of  honour 
to  Henrietta  Maria,  the  royal  con- 
sort of  King  Charles  the  First. 
And  when  the  Queen  was  forced 
to  leave  England  and  go  to  her 
native  country,  she  attended  her 
thither.  At  Paris  she  met  with 
the  Marquis  of  Newcastle,  then  a 
widower,  who  admiring  her  per- 
son, disposition,  and  ingenuity,  was 
manied  to  her  in  that  place,  in 
1645.  From  Paris  they  went  to- 
Rotterdam,  where  they  resided  six 
months.  From  thence  they  re- 
turned to  Antwerp,  where  they 
settled  and  continued  during  their 
exile ;  choosing  it  as  the  most  plea- 
sant and  quiet  place  to  retire  to, 
and  enjoy  the  remainder  of  their 
ruined  fortunes.  She  proved  a 
most  agreeable  companion  to  the 
Marquis,  in  this  his  melancholy 
recess,  as  well  by  her  writings  as 
conversation,    a?  appears   by  the 


96 


C  A  V 
many  compliments  and  addresses 
which  he  made  to  her   on  those 
occasions. 

She  came  into  England  in  order 
to  obtain  some  of  the  Marquis's 
rents,  to  supply  their  pressing  ne- 
cessities, and  pay  the  debts  they 
had  contracted  there ;  and  accord- 
ingly went  with  Lord  Lucas,  her 
brother,  to  Goldsmith  Hall,  but 
could  not  procure  a  grant  to  re- 
ceive one  penny  out  of  the  Mar- 
quis's vast  inheritance  :  and  had 
it  not  been  for  the  seasonable  ge- 
nerosity of  Sir  Charles  Cavendish, 
they  must  have  been  exposed  to 
extreme  poverty.  Having  got  a 
considerable  sum  from  her  own 
and  the  Marquu's  relations,  she 
returned  to  Antwerp,  where  she 
continued  with  her  Lord  till  the 
restoration  of  King  Charles  the 
Second.  On  this  event  the  Mar- 
quis returned  to  his  native  coun- 
try, after  sixteen  years  banishment, 
leaving  his  Lady  behind  to  dispatch 
his  affairs,  which  .die  settled,  and 
then  followed  him  to  England, 
where  she  spent  the  remainder  of 
her  life  entirely  devoted  to  letters. 
She  died  in  London,  in  the  year 
16/3,  and  was  buried  at  West- 
minster, Jan. 7,  16/3-4,  where  an 
elegant  monument  was  erected  to 
her  memory. 

Her  person,  it  is  Said,  was  very 
graceful ;  her  temper  naturally  re- 
served and  shy ;  and  she  seldom 
said  much  in  company,  especially 
among  strangers  :  was  most  inde- 
fatigable in  her  studies,  contem- 
plations, and  writings;  was  truly 
pious,  charitable,  and  generous ; 
was  an  excellent  economist,  very 
kind  to  her  servants,  and  a  per- 
fect pattern  of  conjugal  love  and 
duty. 

Two  folio  volumes  of  plays, 
written  by  her,  have  been  pub- 
lished,  the  first  in  1662,    which 


C  A  V 


contains  the  following  perform- 
ances, viz. 

1.  Love's  Adventures. 

2.  The  Second  Part    of  Love's 
Adventures. 

3.  Tlie  Several  Wits.    C. 

4.  Youth's   Glory    and   Death's 
Banquet.    T.  Part  I. 

5.  The  Second  Part  of  Youth's 
Glory  and  Death's  Banquet. 

6.  The  Lady  Contemplation,  p.  I. 
/.  The  Lady  Contemplation, ^.11. 
8.   Wit's  Cabal,  part  I. 

9-   Wit's  Cabal,  part  II. 

10.  The  Unnatural  Tragedy. 

11.  The  Public  Wooing.     C. 

12.  The  Matrimonial   Trouble. 
C.  part  I. 

13.  The   Matrimonial  Trouble. 
C.T.  part  II. 

1-1.  Nature's  Three  Daughters, 
Beauty,  Love,  and  Wit,  part  I. 

15.  Nature's  Three  Daughters, 
Beauty,  Love,  and  Wit,  part  II. 

16.  The  Religious. 

\J.  The  Comical  Hash. 
18.  Belt  in  Campo,  part  I. 
lp.  Bell  in  Campo,  part  II. 

20.  The  Apocryphal  Ladies.   C. 

21.  The  Female  Academy. 
The  following  were  printed   in 

another  volume,  published  166S. 

22.  The  Convent  of  Pleasure.  C. 

23.  The  Sociable  Companions; 
or,  The  Female  fFits.  C. 

24.  The  Presence.     C. 

25.  The  Bridals.      C. 

26.  The  Blazing  World.   C. 
The  language  and  plots  of  her 

plays  are  original,  whatever  other 
merit  they  may  be  thought  to  want. 
In  her  general  prologue  the  Dut- 
chess says : 

"  But,  noble  readers,  do  not  think  my 

plays 
"  Are  such  as  have  been  writ  in  former 

('.  lys  ; 
"  As    Jonson,    Shakspeare,    Beaumont, 

Fletcher,  vviit  ; 
"  Mine   want   their   learning,    reading, 

language,  wit : 


& 


CEL 

•'  The  Latin  phrases  I  could  never  tell, 
•'  But  Jonson  could,  which  made  him 

write  so  well. 
*'  Cretk,  Latin  poets,  I  could  never  read, 
''  Nor  their  historians,  but  our  English 

Speed  : 
"  I  could  not  steal  their  wit,  nor  plots 

out  take  ; 
"  All  mv  plays'  plots,  my  own  poor  brain 

<:i .:  make  ; 
"  From  Plutarch's  story  I  ne'er  took  a 

plot, 
"  Nor  from  romances,  nor  from  Don 

Qu;xot, 
"  As   others   have,    for   to   assist  their 

wit  ; 
"  But  I  upon  my  own  foundation  writ," 

&'C. 

Cav.dkll,  James'.  This  gen- 
tleman was  manager  and  principal 
comedian  of  the  theatres  at  Scar- 
borough, Sunderland,  Shiehls,  &c. 
for  nearly  thirty  years.  As  an 
actor,  he  was  uncommonly  skilful 
in  the  delineation  of  comic  charac- 
ters, of  a  dry  eccentric  cast.  In 
the  year  1798  he  retired  from  the 
stage,  and  disposed  of  his  theatrical 
property  to  Mr.  Stephen  Kemb'e. 
He  died  at  Durham,  in  Jan.  1600. 
In  1784,  or  1785,  he  published  a 
volume  of  poems,  by  subscription, 
at  Scarborough.  He  was  also  au- 
thor of  the  following  dramatic 
pieces  : 

1.  appeal  to  the  Muses.     D.  P. 
Svo.   1//8. 

1.  Melpomene's  Overthrow. 
Mock  Masque.  Svo.   1778. 

3.  Triumph  of  Genius.  C.  1785. 

4.  Apollo's  Holiday.  Prel.  1792. 
N  P. 

5.  Battered  Batavians.  Ent. 
179S.  N.  P. 

Cecill,    ,    of  Sr.  John's 

College,  Cambridge,  was  author 
of  a  Latin  play,  called 

Mmi&a.     Com.  I6l4.  N.  P. 

Celisia,  Mrs.  This  lady  was 
daughter  of  David  Mallet,  Esq. 
and  wife  of  Mr.  Celisia,  a  Genoese 
gentleman,  who  formerly  resided 
in  London,  in  a  public  character. 

VOL.  I. 


CEN 


She  died  at  Genoa,   about  Sept. 
1790,    having   written,    besides  a 
poem  on  Indolence, one  play, called 
Almida.     T.  Svo    1771. 
Centlivre,    Susanna.     This 
lady  was  daughter  of  one  Mr.  F  ee- 
man,of  Holbeach,  in  Lincolnshire,. 
who  although  he  had  been  pos- 
sessed of  no  inconsiderable  estate, 
yet  being  a  dissenter,  and  a  zealous 
Parliamentarian,  was  at  the  time 
of  the  Restoration  extremely  per- 
secuted ;  as  were  also  the  family  of 
his  wife,  who  was  daughter  of  Mr. 
Markham,  a  gentleman  of  a  good 
estate  at  Lynn  Regis,  in  Norfolk, 
but  of  the  same  political  principles 
with   Mr.  Freeman  ;  so   that  his 
estate  was  confiscated,  and  he  him- 
self compelled  to  fly  to  Ireland. 
How    long    he    stayed   there,  we 
have  not  been  able  to  trace ;  nor 
whether  our  authoress,  who,  from 
a  comparison  of  concurrent   cir- 
cumstances,    we    imagine    must 
have  been  born  about  l6S0,  drew 
her  first   breath  in  that  kingdom 
or  in  EngLnd.     These  are  parti- 
culars as  to  which  all  her  historians 
liave  been  silent;  yet  we  are   apt 
to  conjecture   that  she  was  born 
in  Ireland,  as  we  think  it  probable 
her  mother  might  not  return  to 
her  native   country  till  after  the 
death  of  her  husband,  which  hap- 
pened  when    this   girl    was    only 
three  years  old.    Be  this  as  it  may, 
we  rind  her  left  to  the  wide  world, 
by  the  death   of  her  mother  also, 
before    she    had   completed    her 
twelfth  year.      Whincop  relates  a 
romantic  story  of  her,  in  a  very 
early  period  of  her  life,  which,  al- 
though he  seems  mistaken  in  some 
parts  of  her  history  (at  least  either 
he  or  Jacob  must  have  been  so), 
having  made  her  father  survive  the 
mother,  and  even  to  have  married 
again  before  his  death,  yet  as  he 
seems  to  have  taken  pains  in  col* 
11 


99 
C  E  N 

lpcting  many  circumstances  of  her 
life  which  are  no  where  else  re- 
lated, we  cannot  think  ourselves 
authorized  entirely  to  omit  it.    He 
tells   us,    that  alter   her   father's 
death,    finding    herself    very    ill 
treated   by    her    stepmother,    she 
determined,  though  almost  desti- 
tute  of  money  and   every   other 
necessary,  to  go  up  to  London,  to 
seek  a  better  fortune  than  what  she 
had  hitherto  experienced  :     that 
as  she  was  proceeding  on  her  jour- 
ney,  on  foot,  she  was   met  by  a 
young  gentleman  from  the  univer- 
sity of  Cambridge  (of  whose  name, 
by  the  way,  he  informs  us,  and  who 
was  no  oiher  than  the  afterwards 
■well-known  Anthony  Hammond, 
Esq.),  who  was  sc  extremely  struck 
with   her  youth  and  beauty,  and 
so  affected  with  the  distress  which 
her   circumstances    naturally   de- 
clared in  her  countenance,    that 
he  fell  instantly  in  love  with  her; 
and,  inquiring  into  the  particulars 
of  her  story,  soon  prevailed  on  her 
inexperienced  innocence  to  seize 
on  the  protection  he  offered  her, 
and   go  with  him  to  Cambridge, 
where,    equipping    her    in    boy's 
clothes,  he  introduced  her  to  his 
intimates  at  college  as  a  relate  n, 
who  was  come  down  to  see  the 
university,    and  pass    some   time 
with  him   there ;    and   that  they 
continued  this  intercourse  for  some 
months,  till  at  length,  sated  per- 
haps with  possession,  or  perhaps 
afraid  that  the  affair  would  be  dis- 
covered at  the  university,  heper- 
suaded  her   to  come  to  London, 
providing  her  however  with  a  con- 
siderable  sum   of  money,  and    a 
letter  of  recommendation  to  a  gen- 
tlewoman of  his  acquaintance  in 
town  3  sealing  the  whole  with  a 
promise,  which,  however,  it  does 
not  :.'.  pear  he  ever  performed,  of 
spccuuy  following  her,  and  renew- 


C  E  N 

ing  their  amorous  intercourse.     If 
this  story  is  true,  it  must  have  hap- 
pened   when   she    was  extremely 
young;   Whincop,  as  well  as  the 
other  writers,  acknowk-d^ng  that 
she    was     married    in     her    six- 
teenth year,  to  a  nephew  of  Sir 
Stephen   Fox.     But   that   gentle- 
man not  living  with  her  above  a 
twelvemonth,  her  wit  and  beauty 
soon   procured  her  a  second  hus-! 
bnnd,    whose   name    was    Carrol, 
and  who  was  an  officer  in  the  army ; 
but  he  having  the  misfortune  to 
be  killed  in  a  duel,  within  about  a 
year  and  a  half  after  their  mar- 
riage, she  became  a  second  time  a 
widow.     This  loss  was  a  severe 
affliction  to  her,  as  she  appears  to. 
have  sincerely  Irwcd  that  gentle- 
man.   Partly  peihaps  to  divert  her 
melancholy,  but  chiefly,  it  is  pro- 
bable, for  the  means  of  support, 
she  now  applied  to  her  pen,  and 
became  a  votary  to  the  Muses,  and 
it  is  under  this  name  of  Carrol 
that    some  of  her  earlier    pieces 
were  published.    Her  first  attempt 
was  in  tragedy,    in  a  play,  called 
The   Perjurd   Huslond;   yet   her 
natural  vivacity  hading  her  after- 
wards more  to  comedy,  Ave  find 
but  ouemoreatiempt  in  the  buskin, 
among  eighteen  dramatic  pieces, 
which  she  afterwards  wrote. 

Such  an  attachment  she  seems 
to  haye  had  to  the  theatre,  that 
she  even  became  herself  a  per- 
former, though  it  is  probable  of 
no  great  merit,  as  she  never  rose 
above  the  station  of  a  country  ac- 
tress. However,  she  was  not  long- 
in  this  way  of  life  ;  for,  in  ]  70d, 
performing  the  part  of  Alexander 
the  Great,  in  Lee's  Rival  Queens, 
at  Windsor,  where  the  court  then 
was,  she  wounded  the  heart  of  one 
Mr.  Joseph  Ceuuivre,  yeoman  of 
the  mouth,  or,  in  other  words,  prin- 
cipal cook  to  Her  Majesty,  who 


99 


C  E  N 

soon  married  her ;  and  after  pass- 
ing several  years  happily  toge- 
ther, she  died  at  his  house  in 
Spring  Garden,  Charing  Cross,  on 
the  first  of  December  1723,  and 
was  buried  in  the  parish-church 
of  St.  Martin's  in  the  Fields. 

Thus  did  she  at  length  happily 
close  a  life,  which  at  its  first  set- 
ting out  was  overclouded  with 
difficulty  and  misfortune.  She  for 
many  years  enjoyed  the  intimacy 
and  esteem  of  the  most  eminent 
wits  of  the  time,  viz.  Sir  Richard 
Steele,  Mr.  Rowe,  Budgell,  Far- 
quhar,  Dr.  Sewell,  &c. ;  and  very 
few  authors  received  more  tokens 
of  esteem  and  patronage  from  the 
great ;  to  which  however  the  con- 
sideration of  her  sex,  and  the  power 
of  her  beautw  of  which  she  pos- 
sessed a  considerable  share,  might, 
in  some  degree,  contribute. 

Her  disposition  was  good-na- 
tured, benevolent,  and  friendly ; 
and  her  conversation,  if  not  what 
could  be  called  witty,  was  at  least 
sprightly  and  entertaining.  Her 
family  had  been  warm  party-folks, 
and  she  seemed  to  inherit  the  same 
disposition  from  them,  maintain- 
ing the  strictest  attachment  to 
Whig  principles,  even  in  the  most 
dangerous  times,  and  a  most  zeal- 
ous regard  for  the  illustrious ' 
House  of  Hanover.  This  party- 
spirit,  however,  which  breathes 
even  in  many  of  her  dramatic 
pieces,  procured  her  some  friends 
and  many  enemies. 

As  a  writer,  it  is  no  very  easy 
thing  to  estimate  her  rank  It 
must  be  allowed,  that  her  plays  do 
not  abound  with  wit,  and  that  the 
language  of  them  is  sometimes  even 
poor,  enervate,  incorrect,  and  pue- 
rile ;  but  then  her  plots  are  busy 
and  well  conducted,  and  her  cha- 
racters in  general  natural  and  well 
marked.     But  as  plot  and  charac- 


C  E  N 


ter  are  undoubtedly  the  body  and 
soul  of  comedy  ;  and  language 
and  wit,  at  best,  but  the  clothing 
and  external  ornament}  it  is  cer- 
tainly less  excusable  to  show  a  de^ 
ficiency  in  the  former  than  in  the 
latter.  And  the  success  of  some 
of  Mrs.  Centlivre's  plays  plainly 
evinces,  that  the  first  will  strike  the 
minds  of  an  audience  more  power- 
fully than  the  last ;  since  her  co- 
medy of  The  Bii^y  Body,  which  all 
the  players  had  decried  before  its 
appearance,  in  which  Mr.  Wilks 
had  even  for  a  time  absolutely  re- 
fused to  play,  and  which  the  au- 
dience came  prejudiced  against, 
roused  their  attention  in  despite 
of  that  prejudice,  and  forced  a  run 
of  thirteen  nights;  while  Mr.  Con- 
greve's  Way  of  the  World,  which 
perhaps  contains  more  true  in- 
trinsic wit,  and  unexceptionable  ac- 
curacy of  language,  than  any  dra- 
matic piece  ever  written,  brought 
on  the  stage  with  every  advantage 
of  recommendation,  and  when  the 
author  was  in  the  height  of  repu- 
tation, could  scarcely  make  its  way 
at  all.  Nay,  we  have  been  con- 
fidently assured,  that  the  very  same 
great  actor  we  mentioned  just  now 
made  use  of  this  remarkable  ex- 
pression with  regard  to  her  Bold 
Stroke  for  a  Wife,  viz.  that  not 
only  her  play  would  be  damned, 
hut  she  herself  he  damned  for  writ- 
ing it.  Yet  we  find  it  still  stand- 
ing on  the  list  of  acting  plays ; 
nof  is  it  ever  performed  without 
meeting  with  the  approbation  of 
the  audience,  as  do  also  her  Busy 
Body,  and  Wonder. 

That  Mrs.  Centlivre  was  very 
perfectly  acquainted  with  life,  and 
closely  read  the  minds  and  man- 
ners of  mankind,  no  one,  we  think. 
can  doubt  who  reads  her  come- 
dies ;  but  what  appears  to  us  the 
most  extraordinary  is,  when  we 
H2 


100 


C  E  N 
consider  her  history,  the  disadvan- 
tages she  must  have  laboured  un- 
der, by  being  ;o  early  left  to  bustle 
with  the  World,  ana  that  all  the 
education  she  could  have  bad  must 
have  been  owing  to  her  own  appli- 
cation and  assiduity  j  when,  we  say, 
we  consider  her  as  an  absolutely 
self-cullivated  genius, it  is  astonish- 
ing to  lind  the  traces  of  so  much 
reading  and  learning  as  we  meet 
with  in  many  of  her  pieces;  since, 
for  the  drawing  of  the  various 
charn  iers  she  has  presented  us 
with,  she  must  have  perfectly  well 
understood  the  French,  Dutch, 
and  Spanish  languages,  all  the 
provincial  dialects  of  her  own, 
and  somewhat  even  of  the  Latin, 
since  all  these  she  occasionally 
makes  use  of,  and  whenever  she 
does  so,  it  is  constantly  with  the 
utmost  propriety  and  the  greatest 
accuracy.  In  a  word,  we  cannot 
help  giving  it  as  our  opinion,  that 
if  we  do  not  allow  her  to  be  the 
very  first  of  our  female  writers 
for  the  stage,  she  has  but  one  above 
her,  and  may  justly  be  placed  next 
to  her  predecessor  in  dramatic 
glory,  the  great  Mrs.  Behn. 

Mrs.  Centlivre's  productions  are 
as  foil   \v  : 

1.  Perjur  d  Husldnd.T  Ato.lfGO. 

2.  Loves  Contrivance.    C.  4tp. 

1703. 

3.  Beau  s  Duel.    C.  4to.   1702. 

4.  Stolen  ffeiress.C.4to.l\703.'] 

5.  Gamester.    Com.  4to.  1/05. 

6.  Basset  Talk.  C.  4to.   1706. 

7.  Love  at  a  Venture.     C.  4to» 
1706. 

8.  Platonic  Lady.  C.  4to.  1707- 
Q.  Busy  Body.   C.  4to.  1700. 

10.  Man's  bewitch' d.    C.  4 to. 

I1?10-] 

11.  A  Bkzerstaff-'s  Burying.  F. 

4to.  N.D, 

12.  Marplot.    C.  4to.  1711. 

13.  Ferplex'd  Lovers.     C.  4to. 
1712. 


C  H  A 

14.  Wonder.     C.  12mo.   1714. 

15.  Gotham  Election.  F.  12mo. 
1715. 

16.  Wife  well  managed.  F. 
12mo.   1/15. 

17.  Cruel  Gift.  T.  12mo.  1717. 

18.  Bold  Stroke  for  a  Wife.  C. 
Svo.   1718. 

10.  Artifice.  C.  Svo.   1721. 
Her    plays    were    collected    and 
published  in  3  vols.    12mo.   1761. 
It  is,  however,  become  a  scarce 
book. 

Chamberlain,  Robert.  This 
author  lived  in  the  time  of  King 
Charles  I.  being  born  in  1607,  at 
Standish,  in  Lincolnshire.  He 
lived  for  some  years  as  clerk  to 
Peter  Ball,  Esq.  who  was  solicitor- 
general  to  King  Charles  the  First's 
Queen.  By  this  gentleman  he  was, 
at  the  age  of  thirty,  sent  to  Exeter 
College,  Oxford,  where  he  pur- 
sued his  studies,  and  probably  was 
bred  to  the  pulpit ;  as  we  find  a 
book  written  by  him,  entitled, 
Nocturnal  Lucubrations ;  or,  Me- 
ditations Divine  and  Moral.  He 
wrote  a  play,  called 

The  Swaggering  Damsel.  C.4to. 
1640. 

Winstanley  has  also  attributed  to 
him  a  pastoral,  called 

Sice  tides.  Written  by  Phineas 
Fletcher. 

Chameerlayne,  Da.  Wil- 
liam. This  gentleman  was  a 
physician,  and  son  of  Dr.  Peter 
Chamberlayne.  He  lived  at 
Shaftesbury,  in  Dorsetshire,  in  the 
reigns- of  King  Charles  I.  and 
King  Charles  II.  and  was  a  very 
us  Cavalier.  He  wrote  but 
one  play,  entitled, 

Love's  Victory,  T.  C.  4to.  1658. 
which  being  composed  during  the 
intestine  troubles,  at  which  time 
the  play-houses  were  suppressed, 
could  not  then  be  acted,  but,  some 
years  alter  the  Restoration,  wai 


101 


C  H  A 

brought  on  the  stage  under  the 
title  of 

Wits  led  h/  the  Nose.  C.  4io. 
Id/3. 

Dr.  Cbamberlayne,  in  1659, 
published  Pharonnida,  an  heroic 
poem,  Svo.  a  work  comprising 
five  books,  which,  though,  says 
Langbaine,  it  hath  nothing  extra- 
ordinary to  recommend  it,  yet 
appeared  abroad,  in  prose,  l6S3, 
under  the  title  of  a  noveJ,  railed 
Eromena;  or,  The  Noble  Stra 

Chambers,  Miss.  This  lady, 
we  have  heard,  ,is  daughter  of 
a  mate  of  the  Wintertorj  East 
Indiaman,  which  was  lost  some 
years  since.  Besides  having  writ- 
ten a  novel,  called  He  deceives 
Himself,  Miss  Chambers  has  pro- 
duced 

The  School  for  Friends.  C.  Svo. 
1805. 

Chapman,  George.  Of  this 
voluminous  and  ingenious  writer 
we  are  at  a  loss  to  trace  some  ma- 
terial particulars,  viz.  the  family 
from  whence  he  was  descended,  the 
place  where  he  was  born,  and  the 
school  at  which  he  imbibed  the 
earliest  rudiments  of  his  erudition. 
It  is  known,  however,  that  he  first 
drew  breath  in  the  year  1557,  and 
that  in  1574,  being  then  only  in 
his  seventeenth  year,  yet  well 
grounded  in  grammar-learning,  he 
was  sent  to  the  university;  but 
here  again  some  difficulty  arises  as 
to  whether  Oxford  or  Cambridge 
had  the  honour  of  completing  his 
studies.  For  though  it  is  certain 
that  he  was  some  time  at  Ox- 
ford, and  made  a  figure  there  in 
the  Greek  and  Latin  languages, 
yet  it  does  not  appear  that  he 
shone  there  either  in  logic  or  phi- 
losophy, or  took  any  degree.  On 
his  return  to  London,  he  v.  as 
warmly  patronized  by  Sir  Thomas 
Walsingham,  and  aft«  his  death 


C  H  A 

by  his  son.  He  was  also  held  in 
high  estimation  by  Henry  Prince 
of  Wales,  and  the  Earl  of  Somer- 
set ;  but  the  first  dying,  and  the 
other  being  disgraced,  Chapman's 
hopes  of  preferment  were  frus- 
trated; to  which  disappointments 
perhaps  the  umbrage  taken  by 
King  James  at  some  reflections  cast 
on  the  Scots  nation  in  a  comedy 
d  Eastward  Hoe,  wherein  this 
author  had  a  hand,  might  be  no 
small  addition.  He  appears  how- 
ever to  have  had  some  place  at 
court  under  that  monarch,  or  his 
Queen  Anne.  He  passed  through 
a  long  life,  dying  May  12, 1034, 
in  his  7~th  year,  and  was  bu- 
ried on  the  south  side  of  the  church 
of  St.  Giles  in  the  Fields,  a  mo- 
nument being  erected  over  his 
grave  at  the  expense,  and  accord- 
ing to  the  invention,  of  that  great 
architect  Inigo  Jones,  who  had 
been  his  peculiar  friend  and  in- 
timate. 

He  was  undoubtedly  a  rrnn  of 
very  great  learning  ;  and  although 
translation  has  within  our  latter 
ages  reached  a  greater  degree  of 
perfection  than  it  had  then  at- 
tained, a  due  honour  ought  to  be' 
paid  to  the  industry  of  this  writer, 
who  translated,  and  that  in  a  man- 
ner far  from  contemptible,  the 
whole  Iliad,  Odyssey,  and  Bntryo- 
myomachia  of  Homer,  some  parts 
of  Hesiod,  and  Musaeus's  Eroto- 
pcegnion.  As  to  his  dramatic 
works,  they  are  unequal ;  nor  has 
he  in  any  of  them  paid  much  at- 
tention to  regularity,  the  winch  he 
has  so  greatly  infringed,  as  to  ex- 
tend his  number  of  acts  in  one 
piece,  viz.  Two  Wise  Men  and  all 
the  rest  Fools,  to  two  beyond  the 
settled  standard.  His  master- pieces 
in  the  dramatic  way  are  his  Bussy 
DAmhoise,  in  tragedy,  his  Widow 's 
Tears j  in  comedy,  and  his  Masque 


102 

C  H  A 

of  The  Inns  of  Court.  In  his  pri- 
vate character  he  was  truly  ami- 
able, and  maintained  a  very  close 
acquaintance  with  the  first-rate 
writers  of  his  time.  Yet  such  was 
Jonson's  natural  enviousness  of 
disposition  and  haughtiness  of  tem- 
per, that,  as  Chapman  began  to 
rise  into  reputation,  be  is  said  to 
have  grown  jealous  of  him,  and 
being,  by  the  death  of  Shakspeave, 
left  without  a  rival,  strove  to  con- 
tinue so,  by  endeavouring  to  sup- 
press as  much  ns  possible  the  rising 
fame  of  this  his  friend. 

The  plays  that  Chapman  wrote 
were  as  follow : 

1.  The  Fountain  of  New  Fa- 
shions. P.   1598.  N.  P. 

2.  The  Will  of  a  Woman.  P. 
15g8.  N.  P. 

3.  Blind  Beggar  of  Alexandria. 
C.  4to.    1598." 

4.  Humorous  Days  Mirth.  C. 
4to.  1599- 

5.  All  Fools.  C.  4to.  1605.  DC. 

6.  Eastward  Hoe.  C.  Assisted 
by  Ben  Jonson  and  Marston.  4to. 
1605.  D.  C 

7.  Gentleman  Usher.  C.  4to. 
1606. 

8.  Monsieur  D 'Olive.  C.  4to. 
1606. 

9.  Bussy  D'Ambois.  T.  4to. 
1607. 

10.  Caesar  and  Pompey.  T.  4to. 

1607. 

11.  J  Conspiracy  of  Byron.    T. 

12.  J    two  Parts.  4to.    16OS. 

13.  May  Day.     C.   4to.   1611. 

14.  Widow's  Tears.  C.  4to. 
1612.  D.  C. 

15.  The  Revenge  of  Bussy 
D'Amlois.     T.  4ro.    l6l3. 

l6  Masqueofthe  Middle  Temple 
tnd  Lincoln's  Inn.  N.  D.  [1 61 3.] 

17.  Tuo  wise  Men,  and  all  the 
rest  Foots.  C  M.  4to.  1619. 

18.  Alphonsus  Emperor  of  Ger- 
many. T.  <i\o.  1654. 


C  H  A 

1 Q.  Revenge  for  Honour.  T.  4to. 
1654. 

20.  The  Fatal  Love.  A  French 
Trag.  K.  P. 

21.  Tragedy  of  a  Yorkshire  Gen- 
tlewoman and  her  Son.     N.  P. 

There  has  also  been  ascribed  to 
him, 

22.  The  Second  Maiden's  Tra- 
gedy.    MS. 

Charke,  Charlotte.  This 
lady  was  authoress  of  three  pieces 
in  the  dramatic  kind,  entitled, 

1.  The  Art  of  Management.  D. 
P.   Svo.   1735. 

2.  The  Carnival.  C.  1735.  N.P. 

3.  Tit  for  Tat.     17-13.     N.  P. 
As  a  daughter  of  the  celebrated 
Colley  Cibber,  and  sister  to  Theo- 
philus  Cibber,  indeed,  she  seems 
to  have  a  kind  of  hereditary  claim 
to  some  particular  notice  in  a  work 
professedly    intended    for   the  re- 
cording  of  such  personages  and 
things  as  have  any  close  connexion 
with,  or  reference  to,  the  affairs 
of    the    theatre.      And    although 
she  cannot  be  considered  of  equal 
consequence  to    the   public    with 
either  of  these  her  before-named 
relations ;   yet  as,  by  a  course  of 
strange  occurrences,  and  a  dispo- 
sition apparently  of  the  most  ro- 
mantic and  inconsiderate  nature, 
she  rendered  herself  the  subject  of 
much    conversation   and  censure, 
and  as,  like  her  father  and  brother, 
she  has  thought  proper  to  publish 
to  the  world  some  of  the  adven- 
tures of  her  life,  with  a  view,  as  it 
should  seem,  to  apologize  for  part 
of  her  conduct,  it  would  certainly 
be  an   omission    that    we    could 
scarcely  be  justified  in,  were  we 
not  to  oblige  our  readers  with  a 
short  summary  of  those  adventures 
which,  divested  from  the  number 
of  very     trifling     incidents   with 
which  she  had  interlarded  them,  in 
order  to  s\yeU  out  her  life  to  the-. 


103 


C  H  A 

bulk  cf  a  volume,  may  not  per- 
haps be  totally  unentertaining. 

She  informs  us,  that  she  was  the 
youngest  child  of  the  celebrated 
Laureat,  born  at  a  time  when  her 
mother  was  forty-five  years  of  age, 
and,  having  borne  no  children  for 
some  years  before,  began  to  ima- 
gine, that,  without  this  additional 
blessing, she  had  fully  answered  the 
end  of  her  creation,  and  therefore 
seems  to  conclude,  that  (exclusive 
of  her  parents,  by  whom  she  con- 
fesses  she  was  treated  with  the  ut- 
most tenderness  aud  affection)  she 
came  not  only  an  unexpected,  but 
an  unwelcome  guest,  into  the  fa- 
mily. To  this  dislike  of  her  other 
relations  she  attributes  a  very  con- 
siderable share  of  her  following 
misfortunes ;  but,  indeed,  it  must 
be  confessed,  that  she  very  early 
seemed  to  show  a  disposition  ^o 
wild,  so  dissipated,  and  so  unsuit- 
able to  her  sex,  as  must  very  natu- 
rally be  supposed  to  have  given  dis- 
gust to  those  of  her  friends,  whose 
wishes  were  even  the  most  favour- 
able towards  her.  In  short,  from 
infancy  she  owns  she  had  more*  of 
the  male  than  female  in  her  incli- 
nations, and  relates  two  or  three 
droll  adventures  of  her  dressing 
herself  up  in  her  father's  clothes  ; 
her  riding  out  on  the  back  of  an 
ass's  foal,  when  not  above  four  or 
five  years  old,  &rc.  that  seem  an 
evident  foretaste  of  the  like  mas- 
culine conduct  which  she  pursued 
through  life.  At  eight  years  old 
she  was  put  to  school,  but  had  an 
education  bestowed  on  her  more 
suitable  to  a  boy  than  to  one  of 
the  opposite  sex  ;  and  as  she  grew 
up  she  followed  the  same  plan, 
being  much  more  frequently  in 
the  stable  than  in  the  bed-cham- 
ber, and  fully  mistress  of  the  hand- 
ling of  a  curry-comb,  though 
totally    ignorant  of  the  use  of  a 


C  H  A 
needle.  Her  very  amusements  all 
took  the  same  masculine  turn  -y 
shooting,  hunting,  riding  races, 
and  digging  in  a  garden,  being  ever 
her  favourite  exercises.  She  also 
relates  au  act  of  her  prowess  when 
a  mere  child,  in  protecting  the 
house,  when  in  expectation  of  an 
attack  from  thieves,  by  the  firing 
of  pistols  and  blunderbusses  out  at 
the  windows.  All  her  actions 
seem  to  have  had  a  boyish  mis- 
chievousness  in  them,  and  she 
sometimes  appears  to  have  run 
great  risk  of  ending  them  with  the 
most  fatal  consequences. 

This  wildness,  however,  was 
put  some  check  to  by  her  mar- 
riage, when  very  young,  with  Air. 
Richard  Charke,  an  eminent  per- 
former on  the  violin;  immediately 
after  which  she  launched  into  the 
billows  of  a  stormy  world,  in 
which  she  was,  through  the  whole 
remainder  of  her  life,  buffeted 
about  without  ever  once  reaching 
a  peaceful  harbour.  Her  hus- 
band's insatiable  passion  for  women 
very  soon  gave  her  just  cause  of 
uneasiness,  and  in  a  short  time 
appears  to  have  occasioned  a  sepa- 
ration. She  then  applied  to  the 
stage,  apparently  from  inclination 
as  well  as  necessity,  and  opened 
with  the  little  part  of  Mademoi- 
selle, in  The  Provoked  Wife,  April 
2S,  1J30,  which  was  the  last 
night  of  Mrs.  Oidrield's  perform- 
ance; in  which  she  met  with  all 
the  success  she  could  expect. 
From  this  she  rose  in  her  second 
and  third  attempts  to  the  capital 
characters  of  Alicia,  in  Jane  Shore, 
and  Andromache,  in  The  Dis- 
tressed Mother,  in  which,  not- 
withstanding the  remembrance  of 
Mrs.  Porter  and  Mrs.  OldfiekU 
she  met  with  great  indulgence 
from  the  audience  ;  and,  being  re- 
markable for  reading  well.,  was 
h  4 


104 


C  H  A 

suffered  to  go  on  upon  sudden 
emergencies  to  read  characters  of 
no  less  importance  than  those  of 
CleOpatra  and  Queen  Elizabeth. 
She  was  after  this  engaged,  at  a 
very  good  salary  and  a  sufficient 
supply  of  very  considerable  parts, 
at  the  Theatre  in  the  Haymarket, 
and  after  that  at  Drury  Lane.  In 
a  word,  she  seemed  well  settled, 
and  likely  to  have  made  no  inglo- 
rious figure  in  theatrical  life,  had 
not  that  want  of  consideration  and 
ungovernable  impetuosity  of  pas- 
sions which  ran  through  all  her 
actions,  induced  her  to  quarrel 
with  Mr.  Fleetwood,  the  then  ma- 
nager, whom  she  not  only  left  on 
a  sudden  without  any  notice  given, 
but  even  vented  her  spleen  against 
him  in  public,  by  the  writing  of 
the  first  dramatic  piece  that  we  have 
mentioned  above;  and  though  that 
gentleman  not  only  forgave  her 
this  injury  and  restored  her  to  her 
former  station,  yet  she  acknow- 
ledges that  she  afterwards  very 
ungratefully  left  him  a  second- 
time,  on  a  cause  in  which  he  could 
incur  no  share  of  blame. 

Thus  having  thrown  herself  out 
of  employment  in  a  profession  in 
which  she  had  a  fair  apparent 
prospect  of  success,  she  next  en- 
tered on  a  business,  which,  by 
knowing  nothing  of,  she  must  be 
certain  to  fail  in  :  in  a  word,  she 
commenced  trader,  and  set  up  as 
a  grocer  and  oil- woman,  in  a  shop 
in  Long  Acre. 

In  this  station  she,  with  a  ereat 
deal  of  humour,  describes  and  ral- 
lies her  sanguine  expectations  and 
absurd  proceedings,  till,  between 
her  own  ignorance,  and  the  tricks 
of  sharpers,  some  of  whom  cheat- 
ed, and  others  robbed  her,  she 
was,  after  having  kept  shon  about 
three  months,  forced  to  throw  it 
up,  and  set   up  a  great  puppet- 


C  H  A 
show,  over  the  Tennis-court,    i»- 
James  Street,  near  the  Hay  market. 
But  after  some  little  course  of  suc- 
cess in  this  design,  it  began  to  fail; 
and   she    was  reduced    to  sell  for 
twenty  guineas  what  she  says  had 
cost  her  near  five  hundred  pounds. 
During  thecourse  of  these  trans- 
actions, Mrs.  Charke  informs  us, 
that  she  had  highly  offended  her 
father,  but  by  what  action  of  her 
own  she  does   not   tell  us.     She 
confesses  indeed,  that  she  had  in 
some  respects  justly  incurred  his 
displeasure,  but  is  desirous  of  hav- 
ing   it  appear  that   it    had   been 
greatly  aggravated,  and  occasioned 
to  hang  with  a  heavier  load  on  her 
than  it  would  otherwise  have  done, 
through  the  ill  offices  of  an  elder 
sister.     However,  we  cannot  help 
imagining   the    offence    to    have 
been  of  a    very  heinous    nature, 
since    it    is    evident    Mr.    Cibber 
never  after  forgave  her,  nor  in  her 
greatest  distresses  setms  to  have  at 
all  assisted  her  3  a  conduct  entirely 
opposite  to  that  humanity  and  uni- 
versal benevolence  which  were  so 
well  known  to  be  the  characteristics 
of  that    gentleman's   disposition  ; 
and  indeed,  whatever  was  the  first 
cause  of  his  abandoning  her,  it  is 
apparent  she  took  no  great  care  to 
avoid  a  further  occasion  of  resent- 
ment :   for  in  a  piece  called  The 
Battle  of  the  Poets,  in  which  was  a 
character  most  abusively  and  scur- 
rilously  aimed  at  the  Laureat,  Mrs. 
Charke,  who  happened   to   be  a 
member  of  the  company  who  per- 
formed it,  was  herself  the  very  per- 
son by  whom  that  character  was 
represented;  astepwhichshe could 
not  have  been  compelled  to  take, 
but  which  must  have  been  a  vo- 
luntary act  of  her  own  in  the  exer- 
tion of  her  resentment,  somewhat 
of  the  same  nature  with  her  con- 
duct towards  Mr.  Fleetwood  -,  but 


105 


C  H  A 

which,  in  consequence  of  the  rela- 
tion she  stood  in  to  Mr.  Cibber, 
must  have  been  the  means  of 
throwing  an  insuperable  bar  in  the 
way  of  any  reconciliation  between 
them. 

But  to  proceed.  During  the 
course  of  these  transactions,  Mr. 
Charke.wtiom  we  have  before  men- 
tioned, had  been  for  some  time 
parted  from  his  wife,  and  had  en- 
gaged himself  to  go  over  to  Ja- 
maica with  a  gentleman  in  the 
mercantile  way,  where,  in  about 
twenty  months  after  his  arrival, 
he  died,  leaving  our  heroine  once 
more  at  liberty  to  unite  herself  by 
the  matrimonial  tie  wherever  she 
should  think  proper.  She  there- 
fore informs  us,  that  soon  after 
her  parting  with  her  property,  as 
above  related,  she  was  very  closely 
addressed  by  a  worthy  gentleman, 
whose  name  she  seems  very  care- 
fell  v  to  conceal,  in  consequence  of 
a  strict  vow  she  had  taken  never  to 
discover  it.  To  this  gentleman 
she  gives  us  to  understand  she  was 
united  by  a  secret  marriage;  but 
as  he  did  not  long  survive  that 
union,  she  was  once  again  left  des- 
titute and  friendless,  nay,  even 
prejudiced  in  her  affairs  from  a 
false  report  of  her  having  by  his 
death  come  into  a  very  consider- 
able fortune.  In  short,  she  was 
soon  after  arrested  for  a  small  sum  ; 
in  consequence  of  which  she  was 
compelled  to  remain  for  some 
hours  in  a  bailiff's  house.  The 
description  she  gives  of  her  sensa- 
tions on  this  occasion,  and  the  dis- 
appointment she  met  with  in  her 
various  applications  for  relief,  are 
natural,  but  not  new ;  and  we  can- 
not say  she  has  done  any  great  ho- 
nour to  the  apparent  choice  she 
must  have  made  of  acquaintance, 
,as  she  informs  us  that  she  had  not 
£een  half  an  hour  in  custody -be- 


C  H  A     . 

fore  she  was  surrounded  by  all  the 
ladies  who  kept  coffeehouses  in 
and  about  Covent  Garden  ;  and 
we  find  her  discharge  at  1  st 
was  brought  about  entirely  by  a 
subscription,  formed  among  a 
number  of  well-known  prostitutes 
and  public  brothel-keepers. 

Being  now  released,  her  sole 
means  of  procuring  a  livelihood 
was  by  seeking  out  for  the, lowest 
kind  of  theatrical  employment,  in 
filling  up  occasionally  such  parts 
as  chanced  to  be  deficient  in  the 
private  exhibitions,  or  rather  but- 
cheries, of  some  of  our  diamatic 
pieces  at  the  Tennis-court,  or  else- 
where :  in  which  business  she  seems 
generally  to  have  chosen  the  male 
characters;  and,  indeed,  she  most 
commonly  used  to  be  dressed  in 
man's  cl  hes  even  iu  private  life  j 
the  reason  of  which  she  affects  to 
make  a  mystery  of,  and  to  imply 
as  if  that  mystery  had  some  refer- 
ence to  her  connexion  with  the 
man  above  mentioned. 

Ee  this  as  it  .may,  we  are  in- 
formed that,  in  the  progress  of  her 
theatrical  adventures  of  this  kind, 
she  met  with  one  whereby  she  was 
for  a  shcrt  time  not  a  little  embar- 
rassed ;  which  was  no  other  than 
her  becoming  the  object  of  a  ten- 
der passion  in  the  bosom  of  a  young 
lady, who,  having  an  immense  for- 
tune in  her  own  possession,  thought 
herself  at  liberty  to  make  an  open 
profession  of  her  love,  and  even  to 
offer  proposals  of  matrimony.  This 
circumstance,  however,  obliged  her 
to  a  declaration  of  her  sex,  to  the 
no  small  disappointment  of  the 
lady ;  and  the  company  of  actors 
she  belonged  to  soon  quisling  the 
town,  the  affair  was  hushed  up, 
and  the  report  of  it  silenced. 

In  this  uncertain  kind  of  em- 
ployment she  continued  till, 
through   the  recommendation   of 


106* 


C  H  A 

her  brother,  she  was  received  into 
the  family  of  a  certain  nobleman, 
in  the  character  of  a  valet-de- 
chambre,  or  gentleman.  In  this 
situation  she  describes  herself  as 
being  very  happy,  till  some  friends 
of  his  Lordship  remarking  an  im- 
propriety in  the  entertaining  one 
of  her  sex  in  that  character,  she 
was  again  discharged,  and  left  to 
the  wide  world. 

Her  next  employment  was  the 
making  and  selling  of  sausages  for 
the  support  of  herself  and  child. 
But    this   failing,    she   became   a 
waiter  at  the  King's  Head  tavern 
at  Marybone  ;  commenced  after- 
wards manager  of  a  strolling  corn- 
pan)'  of  players,  and  passed  through 
several  trivial  adventures,  but  most 
of  them    distressful   ones,    till   at 
length,    by   the  assistance   of  an 
uncle,  she  was  enabled  to  open  a 
public-house,  the  situation  of  which 
she    imprudently  fixed    in    Drury 
Lane ;  and  here,  notwithstanding 
the  experience  her  long  acquaint- 
ance with  misfortune  might,  one 
would  think,  have  given  her,  the 
same  indiscretion  and  mismanage- 
ment, which  before  had  ruined  her, 
still  continued   to   direct  her  ac- 
tions, and  forced  her    in  a  very 
short  time  to  shut  up  her  house, 
and  dispose  of  all  her  effects.    She 
then  engaged  herself  in  the  Hay- 
market  theatre,  under  her  brother 
Mr.  Theophilus  Cibber  ;  but  this 
provision   did  not  long  continue, 
that  gentleman  and  his  company 
being  soon  after  obliged  to  desist, 
by  virtue  of  an  order  from  the  Lord 
Chamberlain. 

Her  next  engagement  was  with 
the  celebrated  Mr.Russel,  the  pup- 
pet-show man,  by  whom,  she  tells 
us,  she  was  employed,  at  a  guinea 
per  day,  to  move  his  figures  during 
his  exhibition  at  Hickford's  Great 
Boom  in  Brewer  Street.     But  af* 


C  H  A 

ter  his  death,  the  distressful  and 
wretched  circumstances  of  which 
she  has  not  badly  related,  she  again 
joined  fortunes  with  different  sets 
of  strolling  players,  among  whom 
she  remained  for  very  near  nine 
years. 

Her  adventures  during  the  course 
of  that  time  being  nothing  but  one 
variegated   scene    of  pitiable   dis- 
tresses, of  a  kind  which  no  one  can 
be  a  stranger  to,  who  has  either 
seen  or  read  the  accounts  of  those 
most  wretched  of  all  human  beings, 
the  members  of  a  mere  strolling 
company  of  actors,  we  shall  be  ex- 
cused  the  entering   into  particu- 
lars, and  be  permitted  to  proceed 
to  her  coming  to  London  in  1755, 
where  she  published  that  narrative 
of  her  own  life,  from  which  this 
account  is  abstracted,  and  which 
therefore  proceeds  so  far  as  to  that 
year.     She  afterwards  kept  a  pub- 
lic-house  at   Islington,    and    was 
doomed  to  fall  still  lower;   as  we 
learn  from  the  following  narrative 
of  Mr.  Whyte,  of  Dublin,  who 
was    present  at   the    transaction  : 
"About   the  year   1/55  she  had 
"  worked  up  a  novel  for  the  press, 
"  which  the  writer  accompanied 
"  his  friend  the  bookseller  to  hear 
"  read.      Her    habitation    was    a 
"  wretched  .thatched  hovel,  situ- 
**  ated  on  the  way  to  Islington,  in 
"  the     purlieus    of    Clerkenwell 
"  Bridewell,  not  very  distant  from 
♦c  the  New-river  Head  ;  where,  at 
"  that  time,  it  was  usual  for  the 
"  scavengers  to  leave  the  cleans- 
"  ings   of    the   streets,    and    the 
"  priests  of  Cloacina  to  deposit  the 
"  offerings  from   the  temples  of 
"  that  all-worshipped  power.  The 
"  night  preceding,  a  heavy  rain  had 
"  fallen,  which  rendered  this  ex- 
"  traordinary  seat  of  the  Muses 
<e  almost  inaccessible;  so  that,  in 
ff  our  approach,  we  got  our  white 


107 


C  H  A 


C  H  A 


"  stockings  enveloped  with  mud 
"  up    to    the  very  calves,   which 
"  furnished  an  appearance  much 
"  in  the  present  fashionable  style 
'*  of  half- boots.     We  knocked  at 
"  the  door  (not  attempting  to  pull 
"  the    latch-string),    which    was 
"  opened  by  a  tall,  meagre,  ragged 
"  figure,  with  a  blue  apron,  indi- 
"  eating,  what    else    might  have 
"  been  doubted,  the  feminine  gen- 
"  der ;    a  perfect   model   for  the 
"  Copper  Captain's  tattered  land- 
"  lady,  that  deplorable  exhibition 
"  of  the  fair  sex  in  the  comedy  of 
"  Rule  a  Wife.     She,  with  a  tor- 
"  pid  voice  and  hungry  smile,  de- 
"  sired  us  to  walk   in.     The  first 
"  object  that  presented  itself  was  a 
"  dresser,  clean  it  must  be  con- 
"  fessed,  and  furnished  with  three 
"  or  four  coarse  delft  plates;  andun- 
"  derneath  an  earthen  pipkin,  and  a 
u  black  pitcher  with  a  snip  out  of 
"  it.     To  the  right  we  perceived, 
"  and   bowed  to,  the  mistress  of 
"  the  mansion,  sitting  on  a  maim- 
**  ed  chair,  under  the  mantlepiece, 
"  by  a  fire  merely  sufficient  to  put 
"  us  in  mind  of  starving.    On  one 
"  hob  sat  a  monkey,   which,  by 
'f  way  of  welcome,  chattered   at 
•*  our  going  in  ;  on  the  other,  a 
*'  tabby  cat  of  melancholy  aspect ; 
"  and  at  our  author's  feet,  on  the 
"flounce  of  her  dingy  petticoat, 
"  reclined  a  dog,  almost  a  skele- 
"  ton  !     He  raised    his    shagged 
"  head,  and,  eagerly  staring  with 
"  his  bleared  eyes,  saluted  us  with 
"  a  snarl.     '  Have  done,  Fidele ! 
*'  these  are  friends.'     The  tone  of 
"  her  voice  was  not  harsh ;  it  had 
"  something  in   it  humbled   and 
"  disconsolate  ;    a  mingled   effort 
"  of  authority  and  pleasure.    Poor 
"  soul !  few  were  her  visitors  of 
**  that  description  ;  no  wonder  the 
"  creature   barked  !     A   magpie, 
"  perphed  on  the  top  rung  of  her 


"  chair,    not  an  uncomely  orfta- 
"  ment !    and    on    her    lap   was 
"  placed  a  mutilated  pair  of  bel- 
"  lows  :    the  pipe   was   gone,  an 
"  advantage  in  their  present  otficej 
**  they  served  as  a   succedaneum 
"  for  a  writing-desk,  on  which  lay 
"  displayed  her  hopes  and    trea- 
"  sure,  the  manuscript  ot  her  no- 
"  vel.    Her  inkstand  was  a  broken 
"  teacup ;    the    pen    worn    to    a 
'■*  stump  :   she  had  but  one  !     A 
"  rough   deal   board,   with    three 
"  hobbling  supporters,  was  brought 
"  for  our  convenience  ;   on  which, 
"  without  further   ceremony,  we 
"  contrived  to  sit  down,  and  en- 
"  tered  upon  business.    The  work 
"  was  read,  remarks  made,  alter- 
"  ations  agreed  to,  and  thirty  gui- 
"  neas   demanded   for  the   copy. 
"  The  squalid  handmaiden,  who 
"  had  been  an  attentive  listener, 
"  stretched    forward    her    tawny 
"  length  of  neck  with  an  eye  of 
"  anxious  expectation  !  The  book- 
"  seller  offered  five  !   Our  author- 
"  ess  did  not  appear  hurt ;  disap- 
"  pointments   had    rendered     her 
"  mind  callous :    however,    some 
"  altercation  ensued.    The  visitor, 
"  seeing  both  sides  pertinacious,  in- 
"  terposed,  and,  at  his  instance,  the 
tl  wary   haberdasher  of   literature 
"  doubled  his  first  proposal  ;   with 
"  this    saving    proviso,    that    Ins 
"  friend  present  would  pay  a  moi- 
"  ety,  and  run  one  half  the  risk  j 
"  which    was    agreed   to.      Thus 
"  matters    were    accommodated, 
"  seemingly  to  the  satisfaction  of 
"  all  parties  ;  the   lady's   original 
"  stipulation    of   fifty    copies    for 
"  herself  being  previously  acceded 
"  to." 

She  concluded  a  life,  which  had 
been  one  continued  course  of  mi- 
sery, the  evident  consequence  of 
folly,  imprudence,  and  absurdity, 
on  the  6th  of  April  17o'0,  having 


103 


C  H  A 

not  long  survived  her  father  and 
brother ;  some  account  of  whose 
lives  our  readers  will  find  a  little 
further  in  this  work. 

Ciiaknock,  John,  was  born 
Nov.  28,  1756,  the  only  son  of 
John  Charnock,  Esq.  a  native  of 
Barbadoes,  and  formerly  an  advo- 
cate of  eminence  at  the  English 
bar,  by  Frances,  daughter  of  Tho- 
mas Boothby,  Esq.  of  Chingford, 
in  Essex.  About  1/67  he  was 
placed  at  the  Rev.Keynell  Cotton's 
school,  at  Winchester,  and  went 
from  thence  to  the  college,  where, 
in  the  station  of  a  commoner,  he 
was  under  the  immediate  care  of 
Dr.  Joseph  Warton,  the  head  mas- 
ter, in  whose  house  ha  boarded. 
Having  attained  to  the  seniority 
of  the  school,  and  gained  the  prize 
medal  annually  given  for  elocu- 
tion, he  removed  from  Winchester 
to  Oxford,  and  was  entered,  in 
1774,  a  gentleman  commoner  of 
Merton  College.  Here  he  soon 
discovered  his  passion  for  literary 
composition,  in  a  multiplicity  of 
fugitive  pieces  on  various  subjects, 
which  appeared  in  the  periodical 
prints  of  the  time,  particularly 
some  political  essa)s  under  the  sig- 
natures of  Casca,  Squib,  and  Jus- 
tice. He  left  the  university,  to 
return  to  a  domestic  life,  wholly 
unsuited  to  the  boundless  activity, 
both  of  mind  and  body,  for  which 
he  was  remarkable,  and  rendered 
almost  intolerable  by  certain  family 
differences.  He  now  applied  him- 
self to  the  study  of  naval  and  mi* 
litary  tactics,  in  which  he  soon 
attained  the  highest  degree  of 
science  that  can  be  gained  in  the 
closet.  Anxious  to  nut  in  practice 
the  theory  of  which  he  had  thus 
become  master,  he  earnestly  press- 
ed for  permission  to  embrace  the 
naval  or  military  profession.  He 
was  at  that  time  the  sole  heir  to  a 


C  H  A 

very  considerable  fortune,  and  the 
darling  of  his  parents ;  and  these 
very  facts  constituted  his  greatest 
misfortune.  His  request  was  po- 
sitively denied  ;  and,  unable  to 
resist  the  impulse  of  his  inclination, 
he  entered  as  a  volunteer  into  the 
naval  service,  and  very  soon  at- 
tained that  proficiency,  of  which 
his  publications  on  the  subject  will 
be  lastjng  monuments.  A  sense 
of  duty,  however,  withdrew  him 
again  into  private  life ;  but  his 
mind  had  received  a  wound  in  the 
disappointment,  which  was  never 
afterwards  healed.  He  dedicated 
his  retirement  incessantly  to  his 
pen,  the  profits  of  winch  labour 
now  constituted  nearly  his  whole 
revenue.  Largely  benevolent  t» 
every  case  of  distress  that  pre- 
sented itself  to  him,  and  at  the 
same  time  indifferent  to  the  more 
common  objects  of  human  pru- 
dence, it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at 
that  he  should  fall  into  embarrass- 
ments in  his  pecuniary  circum- 
stances. The  sources  from  which 
he  had  the  fairest  right  to  expect 
relief  were,  unaccountably  closed 
against  him;  and  he  died,  we 
believe,  in  the  King's  Bench, 
May  id,  1807;  leaving  a  widow, 
Mary,'the  daughter  of  Mr.  Peregrine 
Jones,  of  Philadelphia,  whose  coo- 
duct  in  the  vicissitudes  of  her  hus- 
band's fortune  had  been  exemplary. 
He  iras  buried  at^Lee,  near  Black- 
heath,  with  considerable  ceremony 
and  expense.  Mr.  Charnock  left 
behind  Kim  a  play,  which  has  since 
been  printed,  viz. 

Loyally,  or,  Invasion  Defeated. 
Hist.  Trag;     8vo.  1810. 

His  other  principal  works  are> 
The  Rights  of  a  Free  People,  8vo. 
17^2;  Biograpkia  Navalis,  6  vow. 
8vo.  1794,  &c. ;  A  History  of  Ma- 
rine Architecture,  3  vols.  4to.  1S0!2j 
and  a  Life  of  Lord  Nelson,  1800. 


109 


c  n  a 


Chattertobt,  Thomas.     This 
extraordinary  young  man,  whose 
abilities.seem  to  baye  been  destined 
to  create    animosities  among  the 
learned,    was   born    at   Bristol  on 
the  20th  of  November  1/52.    His 
father  was  master  of  the  charity- 
school   of  St.  Mary  Redcliff,  and 
died  when  his  son  was  very  young. 
From  his   father's  successor,  Mr. 
Love,    he   received    the  only  in- 
struction that  was  bestowed  on  him 
in  his  early  years.     On  the  3d  of 
August    l/oO,   he   was    admitted 
into   Colston's    Bluecoat   School, 
where  writing  and  accounts  only 
were  taught,  and  continued  there 
seven  years.     He  then  went  into 
the  office  of  Mr.  Lambert,  an  at- 
torney, with  whom  he  remained 
until  April  17/0,  when  he  quitted 
Bristol,  and  came  to  London,  de- 
termining for  the  future  to  rely  on 
his  pen  for  subsistence.     He  im- 
mediately commenced  a  \f  riter  for 
Magazines  and    other  periodical 
publications ;  but  the  profits  ari- 
sing from  these  were  too  small  to 
keep  him  from  distress.     On   the 
22d  of  August,  in  the  same  year, 
in  a  fit  of  despair,  he  swallowed 
arsenic,  and  put  a  period  to  his 
life,  at  the  age  of  seventeen  years, 
nine  months,  and  two  days. 

The  annals  of  literature  do  not 
furnish  an  instance  of  such  mira- 
culous talents,  as  Mr.  Walpole 
properly  calls  them,  being  pos- 
sessed by  any  person  so  young  as 
our  author  was  when  he  destroyed 
himself;  and  it  is  to  be  lamented 
that  his  merit  was  not  known  early 
enough  to  prevent  his  wretched 
catastrophe.  Could  the  several 
poems,  produced  under  the  name 
ot  Rowley,  be  received  as  genuine, 
the  extent  of  Chatterton's  abilities 
would  still  appear  amazing,  and 
even  from  pieces  concerning  whieh 


C  H  A 

there  is  no  dispute,  especially  whe« 
their  number  and  his  age  are  con* 
sidered.  But  Avhen  we  reflect, 
that,  after  every  inquiry  which 
some  of  the  most  intelligent  gen- 
tlemen of  the  present  age  have 
made  concerning  the  disputed  po- 
ems, and  the  evidence  which  ac- 
companies them,  they  are  con- 
vinced of  their  being  the  produc- 
tions of  modern  times,  and  even 
of  Chatterton  himself,  the  unpa- 
ralleled genius  of  this  youth,  and 
his  early  propensities  towards  for- 
gery, must  ever  engage  our  at- 
tention and  astonishment.  That 
all  the  pieces  produced  by  him. 
were  really  of  his  own  composi- 
tion, seems  now  to  be  generally 
acknowledged  ;  and  the  conscious 
silence  of  the  advocates  for  their 
antiquity  sufficiently  shows  that 
little  can  be  opposed  to  the  proofs 
brought  in  support  of  his  title  to 
them.  We  therefore  venture  to 
ascribe  them  to  him,  and  on  their 
account  insert  his  name  in  the  pre- 
sent list  of  dramatic  authors. 
His  dramas  are  as  follow: 

1.  The  Tournament.     Int. 

2.  Mlla.     T.  Int. 

3.  Goddwyn.  A  Tragedy.  Un- 
finished. 

4.  The  Parliament  of  Sprites. 
Int.     8vo.  1789. 

5.  The  Revenge.  Burl.  8vo. 
1795. 

6.  The  Woman  of  Spirit.  Burl. 
1770;   8vo.  1803. 

He  also  wrote  two  scenes  of  a 
tragedy  call§d, 

7.  TheDowager ;  which  are  still 
in  MS. 

Chaves,  A.  Of  this  author 
we  can  trace  nothing  further  than 
that  he  wrote  one  play  called 

The-Cares  of  Love.  C.  4to.  1705. 

He  does  not,  however,  appear  to 
have  been  a  person  of  any  coo  si- 


110 


CHE 

derable  note,  by  his  piece  being 
dedicated  to  Sir  William  Read,  the 
mountebank. 

Cheeke,  Henry.  Of  this  gen- 
tleman nothing  more  is  known, 
than  the  finding  his  name  in  Cox- 
eier's  MS.  notes,  as  author,  or  ra- 
ther as  translator  from  the  Italian, 
of  a  play  called 

Free  Will  TV.  4to.  Bl.  L. 
No  date. 

Chere\si,B.Fkeke.  AFrench 
gentleman,  and  author  of  several 
productions   in  that   language,  in 
various  departments  of  literature; 
and  who  protases  the   following 
play  to  have  been  "   his  first  at- 
'•'  tempt  in  the  English  language:" 
The  Prejudices.    C.    8vo.  1796. 
Cherk\,  Andrew,  is  the  eldest 
son  of  the  hue  Mr.  John  Cherry, 
printer  and    bookseller,  at  Lime- 
rick, in  Ireland,  and  was  born  in 
that  city  Jan.  11,  176'-*;  and,  hav- 
i        received  a  respectable  educa- 
tion at   a  grammar-school   there, 
was  intended   by  his  father  to  be 
qualified  for  holy  orders  by  ma-r 
triculation  in  a  university;  but,  by 
disappointments  in  life,  his  parent 
was  obliged  to  abandon  this  inten- 
tion, and,  at  eleven  years  of  age, 
Andrew  was  placed  under  the  pro- 
tection of  Mr.  James  Potts,  printer 
and   bookseller,   in  Dame  Street, 
Dublin,  and  by  him  initiated   in 
hi     irl  and  mystery.    From  an  an- 
cient  friendship,  which  had  sub- 
sisted between  Mr.  Potts  and  Mr. 
Cherry,  Andrew  was  particularly 
favoured  by  his  master,  and  made 
his  constant  companion  in  all  re- 
creations, &c.  Among  other  amuse- 
ments, Mr.  Potts  was   extremely 
attached  to  theatrical  exhibitions  ; 
and,  perceiving  that  his  pupil's  in- 
clination   bent  ,  strongly   to    that 
point,  he  seldom  visited  the  theatre 
without  taking  young Cherry  with 


CHE 

bibed  an  early  predilection  for  the 
stage; — a  general  taste  of  this  na- 
ture  pervades    the   youth   of   the 
Irish    metropolis ;    and  many  or- 
naments of  the  sock  and  buskin 
in  both  kingdoms,  at  the  present 
day,  were,  in  their  juvenile  pur- 
suits,   the  dramatic  companions, 
in   private   acting,   &c.    of  young 
Cherry,  who  had,  at   the  age  of 
fourteen,  made  his  first  appearance 
as  Lucia,  in  the  tragedy  of  Cato, 
in  a  large  room  at  the  Blackamoor's 
Head,   Towers's    Street,    Dublin. 
At  the  age  of  seventeen,  he  spurn- 
ed typography,  and  boldly  entered 
the  dramatic  lists,  making  his  de- 
lut  as  a  professional  actor,  in  a 
little  town  called  Naas,  fourteen 
miles    from  Dublin,    in    a   small 
strolling  group,  principally  com- 
posed of  runaway  boys  and  girls, 
and  then  under  the  management 
of  a  Mr.  Martin.     His  first  cha- 
racter was  Colonel  Feignwell  (Bold 
Stroke  for  a    Wife),  an  arduous 
task  for  a  boy  of  seventeen,  the 
character  requiring   a  discrimina- 
tion  so  various,  and  a  flexibility 
of  talent  that  is  rarely  met  with 
even  in  the  veterans  of  the  stage. 
The  applause  was  great ;  and  the 
manager  of  this  sharing  company, 
after  passing  many  encomiums  on 
his  exertions,  presented  him  with 
10|rf.  as  his  dividend  of  the  profits 
of  that  night's  performance.  Young 
Cherry  afterwards  launched  into  a 
most  extensive  range  of  charac- 
ters ;  for,  being  blest  with  a  pe- 
culiar facility  of  study,  in  the  space 
often  months  with  this  manager, 
he  acted  almost  all  the  principal 
characters  in  tragedy,  comedy,  ani 
farce ;  and,  during  the  same  pe- 
riods, suffered  all  the  vicissitude 
and  distress  concomitant  to  such  a 
precarious  mode  of  existence.    His 
friends   have   heard  him.  declare, 


him.    Thus  encouraged.,  he  im-    that,  though  constantly  employed 


1-11 


CHE 

m  such  laborious  study  as  is  im- 
plied in  what  we  have  just  said  of 
his  range  of  characters,  he  never 
was  in  possession  of  a  guinea  during 
the  whole  ten  months  3  he  was 
frequently  without  the  means  of 
common  sustenance,  and  some- 
times even  unable,  to  buy  the  very 
candles  by  which  he  should  study 
the  characters  that  were  so  nume- 
rously allotted  to  him.  In  the 
town  of  Athlone,  we  are  told,  a 
circumstance  of  particular  distress 
attended  our  hero;  but  which  he 
bore  with  all  the  magnanimity 
that  dramatic  ardour  could  in- 
spire. The  business  of  the  theatre 
was  suspended  for  a  short  time, 
iu  consequence  of  the  benefits 
having  turned  out  bad  :  the  ma- 
nager was  resolved  not  to  waste 
any  more  bills,  but  wait  for  the 
races,  which  were  to  commence 
in  a  few  days.  Our  hero  being  of 
a  timid  and  bashful  turn,  and  as- 
sisted by  a  portion  of  youthful 
pride,  was  incapable  of  making 
those  advances,  and  playing  off 
that  train  of  theatrical  tricking, 
by  which  means  benefits  are  fre- 
quently obtained  in  the  country, 
and  therefore  he  had  been  less 
successful  than  many  of  his  bre- 
thren. His  landlady,  perceiving 
there  was  no  prospect  of  payment, 
satisfied  herself  for  the  trifle  al- 
ready due,  by  seizing  on  the  rem- 
nant of  our  hero's  wardrobe  ;  and 
knowing  she  could  dispose  of  her 
lodgings  to  more  advantage  during 
the  races,  turned  him  out  to  the 
mercy  of  the  winter's  wind,  which 
he  endured  with  all  his  former 
philosophy.  He  rambled  care- 
lessly about  the  streets,  sometimes 
quoting  passages  to  himself,  both 
comic  and  serious,  that  were  ana- 
logous to  his  situation,  but  with- 
out forming  one  determined  idea 
of  where  he  was  to  rest  his  house- 


CHE 

less  head.  Towards  the  close  of 
the  evening  he  strolled  by  acci- 
dent into  the  lower  part  of  the 
theatre,  which  had  formerly  been 
an  inn,  and  was  then  occupied  by 
a  person  whose  husband  had  been 
a  serjeant  of  dragoons,  for  the 
purpose  of  retailing  refreshments, 
&c.  to  those  who  visited  the  the- 
atre. After  chatting  until  it  grew 
late,  the  woman  hinted  to  our 
hero  that  she  wished  to  go  to  bed, 
and  begged  he  might  retire;  upon 
which  he  replied,  in  the  words  of 
Don  John,  "  I  was  just  thinking 
"  of  going  home,  but  that  I  have 
"  no  lodging."  The  good  woman, 
taking  the  words  literally,  inquired 
into  the  cause,  with  which  he  ac- 
quainted her  without  disguise, 
lieing  the  mother  of  a  family,  she 
felt  severely  for  his  distressed  situa- 
tion :  at  that  time  he  did  not  pos- 
sess a  single  halfpenny  in  the 
world,  nor  the  means  of  obtaining 
one.  The  poor  creature  shed  tears 
of  regret  that  she  could  not  ef- 
fectually alleviate  his  misfortune. 
He  endeavoured  to  assume  a  care- 
less gaiety  ;  but  the  woman's  un- 
affected sorrow  brought  the  reflec- 
tion of  his  own  disobedience  to 
his  mind,  and  he  dropped  tears  in 
plenteous  libation  :  in  his  grief  he 
saw  the  sorrow  of  his  parents, 
whom  he  had  deserted,  to  follow 
what  he  began  to  perceive  a  mad 
career,  in  despite  of  the  many  un* 
answered  remonstrances  he  had 
received,  with  a  fair  promise  of 
forgiveness  and  affection,  should 
he  return  to  his  business.  This 
philanthropic  female  lamented  that 
she  could  not  furnish  him  with 
a  bed,  but  offered  to  lend  him  her 
husband's  cloak,  and  to  procure  a 
bundle  of  dry  hay,  that  he  mi^ht 
sleep  in  an  empty  room  in  her 
house.  His  heart  was  too  full  to 
pay  his  gratitude   in  words;    hi^ 


112 


C  II  E 

eyes  thanked  her;  he  wept  bit- 
terly, accepted  her  kind  offer,  and 
retired  to  rest.  The  intruding  any 
farther  on  her  kindness  was  pain- 
ful to  him,  as  she  was  struggling 
to  maintain  a  numerous  offspring. 
He  therefore  carefully  avoided  the 
house  at  meal-times,  and  wander- 
ed through  the  fields  or  streets, 
until  he  supposed  their  repasts  were 
finished :  at  last,  so  overcome  by 
fasting  and  fatigue,  that  he  could 
not  rest,  he  rose  from  his  trooper's 
cloak  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  and 
explored  the  kitchen,  searching  the 
dresser  and  all  its  shelves  and' 
drawers,  in  hopes  of  finding  some- 
thing that  might  satisfy  the  cravings 
of  his  appetite,  but  in  vain.  On 
his  return  to  Ins  hay-truss,  he  ac- 
cidentally struck  against  the  ki 
table,  the  noise  of  which  he  feared 
might  alarm  the  family  ;  and, 
certain  of  the  real  cause  of  his 
leaving  his  apartment  at  that  hour, 
they  might  naturally  suppose  that 
his  purpose  was  to  rob  the  house, 
as  a  reward  for  their  hospitality  : 
the  idea  added  to  the  misery  he 
then  suffered ;  he  trembled,  he 
listened,  but  all  was  quiet ;  and 
then  renewed  his  search  (for  his 
Lunger  overcame  his  fears),  and 
to  his  gratification  he  found  a  large 
crust  of  stale  bread,  which  he  was 
afterwards  informed  had  been  used 
for  rubbing  out  some  spots  of  white 
paint  from  the  very  cloak  that  com- 
posed hi*  bedding";  he, however,  ate 
it  with  avidity,  as  he  was  entering 
on  the  fourth  day  without  the  least 
refreshment,  and  returned  heartfelt 
thanks  to  Providence,  whose  om- 
nipotent hand  was  stretched  in  the 
very  critical  moment,  to  save  him 
from  the  most  direful  of  all  pos- 
sible deaths,  starving ! 

At  length,  after  enduring  more 
than  the  usual  hardships  attendant 
on  a  strolling  life,  he  left  the  stage, 


C  H  E 

once  more  "  returned  to  reason 
"  and  the  shop,"  and  remained  at 
home  upwards  of  three  years. 
Anon  the  theatrical  drum  beat  in 
his  ears  3  he  forgot  the  misery  of 
his  former  campaigning ;  the  glory 
of  it  oniy  remaining  in  his  recoi- 
led ion;  and,  after  making  some 
excursions  of  little  moment,  he 
joined  a  respectable  corps  under 
the  command  of  Mr.  Richard  Wil- 
liam Knipe,  a  well-known  dra- 
matic veteran,  a  scholar,  and  a 
gentleman,  whose  facetious  and 
eccentric  character  will  be  ever 
remembered  with  pleasure  by  all 
who  knew  him.  In  his  company 
Cherry  enjoyed  much  comfort  and 
satisfaction  .aimed  attached 

to  it  till  Mr.  Knipe's  death ;  he 
then  joined  the  ■;ip',ir>al  provin- 
cial company  of  Ireland  under  the  - 
management  of  Mr.  Atkins,  where 
he  filled  a  most  extensive  round  of 
characters,  and  for  many  years 
was  the  popular  favourite  of  the 
north  of  Ireland.  Here  he  mar- 
ried the  daughter  of  his  old  friend 
and  manager  Mr.  Knipe,  by  whom 
he  has  had  a  large  family. 

Mr.  Ryder  having,  in  1/87, 
been  engaged  for  Covent  Garden, 
Mr.  Cherry,  whose  provincial  re- 
putation had  reached  the  capital, 
was  called  up  from  Belfast  to  sup- 
ply his  place  at  the  Theatre  Royal, 
Smock  Alley,  Dublin.  Here,  for 
six  years,  little  Cherry  (as  he  was 
familiarly  called)  stood  at  the  top 
of  his  profession  in  the  comic  line. 

Having"  long  entertained  a  desire 
of  visiting  England,  he  engaged 
himself  and  Mrs.  Cherry  to  Tate 
Wilkinson,  at  the  time  when  Mr. 
Fawcett  was  called  to  Covent  Gar- 
den, whose  situation  he  filled  at 
the  Theatres  Royal  of  York,  Hull, 
&c.  for  three  years ;  when  he 
again  returned  to  his  native  coun- 
try.   He  continued  two  seasons  it 


CHE 

Ireland ;  after  which  the  mana- 
ger's irregular  payments,  and  other 
disgusting  circumstances,  induced 
him  to  return  to  England.  He 
accepted  an  engagement  with 
Messrs.  Ward  and  Banks,  mana- 
gers of  the  Theatre  Royal,  Man- 
chester, where,  with  his  wife,  he 
successfully  performed  two  years. 
From  thence  he  went  to  Bath,  and 
for  four  seasons  enjoyed  an  ample 
share  of  public  favour. 

On  the  abdication  of  the  late  Mr. 
King,  Mr.  Cherry  was  engaged 
at  Drury  Lane,  where  he  made 
his  appearance  on  'the  25th  of 
September  1802,  in  the  characters 
of  Sir  Benjamin  Dove  and  Laza- 
rillo,  and  was  received  with  great 
applause. 

Quitting  now  Mr.  Cherry  as 
an  actor,  it  remains  for  us  to 
notice  him  as  a  dramatic  writer; 
in  which  character  we  h3ve  to 
assign  to  him  the  following  pieces  : 

1 .  Harlequin  on  the  Stocks.  Pant. 
Rom.  1793. 

2.  The  Outcasts.  Opera.  1796. 
Not  printed. 

3.  Soldier's  Daughter.  C.  Svo. 
1804. 

4.  All  for  Fame.  Com.  Sketch. 
1805.     N.  P. 

5.  The  Village.  C.  1805.  N.  P. 

6.  The  Travellers.  Op.  Dram. 
8vo.  1S06. 

7.  Thalia's  Tears.  Poet.  Effus. 
ISOrj.    N.  P. 

8.  Spanish  Dollars.  M.  Ent. 
Svo.  1806. 

9.  Peter  the  Great.  Op.  Dr. 
8vo.  1807. 

10.  A  Day  in  London.  C.  IS07. 
Not  printed. 

Mr.  Cherry  is  at  present  ma- 
nager of  a  theatrical  company  in 
Wales. 

Chettle,  Henry.  Of  this 
prolific  writer,  who  seems  to  have 
been  assisting  in  many  dramatic 

VOL.  I. 


113 

C  II  E 

productions  by  other  authors  of  h'« 
time,  only  one  piece,  entirely  his 
own,  will  be  seen  to  have  been 
printed,  according  to  the  follow - 
lowing  list: 

1.  Apneas' s  Revenge.  Tr.  159S. 
N.  P. 

2.  Black  Batman.  P.  1598.  N.P. 

3.  Hut   Anger   soon    cold.      P. 
15pS.     N.  P. 

4.  Play  of  a  Woman.  1593.  N.P. 

5.  'Th  no  Deceit  to  deceive  the 
Deceiver.     P.     1598.     N.  P. 

6.  Agamemnon.  P.   1599.  N.P. 
/.  Damon  and  Pythias.  P.  1599. 

N.  P. 

8.  Stepmother's  Tragedy,    Play. 
1599.     N.P. 

9.  The    Wooing  of  Death.     P. 
I099.     N.  P. 

10.  All  is  not  Gold  that  glisters. 
P.     l600.     N.  P. 

11.  The  Go/den  Ass.  P.  1600. 
N.P. 

12.  Love  parts  Friendship.  P. 
1601.     N.  P. 

13.  The  Orphan's  Tragedy.  P. 
1601.     N.  P. 

14.  Robert  Earl  of  Huntingdon's 
Death.  H.  P.  4to.  16OI.  [in  con- 
junction with  Mundy.] 

15.  Sebastian,  King  of  Portugal. 
P.     1601.     N.  P. 

16.  Too  Good  to  he  True.     P. 

1601.  N.  P. 

17.  Danish  Tragedy.  1 602.  N.P. 

18.  Felmelaneo.  P.  1602.  N.  P. 

19.  Jane  Shore.  P.   1602.  N.P. 

20.  Jephtha.     P.     1002.     N.P. 

21.  Lady  Jane.    P.    1602.  N.P. 

22.  The  Isjudon  Florentine.     P. 

1602.  N.  P. 

23.  Tobias.     P.      1602.     X.  P. 

24.  Hoffman.     T.     4to.  1631. 
To    Chettle     also    has     been 

ascribed, 

25.  Cardinal  Wolsey.  P.  1601. 
N.P. 

Chetwood,  William  Rufus, 
This  author  for  some  time  kept  4 
1 


114 


CHE 
bookseller's  shop  in  --Coven t -Gar- 
den. He  was  also  for  twenty 
years  prompter  to  Drury  Lane 
theatre,  and  in  that  very  laborious 
and  useful  office  was  esteemed  to 
have  great  excellence.  Though 
no  actor  himself,  yet,  from  being 
so  conversant  with  the  stage,  and 
with  the  various  manners  of -dif- 
ferent eminent  performers,  he  be- 
came no  bad  theatrical  instructor; 
and  to  the  pains  -he-took  in  that 
business  some  considerable  actors 
stood  indebted  for  part  at  least  of 
their  early  approbation.  In  parti- 
cular it  has  been  asserted,  not'only 
by  Mr  Chetwood  himself,  but  by 
others,  that  Mr.  Barry  received 
his  first  rudiments  of  theatrical  ac- 
tion from  this  gentleman  ;  as  did 
also  a  lady,  who  for  many  years 
stood  in  high  estimation  with  the 
audiences  of  Dublin,  viz.  Mrs. 
Fitzhenry,  formerly  Airs.  Gre- 
gory. 

Mr.  Chetwood  by  his  first  wife 
had  a  daughter,  who  was  bred  up 
to  the  theatrical  life,  and  was  mar- 
ried to  one  Mr.  Gemea.  His  se- 
cond wife  was  a  grand-daughter 
of  Mr.  Colley  Cibber.  Mr. 
Chetwood  was  living  in  Dublin 
in  the  year  1/60,  when  a  play 
was  acted  for  his  benefit.    He  was 


.     CO 
1.   South-Sea.     F.     8vo.  1/20. 

3.  Lover's  Opera.     8vo.  ]  72.9. 

4.  Generous  Free  Mason.    T.  C 
F.  B.    Opera.     8vo.  1731. 

Chkist  iax.Lieuten  ant  T.  P. 
has  published  two  dramatic  pieces, 
viz. 

1.  .Revolution.   Hist.  Play.    Svo. 

]  "00. 

2.  The  Nuptials.  Mas.  Dram. 
Svo.  17.01. 

Chkistopherson,  John,  one 
of  the  first  Fellows  of  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge,  and  afterwards 
Bishop  of  Chichester,  wrote,  both 
in  Latin  and  Greek, 

Jephtha.     T.     1540. 

Cibbes,  Colley.  This  gen- 
tleman, to  whom  the  English  stage 
has  been  in  many  respects  highly 
obliged,  both  as  en  actor  and  a 
writer  ;  and  in  the  latter  character 
doubly  so,  by  being  not  only 
greatly  assistant  in  supporting  it  by 
his  numerous  and  entertaining 
dramatic  pieces,  but  also  its  his- 
toriographer through  a  long  and 
important  period;  has  given  us 
so  very  pleasing  and  impartial  a 
detail  of  the  most  material  circum- 
stances of  his  life,  that  we  cannot 
apply  to  a  more  perfect  source  of 
intelligence  concerning  it  than  what 
that  work   will   afford  us,    more 


then  a  prisoner  for  debt,  and,  in     especially  as   in  it  lie  has  drawn 
a  note  to  the  prologue  spoken  on     the  most  candid  portrait  of    the 


that  occasion,  it  was  asserted,  that 
his  old  pupil  Barry,  in  his  greatest 
distress,  had  refused  him  any  as- 
sistance !  He  survived  till  March  3, 
1  /(i'o.  -Chetwood  wrote  some  pieces 
in  the  novel  way,  and  a  work  called 
A  General  History  of  the  Stage, 
which,  however,  has  very  little, 
.or -rather  indeed  no  merit.  He 
lias  also  written  the  following  dra- 
matic pieces : 

1 .  The  Stock- Jolhers  ;  or,  The 
Humours  of  Exchange  Alley.  C. 
£vp.  1/20. 


features  of  his  mind,  as  well  as 
the  clearest  narrative  of  the  effects 
produced  by  the  different  combi- 
nations of  the  several  parts  of  his 
natural  disposition.  From  that, 
therefore,  the  greater  part  of  the 
following  account  will,  in  as  con- 
cise a  manner  as  possible,  be  ab- 
stracted. 

Mr.  Cibber  was  born  on  the 
6th  of  November,  O.  S.  1671, 
in  Southampton  Street,  .Covent 
Garden.  His  father,  Caius  Gabriel 
Cibber,  was  a  native  of  HolsteiOj 


115 


C  I  B 

arid  came  into  England,  to  follow 
his  profession  of  a  statuary,  soire 
time  before  the  restoration  of 
King  Clr.irles  II.  The  eminence 
to  which  he  attained  in  his  art  may 
be  judged  from  the  two  celebrated 
images  of  raging  and  melancholy 
madness  on  the  two  piers  of  the 
great  gate  of  Bethlehem  Hospital, 
and  also  by  die  basso-relievo  on  the 
pedestal  of  that  stupendous  column 
called  the  Monument,  erected  in 
commemoration  of  the  great  fire 
of  London  in  1666.  His  mother 
was  the  daughter  of  William  Col- 
ley,  Esq.  of  Glaiston  ill  Rutland- 
shire, whose  father,  Sir  Anthony 
Colley,  by  his  steady  attachment 
to  the  royal  cause,  during  the 
troubles  of  King  Charles  I.'s  reign, 
reduced  his  estate  from  three  thou- 
sand to  about  three  hundred  pounds 
per  annum.  The  family  of  the 
Colleys,  though  extinct  by  the 
death  of  our  laureat's  uncle,  Ed- 
ward Colley,  Esq.  from  whom 
be  received  his  Christian  name, 
and  who  was  the  last  heir  male  of 
it,  had  been  a  very  ancient  one ; 
it  appearing  from  Wright's  History 
of  RutlandshJre,  that  they  had  been 
sheriffs  and  members  of  Parlia- 
ment from  the  reign  of  Henry  VII. 
to  the  latter  end  of  King  Charles  I. 
In  1682  he  was  sent  to  the  free- 
school  of  Grantham  in  Lincoln- 
shire, wJiere  he  stayed  till  he  got 
through  it,  from  the  lowest  form 
to  the  uppermost ;  and  such  learn- 
ing as  that  school  could  give  him 
is,  as  he  himself  acknowledges, 
the  most  he  could  pretend  to. 
About  lfjSQ  he  was  taken  from 
school,  to  stand  for  the  election  of 
children  into  Winchester  College  ; 
but,  having  no  further  interest  or 
recommendation  than  that  of  his 
own  naked  merit,  and  the  being 
descended  by  the  mother's  side 
irom.  William   of  Wickham   the 


C  I  B 

founder,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  he  was  unsuccessful.  Ra- 
ther pleased  with  what  he  looked 
on  as  a  reprieve  from  the  confined 
life  of  a  schoolboy,  than  piqned 
at  the  loss  of  Jus  election,  he  re- 
turned to  London,  and  there,  even 
thus  early,  concen  ed  an  inclination 
for  the  stage,  which,  however,  he, 
on  more  considerations  than  one, 
thought  proper  \o  suppress  ;  and 
therefore  wrote  down  to  his  father, 
who  was  at  that  lime  employed  at 
Chatsworth  in  Derbyshire,  by  the 
Earl  (afterwards  Duke)  of  Devon- 
shire, in  the  raising  that  seat  to 
the  magnificence  it  has  ever  since 
possessed,  to  entreat  of  him  that 
he  might  be  sent  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible to  the  university.  This  re- 
quest his  father  seemed  very  in- 
clinable to  comply  with,  and  as- 
sured him  in  his  answer,  that,  as 
soon  as  his  own  leisure  would  per- 
mit, he  would  go  with  him  to 
Cambridge,  at  which  university  he 
imagined  he  had  more  interest  to 
settle  him  to  advantage  than  at 
Oxford  5  but  in  the  mean  time 
sent  for  him  down  to  Chatsworth, 
that  he  might  in  the  interim  be 
more  immediately  under  his  own 
eye. 

Before  young  Cibber,  however, 
could  set  out  on  his  journey  for 
that  place,  the  Prince  of  Orange, 
afterwards  King  William  III.  had 
landed  in  the  west,  so  that,  when 
our  author  came  to  Nottingham, 
he  found  his  father  in  arms  there 
among  the  forces  which  the  Earl 
of  Devonshire  had  raised  to  aid 
that  prince.  The  old  man,  con- 
sidering this  as  a  very  proper  season 
for  a  young  fellow  to  distinguish 
himself  in,  and  being  besides  too 
far  advanced  in  years  to  endure 
the  fatigue  of  a  winter  campaign, 
entreated  the  Earl  of  Devonshire 
to  accept  of  this  son  iu-his  room, 
I  2 


no 


C  I  B 

which  his  Lordship  not  only  con- 
sented to,  but  even  promised,  that, 
when  affairs  were  settled,  he  would 
further  pro\  ide  for  him.    Thus  all 


C  I  "B 

was  to  observe  what  the  Lady 
Churchill,  afterwards  Duchess  of 
Marlborough,  might  call  for;  and, 
from  the  manner  in  which  he  has 


at  once  was   the  current  of  our     made  mention  of  that  lady,  it  is 
young  hero's  fortune  entirely  turn-     apparent    that  her  charms  at  that 


ed  into  a  new  channel,  his  thoughts 
of  the  university  were  smothered 
in  ambition,  and  the  intended  aca- 
demician converted,  to  his  inex- 
pressible delight,  into  a  cam- 
paigner. 

They  had  not  been   many  days 


time  made  such  an  impression  on 
his  young  heart,  as,  though  the 
immense  distance  of  her  rank  ob- 
liged, and  at  the  same  time  per- 
haps enabled,  him  to  suppress,  yet 
even  a  course  of  fifty  years,  which 
passed  between   that   period   and 


at  Nottingham  before   they  heard     the  time  of  his  writing  his  Apology, 
that  Prince  George  of  Denmark,     could  not  entirely  efface. 

From  Nottingham  the  troops 
marched  to  Oxford,  where  the 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Denmark 
met.  Here  the  troops  continued 
in  quiet  quarters  till,  on  the  set- 


with  some  other  great  persons, 
were  gone  off  from  the  King  to  the 
Prince  of  Orange,  and  that  the 
Princess  Anne,  fearing  her  father's 
resentment,  in  consequence  of  this 

step  of  her  consort,  had  withdrawn  tling   of   the   public    tranquillity, 

herself  from  London  in  the  night,  they  were  remanded  back  to  Not- 

and  was  then  within  half  a  day's  tingham,  and  those  who  chose  it 

journey  of  Nottingham  ;  and  more-  were     granted     their    discharge; 

over,  that  a  thousand  of  the  King's  among  whom  was  our  author,  who 

dragoons  were  in  pursuit  of  her,  now  quitted  the  field,  and  the  hopes 

in  order  to  bring  her  back  prisoner  of  military  preferment,    and  re- 

to   London.     Although    this   last  turned  to  his  father  at  Chatsworth. 

article  was  no  more  than  a  false  And  now  his  expectations  of  fu- 

alarm,  being  one  of  the  stratagems  ture  fortune,  in  a  great  measure, 

made  use  of  over  the  whole  king-  depended   upon   the   promises   of 

dom,  in  order  to  excite  and  ani-  patronage  which  he  had  received 

mate  the  people  to  their  common  from  the  Earl  of  Devonshire,  who, 

defence  ;  yet  it  obliged  the  troops  on  being  reminded  of  them,  was  so 


to  scramble  to  arms  in  as  much 
order  as  their  consternation  would 
admit  of,  to  hasten  to  her  assistance 
or  rescue;  but  they  had  not  ad- 
vanced many  miles  on  the  London 


good  as  to  desire  his  father  to  send 
him  to  London  in  the  winter, 
when  he  would  consider  of  some 
provision  for  him;  and  our  author, 
with   equal  honour  and  candour, 


road,  before  they  met  the  Princess  acknowledges  that  it  might  well 

in  a  coach,  attended  only  by  Lady  require  time  to  consider  it,  for  that 

Churchill   and  Lady  Fitzharding,  it  was  then  much  harder  to  know 

whom  they  conducted  through  the  what  he  was  really  fit  for,  than  to 

acclamations  of  the  people  to  Not-  have  got  him  any  thing  he  was  not 

tiqgham,    where   they   were   that  fit  for.     During  his  period  of  at- 

night  entertained  at  the  charge  of  tendance  on  this  nobleman,  how- 

the  Earl  of  Devonshire.     On  this  ever,    a    frequent    application    to 

occasion,  Mi .  Cibber  being  desired  the    amusements    of    the   theatre 

by  his  Lordship's    maitre  d'hotel  awakened  in   him  his  passion  for 

to  attend,  the  post  assigned  him  the  stage,  which  he  seemed  now 


11! 


C  I  B 

determined  on  pursuing  as  his 
summum  lonum,  and,  in  spite  of 
father,  mother,  or  friends,  to  fix 
on  as  his  ne  plus  ultra. 

Previous,  however,  to  our  pro- 
ceeding to  the  theatrical  anecdotes 
of  his  life,  it  may  be  proper  to 
mention  one  circumstance,  which, 
though  it  happened  somewhat  later 
than  his  first  commencing  actor,  we 
cannot,  without  an  improper  in- 
terruption, introduce,  with  any 
chronological  exactness,  unless  by 
breaking  into  the  thread  of  our 
narrative  hereafter;  yet  which  is 
an  event  constantly  of  importance 
in  every  man's  history,  and  which 
he  himself  mentions  as  an  instance 
of  his  discretion,  more  desperate 
than  that  of  preferring  the  stage  to 
any  other  views  of  life.  This  is  no 
other  than  his  marriage,  which  he 
entered  into  about  the  year  10"f)3, 
before  he  was  quite  twenty-two 
years  of  age,  merely  on  the  plan 
of  love,  at  a  time  when  he  him- 
self informs  us  he  had  no  more 
than  twenty  pounds  a  year,  which 
his  father  had  assured  to  him,  and 
twenty  shillings  per  week  from  the 
theatre,  which  could  not  amount 
to  above  thirty  pounds  per  annum 
more.  The  lady  he  married  was 
■sister  to  John  Shore,  Esq.  who 
for  many  years  was  serjeant-trum- 
pet  of  England  ;  to  which  gentle- 
man as  Mr.  Cibber  was  one  day 
paying  a  visit,  his  ear  was  charm- 
ed with  the  harmony  of  a  female 
voice,  accompanied  by  a  finger 
which  performed  in  a  masterly 
manner  on  a  harpsichord  :  being 
informed,  on  an  inquiry  which  an 
unusual  curiosity  urged  him  to 
make,  that  both  the  voice  and 
hand  belonged  to  the  sister  of  his 
friend,  he  begged  to  be  introduced, 
and  at  first  sight  was  captivated 
with  the  view  of  every  personal 
charm  that  could  render  a  female 


C  I  B 

amiable  and  attractive.  .  Nor  was 
she  less  delighted  with  the  spright- 
liness  of  his  wit,  and  the  easy 
gaiety  of  his  address.  In  short,  a 
courtship  quickly  commenced  on 
the  foundation  of  a  mutual  pas- 
sion, and  terminated  in  a  marriage 
contrary  to  the  consent  of  the 
young  lady's  father,  who,  though 
he  afterwards  thought  proper  to 
give  her  some  fortune,  yet,  in  the 
suddenness  of  his  resentment,  put 
it  out  of  his  own  power  to  bestow 
on  her  all  that  he  had  originally 
intended  her,  by  appropriating 
great  part  of  what  he  had  so  de- 
signed her  to  the  building  of  a 
little  retirement  on  the  Thames, 
which  was  called  Shore's  Fdly, 
and  which  has  been  demolished 
for  many  years  past. 

But  to  proceed  to  his  dramatic 
history.  It  appears  to  have  been 
about  February  lrjsp,  when  our 
author  first  became  a  dangler  ahout 
the  theatre,  where  for  some  time 
he  considered  the  privilege  of 
every  day  seeing  plays  a  sufficient 
consideration  for  the  best  of  his 
services ;  so  that  he  was  foil  three 
quarters  of  a  year  before  he  was 
taken  into  a  salary  often  shillings 
per  week.  The  insufficiency  of 
his  voice,  and  the  disadvantages 
of  a  meagre  uninformed  person, 
were  bars  to  his  setting  out  as  a 
hero ;  and  all  that  seemed  pro- 
mising in  him  was  an  aptness  of 
ear,  and  in  consequence  of  that  a 
justness  in  his  manner  of  speak- 
ing. The  parts  he  played  were 
very  trivial ;  that  in  which  he  was 
first  taken  any  considerable  notice 
of  being  of  no  greater  consequence 
than  the  Chaplain  in  The  Orphan; 
and  he  himself  informs  us,  that 
the  commendations  he  received  on 
that  occasion  from  Goodman,  a 
veteran  of  eminence  on  the  stage, 
which  he  had  at  that  time  quitted^, 
l  3 


116 


C  t  B 
fried  trim  with  a  transport  which 
could  scarcely  be  exceeded  by  those 
of  Alexander  or  Charles  XII.    at 
the  head  of  their  victorious  armies. 
His  next  step  to  fame  was  in  con- 
sequence of  Queen  Mary's  having 
commanded  The  Double  Dealer  to 
be  acted;  when  Mr.Kynaston,  who 
originally  played  Lord  Touch  wood, 
being  so  ill  as  to  be  entirely  in- 
pable  of  going  on  for   it,  Mr. 
Cibber,  on  the  recommendation  of 
i  !i  ngreve,  the  author  of  the  play, 
undertook  the  part,  and   at   that 
very  short  notice  performed  it  so 
well,  that  Mr.  Congreve  not  only 
p  ud  him  some  very  high  compli- 
ments  on  it,    but   recommended 
him  to  an  enlargement  of  salary 
from  fifteen  to  twenty  shillings  per 
week.     But  even  this  success  did 
not   greatly  elevate   the   rank   of 
estimation  in  which  he  stood  with 
the  patentees  as  an  actor;  for,  on 
the  opening  of  Drury  Lane  theatre 
in  1695,  with   the   remainder  of 


e  1  b 

and  actor,  by  his  first  corned \\ 
called  Love's  Lust  Shij't,  or  The 
Fool  in  Fashion,  were  insufficient 
to  promote  him  to  any  consider- 
able cast  of  parts,  till  the  year 
lt>97  ;  when  Sir  John  Vanbrngh 
did  him  a  double  honour,  viz.  first, 
by  borrowing  the  hint  of  his  co- 
medy for  the  writing  of  his  Uelapse-, 
by  way  of  sequel  to  it ;  and,  se- 
condly, by  fixing  on  him  for  the 
performance  of  his  favourite  cha- 
racter in  it  of  Lord  Foppington. 
In  1/0/,  however,  we  find  him 
considered  by  Mr.  Rich,  the  pa- 
tentee, as  of  some  consequence, 
by  his  excepting  him  from  the 
number  of  the  performers  whom 
he  permitted  Mr.  Swiney  to  eng-.'.ge 
with  for  his  theatre  in  the  Hay- 
market  (though  our  author,  on 
finding  himself  slightingly  used  by 
this  manager,  paid  no  regard  to 
that  exception,  but  joined  Swiney); 
and  in  the  ensuing  year,  when  his 
friend  Colonel    Brett   obtained  a 


the  old  company,  on  the  revolt  of    fourth  share  in  the  patent,  and  the 
Betterton  and  several  of  the  prin-    performers  formed  a  coalition,  and 


cipal  performers  to  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields, an  occasional  prologue  which 
he  had  written,  although  acknow- 
ledged the  best  that  had  been  of- 
fered, and  very  readily  paid  for, 
yet  would  not  be  admitted  to  an 
acceptance  on  any  other  terms 
than  his  absolutely  relinquishing 
any  claim  to  the  speaking  it  himself. 
Soon  after,  his  accepting  of  the 
part  of  Fondlewife  in  The  Old 
Bachelor  on  a  sudden  emergency 
(in  which,  by  the  closest  imitation 
of  Dogget;  who  had  been  the  ori- 
ginal performer  of  it,  not  only  in 
dress,  but  invoice  and  manner,  he 
obtained  an  almost  unbounded 
plaudit  from  the  audience),  gave 
him  some  little  flight  of  reputa- 
tion ;  yet  not  only  this,  but  even 
the  applause  which  in  the  ensuing 


returned  to  Drury  Lane,  Mr.  Cib- 
ber also  acceded  to  the  treaty,  and 
returned  with  them ;  but,  on  the 
silencing  of  the  patent  in  1/Ocj, 
he,  together  with  Wilks,  Dogget, 
and  Mrs.  Oldfield,  went  over  again 
to  Mr.  Swiney. 

In  1/11  he  became  uniied,  aa 
joint-patentee  with  Collier,  Wilks, 
and  Dogget,  in  the  management  of 
Drury  Lane  theatre ;  and  after- 
wards in  a  like  partnership  with 
Booth,  Wilks,  and  Sir  Richard 
Steele.  During  his  latter  period, 
which  did  not  entirely  end  till 
1731,  the  English  stage  was  per- 
haps in  the  most  flourishing  state 
it  ever  enjoyed.  But  the  loss  of 
Booth,  Mrs.  Oldfield,  Mrs.  Porter, 
and  Mr.  Wilks,  lopping  off  its  prin- 
cipal supports,  Mr.  Cibber  sold  out 


year  he  obtained,  both  as  an  author    his  share  of  the  patent,  and. retired 


lit) 


C  I  B 

from  the  public  business  of  the 
stage  ;  to  which,  however,  lie  at  a 
few  particular  periods  occasionally 
returned,  performing  at  no  less  a 
salary,  as  we  have  been  informed, 
than  fifty  guineas  per  night ;  and 
in  the  year  1/-1J,  though  upwards 
of  seventy-four,  he  appeared  in  the 
character  of  Pandulph,  the  Pope's 
legate,  in  his  own  tragedy,  called 
Papal  Tyranny ,-whichhe  perform- 
ed, notwithstanding  his  advanced 
age,  with  great  vigour  and  spirit. 

What  might  perhaps  be  an  ad- 
ditional inducement  to  this  gentle- 
man to  leave  the  stage  at  the' time 
he  did  (when,  as  he  himself  tells 
us,  though  it  began  to  grow  late 
in  life  with  him,  yet,  still  having 
health  and  strength  enough  to 
have  been  as  useful  on  the  stage 
as  ever,  he  was  under  no  visible 
necessity  of  quitting  it),  might  be 
his  having,  in  the  year  1730,  on 
the  death  of  Mr.  Ensden",  been 
promoted  to  the  vacant  laurel;  the 
salary  annexed  to  which,  together 
with  what  he  had  saved  from  the 
emoluments  of  the  theatre,  and  the 
sale  of  his  share  in  the  patent,  set 
him  above  the  necessity  of  con- 
tinuing on  it.  After  a  number  of 
years,  passed  in  the  utmost  ease, 
gaiety,  and  good-humour,  he  de- 
parted this  life,  at  Islington,  on 
the  12th  of  December  1J5J  ;  his 
man-servant  (whom  he  had  talked 
to  by  his  bedside  at  six  in  the 
morning,  in  seeming  good  health) 
finding  him  dead  at  nine,  lying  on 
his  pillow,  just  as  he  left  him.  He 
bad  recently  completed  his  80'th 
year. 

Mr.  Cibber  has,  in  his  own  apo- 
logy for  his  life,  drawn  so  open 
and  candid  a  portrait  of  himself  in 
every  light  in  which  we  can  have 
occasion  to  consider  him,  that  we 
can  by  no  means  do  more  justice 
to  his  character  than  by  takiug  se- 


CI  B 

parately  the  various  features  of  that 
portrait,  to  enable  the  reader  to 
form  an  idea  of  him  in  the  several 
points  of  view,  of  a  man,  au  actor, 
and  a  writer. 

As  a  man,  he  has  told  us,  that, 
even  from  his  school-days,  there 
was  ever  a  degree  of  inconsistency 
in  his  disposition  ;  that  he  was  al- 
ways in  full  spirits;  in  some  small 
capacity  to  do  right,  but  in  a  more 
frequent  alacrity  to  do  wrong;  and 
consequently  often  under  a  worse 
character  than  he  wholly  deserved. 
A  giddy  negligence  always  pos- 
sessed him ;  insomuch,  that  he  tells 
us,  he  remembers  having  been  once 
whipped  for  his  theme,  though  his 
master  told  him  at  the  same  time, 
that  what  was  good  of  it  was  bet- 
ter than  any  boy's  in  the  form. 
The  same  odd  fa'.e  frequently  at- 
tended the  course  of  his  later  con- 
duct in  life;  for  the  indiscretion, 
or  at  least  unskilful  openness  with 
which  he  always  acted,  drew  more 
ill-will  towards  him  than  men  of 
worse  morals  and  more  wit  might 
have  met  with  ;  whilst  his  igno- 
rance and  want  of  jealousy  of  man- 
kind was  so  strong,  that  it  was  with 
reluctance  he  could  be  brought  to 
believe  any  person  he  was  ac- 
quainted with,  capable  of  envy, 
malice,  or  ingratitude.  In  short, 
a  degree  of  vanity,  sufficient  to 
keep  him  ever  in  temper  with  him- 
self; blended  with  such  a  share  of 
humility  as  made  him  sensible  of 
his  own  follies,  ready  to  acknow- 
ledge them,  and  as  ready  to  laugh 
at  them;  a  sprightly  readiness  of 
wit  and  repartee,  which  frequent- 
ly enabled  him  to  keep  the  Laugh 
in  his  favour,  with  a  fund  of  good- 
nature, which  was  not  to  be  rufHed 
when  the  jest  happened  to  run 
against  him;  together  with  a  great 
natural  quickness  of  parts,  and  an 
intimate  acquaintance  with  elegant 
i  4 


120 


C  I  B 

and  polite  life;    seem  to  be  the 
principal  materials  of  which   his 
character  was  composed.  Few  men 
had  more  personal  friends  and  ad- 
mirers, and  few  men,  perhaps,  a 
greater    number    of    undeserved 
enemies.     A  steady  attachment  to 
those  Revolution  principles  which 
he  first  set  out  with  in  life,  though 
not  pursued  by  him  with  virulence 
or  offence  to  any  one,  created  a 
party  against   him,  which  almost 
constantly  prevented  his  receiving 
those   advantages   from  his  writ- 
ings, or  that  applause  for  his  act- 
ing, which    both   justly  merited. 
Yet,  that  the  malevolence  of  his 
opponents  had  very  little  effect  on 
his  spleen,    is  apparent   through 
the  whole  course  of  his  disputes 
with  Mr.  Pope  ;   who,  though  a 
much  superior  writer  with  respect 
to  sublimity  and  correctness,  yet 
stood  very  little  chance  when  ob- 
liged to  encounter  with  the  keen- 
ness of  his  raillery,  and  the  easy 
unaffected  nonchalance  of  his  hu- 
mour.   In  a  word,  he  seemed  most 
truly  of  Sir  Harry  Wildair's  tem- 
per, whose  spleen   nothing  could 
move  but  impossibilities.    Xor  did 
it  seem  within  the  power  of  even 
age  and  infirmity  to  get  the  bet- 
ter of  this  self-created  happiness 
in  his  disposition  ;   for  even  in  the 
very  latter  years  of  his  life,   when 
amidst  a  circle  of   persons,    not 
one  of  whom  perhaps  had  attain- 
ed to  the  third  part  of  his  age,  yet 
has  Mr.  Cibber  by  his  easy  good- 
humour,  liveliness  of  conversation, 
and  a  peculiar  happiness  he  had  in 
telling  a    story,   been   apparently 
the  very  life  of  the  company,  and, 
but  for   the  too  evident  marks  of 
the  hand  of  time  on  his  features, 
might   have    been    imagined   the 
youngest  man  in  it.     Add  to  this, 
that,  besides  these  superficial  agre- 
mens,  he  was  po»ses»ed  of  great 


C  I  B 

humanity,  benevolence,  and  uni- 
versal philanthropy  ;  and,  by  con- 
tinued actions  of  charity,  compas- 
sion, and  beneficenro,  over  bore 
the  strongest  testimonial  to  his 
being  master  of  that  brightest  of 
all  sublunary  gems,  a  truly  good 
heart. 

As  an  actor,  nothing  can  surely 
be  a  stronger  proof  of  his  merit 
than  the  eminence  to  which  he 
attained  in  that  profession,  in 
opposition  to  all  the  disadvantages 
which,  by  his  own  account,  we 
find  he  had  to  struggle  with.  For, 
exclusive  of  the  pains  taken  by 
many  of  his  contemporaries  to  keep 
him  below  the  notice  of  the  pub- 
lic, Nature  seemed  herself  to  op- 
pose his  advancement. 

His  person,  at  first,  though  not 
ill-made,  was,  he  tells  us,  meagre 
and  uninformed  (but  this  defect 
was  probably  soon  amended,  as  he 
latterly  had  a  figure  of  sufficient 
fulness  and  weight  for  any  part)  ; 
his  complexion  was  pale  and  dis- 
mal, and  his  voice  weak,  thin,  and 
inclining  to  the  treble.  His  great- 
est advantages  seem  to  have  been 
those  of  a  very  accurate  ear,  and  a 
critical  judgment  of  nature.  His 
chief  excellency  lay  in  the  walk 
of  fops  and  feeble  old  men  in  co- 
medy, in  the  former  of  which  he 
does  not  appear  ever  to  have  been 
excelled  in  any  period  before  him, 
or  nearly  equalled  in  any  since, 
Yet  it  is  apparent,  that  he  fre- 
quently acted  parts  of  consequence 
in  tragedy,  and  those  too,  if  not 
with  the  admiration,  yet  with  the 
patient  sufferance  of  the  audience; 
and  the  rank  of  estimation  he  stood 
in,  with  respect  to  the  public,  in 
the  opposed  lights  of  a  tragedian 
and  a  comic  performer,  cannot  be 
better  described  than  in  his  own 
words  :  "  I  was  vain  enough  to 
"  think,"  says  he,  "  that  I  had 


121 


C  I  B 
**  more  ways  than  one  to  come  at 
**  applause,  and  that,  in  the  va- 
"  riety  ot"  characters  I  acted,  the 
"  chances  to  win  it  were  the 
ft  strongest  on  my  side.  That,  if 
"  the  multitude  were  not  in  a  roar 
"  to  see  me  in  Cardinal  Wolsey,  I 
"  could  be  sure  of  them  in  Alder- 
"  man  Fondlewife.  If  they  hated 
**  me  in  Iago,  in  Sir  Fopling  they 
"  took  me  for  a  fine  gentleman. 
*•  If  they  were  silent  at  Syphax, 
**  no  Italian  eunuch  was  more  ap- 
"  plauded  than  I  when  I  sung- in  Sir 
"  Courtly.  If  the  rriorals  of  iEsop 
"  were  too  grave  for  them,  Justice 
"  Shallow  was  as  simple  and  as 
"  merry  an  old  rake  as  the  wisest 
'*  of  our  young  ones  could  wish 
"  me.  And  though  the  terror  and 
"  detestation  raised  by  King  Ri- 
et  chard  might  be  too  severe  a  de- 
"  light  for  them,  yet  the  more 
"  gentle  and  modern  vanities  of  a 
"  Poet  Bayes,  or  the  well-bred 
"  vices  of  a  Lord  Foppington, 
'*  were  not  at  all  more  than  their 
"  merry  hearts,  or  nicer  morals, 
"  could  bear." 

Though,  in  this  account,  Mr. 
Cibber  has  spoken  with  great  mo- 
deration of  himself,  yet  it  is  appa- 
rent that  he  must  have  had  great 
merit  in  tragedy  as  well  as  come- 
dy, since  the  impression  he  made 
on  the  audience  was  nearly  the 
same  in  both  ;  for  as  it  is  well 
known  that  his  excellence  in  re- 
presenting the  fops  induced  many 
to  imagine  him  as  great  a  coxcomjs> 
in  real  life  as  he  appeared  to  be  on 
the  stage;  so,  he  informs  us,  that 
from  the  delight  he  seemed  to  take 
in  performing  the  villainous  cha- 
racters in  tragedy,  half  his  audi- 
tors were  persuaded  that  a  great 
share  of  the  wickedness  of  them 
must  have  been  in  his  own  nature. 
But  this  he  confesses  that  he  look- 
ed on  in  the  very  light  we  view  it 


C  I  B 

in,  in  this  place,  rather  as  a  prai«« 
than  a  censure  of  his  performance, 
since  aversion  in  that  case  is  no- 
thing more  than  an  hatred  incurred 
for  being  like  the  thing  one  ought 
to  be  like. 

The  third  and  last  view,  in 
which  we  are  to  consider  him,  is 
that  of  a  writer.  In  this  character 
he  was  at  times  very  severely  han- 
dled by  some  of  his  contemporary 
critics ;  but  by  none  with  more 
harshness  than  Mr.  Pope.  Party 
zeal,  however,  seems  to  have  had 
a  large  share  in  exciting  the  oppo- 
sition against  him,  as  it  is  ap- 
parent, that,  when  uninfluenced 
by  prejudice,  the  audience  has, 
through  a  course  of  more  than  a 
century,  received  great  pleasure 
from  several  of  his  plays,  which 
have  constantly  formed  part  of  the 
entertainment  of  every  season,  and 
some  of  them  repeatedly  performed 
with  that  approbation  which  they 
undoubtedly  merit.  The  most  im- 
portant charge  against  him  seems 
to  have  been,  that  his  plots  were 
not  always  his  own ;  which  re- 
flection would  have  been  just,  had 
he  produced  no  plays  but  such  as 
he  had  altered  from  other  authors; 
but  in  his  first  letter  to  Mr.  Pope 
he  assures  us,  and  with  great 
truth,  that  his  Fool  in  Fashion  and 
Cartkss  Husband,  in  particular, 
were  as  much  (if  not  so  valuable) 
originals  as  any  thing  his  anta- 
gonist had  ever  written.  And  in 
excuse  for  those  which  he  did  only 
alter,  or  indeed  compile  from 
others,  it  is  evident  that  they  were 
for  the  most  part  composed  by  col- 
lecting what  little  was  good  in 
perhaps  several  pieces  which  had 
had  no  success,  and  were  laid  aside 
as  theatrical  lumber.  On  this  ac- 
count he  was  frequently  treated  as 
a  plagiary ;  yet  it  is  certain,  that 
many   of  those  plays  which  had 


r  !3 


C  I  B 

been  dead  to  the  stage  nut  of  all 
memory,  have,  by  his  assisting 
hand,  not  only  been  restored  to 
lite,  but  have  even  continued  ever 
since  in  lull  spirit  and  vigour.  On 
this  account  surely  the  public  and 
the  original  authors  are  greatly  in- 
debted to  him  ;  that  sentiment  of 
the  poet  being  certainly  true, 

Chi  trat  ruom  del  scpolcro,  (J  in   vita  h 
serba.  Pltrarch. 

Nor  have  other  writers  been  so 
violently  attacked  for  the  same 
fault.  Mr.  Dryden  thought  it  no 
diminution  of  his  fame  to  take  the 
same  liberty  with  The  Tempest  and 
the  Troilus  and  Cressida  of  Shak- 
speare.  Nor  do  these  altered  plays, 
as  Mr.  Cibber  justly  pleads,  take 
from  the  merit  of  those  more  suc- 
cessful pieces  which  were  entirely 
his  own.  A  tailor  that  can  make 
a  new  coat  well,  is  not  surely  the 
worse  workman  because  he  can 
mend  an  old  one;  a  cobler  may  be 
allowed  to  be  useful,  though  no 
one  will  contend  for  his  being  fa- 
mous ;  not"  is  any  man  blameable 
for  doing  a  little  good,  though  he 
cannot  do  so  much  as  another. 
Besides,  Mr.  Cibber  candidly  de- 
clares, that  whenever  he  took  upon 
him  to  make  some  dormant  play 
of  an  old  author  tit  for  the  stage, 
it  was  honestly  not  to  be  idle  that 
set  him  to  work,  as  a  good  house- 
m  ife  will  mend  old  linen  when  she 
has  not  better  employment ;  but 
that,  when  he  was  more  warmly 
engaged  by  a  subject  entirely  new, 
he  only  thought  it  a  good  subject, 
when  it  seemed  worthy  of  an  abler 
pen  than  his  own,  and  might  prove 
as  useful  to  the  hearer  as  profit- 
able to  himself.  And,  indeed,  this 
essential  piece  of  merit  must  be 
granted  to  his  own  original  plays, 
viz.  that  they  always  tend  to  the 
improvement  of  the  mind  as  well  as 


G  I  B 

the  entertainment  of  the  eye  ;  and 
that  vice  and  folly,  however  pleas- 
ingly habited,  are  constantly  lash- 
ed, ridiculed,  or  reclaimed  in  Them, 
and  virtue  as  constantly  rewarded. 
There  is  an  argument,  indeed, 
which  might  be  pleaded  in  favour 
of  this  author,  were  his  plays  pos- 
sessed of  a  much  smaller  share  of 
merit  than  is  to  be  found  in  them  ; 
which  is,  that  he  wrote,  at  least  in 
the  early  part  of  his  life,  through 
necessity,  for  the  support  of  his 
increasing  family  ;  his  precarious 
income  as  an  actor  being  then  too 
scanty  to  supply  it  with  even  the 
necessaries  of  life  :  and  with  great 
pleasantry  he  acquaints  us,  that 
his  muse  and  his  spouse  were 
equally  prolific;  that  the  one  was 
seldom  mother  of  a  child,  but  in 
the  same  year  the  other  made  him 
the  father  of  a  play ;  and  that  they 
had  had  a  dozen  of  each  sort  be- 
tween them,  of  both  which  kinds 
some  died  in  their  infancy,  and 
near  an  equal  number  of  each 
were  alive  when  he  quitted  the 
theatre.  No  wonder  then,  when 
the  Muse  is  only  called  upon  by 
family  duty,  that  she  should  not  al- 
ways rejoice  in  the  fruit  of  her  la- 
bour. This  excuse,  we  say,  might 
be  pleaded  in  Mr.  Cibber's  favour: 
but  we  must  confess  ourselves  of 
the  opinion,  that  there  is  no  occa- 
sion for  the  plea  j  and  that  his 
plays  have  merit  enough  to  speak 
in  their  own  cause,  without  the 
necessity  of  begging  indulgence. 
His  plots,  whether  original  or 
borrowed,  are  lively  and  full  of 
business  ;  yet  not  contused  in  the 
action,  nor  bungled  in  the  cata- 
strophe. His  characters  are  well 
drawn,  and  his  dialogue  easy,  gen- 
teel, and  natural.  And  if  he  has 
not  the  intrinsic  wit  of  a  Con- 
greve  or  a  Vanbrugh,  yet  there 
is  a  luxuriance   of  fancy  in  his 


123 


C  I  3 
thoughts,  which  gives  an  almost 
equal  pleasure,  and  a  purity  in  his 
sentiments  and  morals,  the  want  of 
v.  hicU,  intheabove-namedauthors, 
has  so  frequently  aud  so  justly  been 
censured.  In  a  word,  we  think  the 
Englisb  stage  as  much  obliged  to 
Mr.  libber,  tor  a  fund  of  rational 
entertainment,  as  to  any  dramatic 
writer  this  nation  has  produced, 
Shakespeare  only  excepted  ;  and 
one.  unanswerable  evidence  has 
been  borne  to  the  satisfaction  the 
public  have  received  from  his 
plays,  and  such  an  one  as  no  au- 
thor besides  himself  can  boast,  viz. 
that  although  the  number  of  his 
dramatic  pieces  is  very  extensive, 
a  considerable  part  are  now,   and 


C  I  B 

14.  MyrtiUo.  Pastoral  Interlude. 
Svo.   1715. 

J  5 .  Hob ;  or,  The  Country  If  ate. 
F.   12mo.    1/15. 

Hi.  Venus  and  Adonis.  Masque. 
Svo.   1/1 6". 

l~.   Nonjuror.    C.  Svo.   1~IS. 

15.  Ximem.     T.  Svo.    1/IU. 
}Q.   Refusal.     C.   Svo.   1721. 

20.  Ccesar  in  Egypt,  Tr.  Svo. 
1725. 

21.  Provok'd  Husband.  Com. 
(Part  by  Sir  John  Vanbrugh.) 
Svo.    1/28. 

22.  Rival  Queans.  Comical 
Tragedy.   Svo.   1729. 

23.  Lore  in  a  Riddle.  Pastoral. 
8vo.    1729.      [Misprinted  171a] 

24.  Damon  and  Philtida.  Ballad 


seem  likely  to  continue,  on  the  list     Op.  Svo.   1729. 
of  acting  and  favourite  plays.  25.   Papal  Tyranny  in  the  Reign 

As  a    writer,   exclusive   of   the     of  King  John.  T.  Svo.  1745. 


stage,  his  two  letters  to  Mr.  Pope, 
and  his  Apology  for  his  own  Life, 
are  too  well  known,  and  too  justly 
admired,  to  leave  its  any  room  to 
expatiate  on  their  worth.  His 
dramatic  pieces  are, 

1.  Love's  Last  Shift.     C.  4to. 
10QG. 

2.  Woman's  IFit.  C.  4to.  1697. 

3.  Xerxes.     T.  4 to.   1699. 

4.  King  Richard  the  Third.     T. 
;:Uered.  4lo.   1700. 

5.  Love  makes  a  Man.    C.  4to. 
1701. 

6.  She  u'oud  and  She  wou'd  not. 
C.  4to.    1703. 

7.  Careless  Husband.     C.    4lo. 
1705. 

8.  Perolla  and  Izadora.     Trag. 
4co.   1700. 

9.  School  Boy.  Com.  4to.  1707. 

10.  Comical   Lovers.     C.    4to. 
[170/.] 

11.  Double  Galhmt.     C.     4to. 
[170/.] 

12.  Lady's  last  Stake.     C.  4to. 
[l/OS.] 


20".  The  Lady's  Lecture.  Theat. 
Dial.  Svo.   174's. 

His  name  is  put  to  an  opera, 
called, 

2/.   Chuck.     1736. 

Daniel  Defoe  ascribes  to  him 
the  anonymous  tragedy,  called, 

2S.  Cinna's  Conspiracy.  4to. 
1713. 

We  have  also  heard  attributed  to 
Clbber, 

29.  The  Temple  of  Ditlness.  C. 
O.  4to.    1745. 

And  Oulton's  List  names  a  piece, 
probably  an  abridgment  of  this 
last,  called, 

30.  Capocldo  and  Dorinna.  M. 
E.  4to.  N.D. 

ClEEER,        SUSAXKA  -  MARIA. 

This  lady,  whose  maiden  name 
was  Arne,  and  whose  merit  as  an 
actress  was  well  known,  and  long 
established,  was  the  daughter  of 
an  eminent  upholsterer  in  Covent 
Garden,  and  sister  to  that  great 
musical  composer  Dr.  Thomas  Au- 
gustine Arne.     Her  first  appear- 


13.  Rival  Fools.  C.  4to.  [1709  ]     ance  on  the  stage  was  as  a  singer  j 


121 


C  I  B 

in  which  light  the  sweetness  of  her 
voice  and  the  strength  or'  her  judg- 
ment rendered  her  very  soon  con- 
spicuous. In  the  year  1736,  how- 
ever, she  made  her  first  attempt  as 
a  speaking  performer,  in  the  cha- 
racter of  Zara,  in  Mr.  Hill's  tra- 
gedy of  that  name,  being  its  first 
representation  at  DruryLane;  in 
which  part  she  gave  both  surprise 
and  delight  to  the  audience,  who 
■were  no  less  charmed  with  the 
beauties  of  her  present  perform- 
ance, than  with  the  prospect  of 
future  entertainment  from  so  va- 
luable an  acquisition  to  the  stage  j 
a  prospect  which  was  ever  after 
perfectly  maintained,  and  a  meri- 
dian lustre  shone  forth  fully  equal 
to  what  was  promised  from  the 
morning  dawn.  And  though  it 
may  not  appear  to  have  any  im- 
mediate relation  with  our  present 
design,  yet  we  cannot,  with  justice 
to  her  merits,  dispense  with  the 
transmitting  down  to  posterity,  by 
this  opportunity,  some  slight  idea 
of  this  capital  ornament  of  our 
stage.  Her  person  was  perfectly 
elegant ;  for  although  she  some- 
what declined  beyond  the  bloom 
of  youth,  and  even  wanted  that 
embonpoint  which  sometimes  is 
assistant  in  concealing  the  impres- 
sion made  by  the  hand  of  time, 
yet  there  was  so  complete  a  sym- 
metry and  proportion  in  the  dif- 
ferent parts  which  constituted  this 
lady's  form,  that  it  was  impossible 
to  view  her  figure  and  not  think 
her  young,  or  look  in  her  face  and 
not  consider  her  handsome.  Her 
voice  was  beyond  conception 
plaintive  and  musical,  yet  far  from 
deficient  in  powers  for  the  expres- 
sion of  resentment  or  disdain  ;  and 
so  much  equal  command  of  fea- 
ture did  she  possess  for  the  repre- 
sentation of  pity  or  rage,  of  com- 
placence or  disdain,  that  it  would 


C  I  B 

be  difficult  to  say  whether  she  af- 
fected the  hearts  of  an  audience 
most,  when  playing  the  gentle,  the 
delicate  Celia,  or  the  haughty,  the 
resenting  Hennione;  in  the  inno- 
cent love-sick  Juliet,  or  in  the 
forsaken,  the  enraged  Alicia.  In  a 
word,  through  every  cast  of  trage- 
dy she  was  admirable  ;  and,  could 
we  forget  the  excellence  of  a  Prit- 
chard,  we  should  be  apt  to  say, 
inimitable.  She  made  some  at- 
tempts in  comedy.  They  were, 
however,  in  no  degree  equal  to  her 
excellence  in  the  opposite  walk ; 
and,  indeed,  after  the  mention  we 
have  just  made  of  another  lady,  it 
will  be  sufficient  to  remind  our 
reader,  that  one  actar  and  one  ac- 
tress, universally  capital,  are  as 
much  as  can  be  expected  to  be 
the  produce  of  a  single  century. 
But  to  drop  this  digression.  Mrs. 
Cibber  was  second  wife  to  Mr. 
Theophilus  Cibber,  of  whose  life 
we  shall  immediately  relate  some 
of  the  circumstances.  They  were 
married  in  April  1734;  and  what 
were  the  consequences  of  their 
union  are  too  well  known  to  ren- 
der our  entering  into  any  particu- 
lars in  relation  to  them  necessary. 
In  the  latter  years  of  Mrs.  Cib- 
ber's  life  she  performed  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre  ;  but  being  subject 
to  a  disorder  which  was  unfortu- 
nately unknown  to  her  physician, 
and  consequent lv  treated  impro- 
perly, she  was  often,  as  Mr.  Da- 
vies  observes,  prevented  from  giv- 
ing the  public  **  that  exquisite 
"  pleasure  which  she  was  sure 
"  to  impart  whenever  she  acted. 
"  Her  health  was  so  precarious, 
"  and  she  was  so  subject  to  fre- 
"  quent  relapses,  that  the  news- 
"  papers  ranked  her  amongst  the 
"  dead  near  three  months  sooner 
"  than  her  decease.  About  a 
"  month  before  her  death,   the 


123 


C  I  B 

"  King  commanded  the  comedy 
"  of  The  Provoked  Wife  j  she  was 
"  then  indisposed,  but  was  sup- 
'*  posed  to  be  recovering  some  de- 
"  gree  of  health  ;  nothing  could 
"  prevent  her  paying  her  duty  to 
**  the  King  and  Queen  by  playing 
"  the  part  of  Lady  Brute,  a  cha- 
"  racter  for  which  she  had  always 
*'  discovered  a  most  remarkable 
"  fondness.  The  acting  this  part, 
"  when  her  health  was  so  infirm, 
;!  some  people  believed  to  be  the 
"  cause  of  her  death  ;  but  the 
"  truth  is,  she  had  been  strongly 
"  pressed  to  bathe  in  sea-water,  to 
"  which  she  had  a  most  fixed 
"  aversion:  however,  she  complied 
'*  with  the  advice  of  a  very  emi- 
"  nent  and  skilful  physician,  and 
"  that  compliance  precipitated  her 
"  death.  Her  indisposition  was 
"  supposed  to  be  a  bilious  colic  ; 
"  but  on  her  body  being  opened, 
"  it  proved  that  her  disorder  arose 
"  from  stomach- worms." 

She  died  the  30th  of  January 
lytiG,  and  was  buried  in  the  cloy- 
sters  of  Westminster  Abbey. 

A  gentleman,  who  was  in  com- 
pany with  Mr.  Garrick  when  the 
news  of  her  death  was  brought, 
heard  him  pronounce  hereulogium 
in  the  following  words :  "  Then 
"  tragedy  expired  with  her ;  and 
"  yet  she  was  the  greatest  female 
"  plague  belonging  to  my  house. 
"  1  could  easily  parry  the  artless 
"  thrusts,  and  despise  the  coarse 
"  language,  of  some  of  my  other 
"  heroines  ;  but  whatever  was 
"  Cibber's  object,  a  new  part  or 
"  a  new  dress,  she  was  always 
"  sure  to  carry  her  point  by  the 
"  acuteness  of  her  invective,  and 
"  the  steadiness  of  her  perse- 
"  verance." 

Mrs.  Cibber  has  a  right  to  a 
place  in  this  work  as  a  dramatic 
writer,  having  brought  a  very  ele- 


C  I  B 

gant  little  piece  on  the  stage,  taken 
from  the  French,  called 

The  Oracle.     Com.  of  one  act. 
Svo.    i;52. 

Cibber,  Theophilus.  This 
gentleman  was  son  of  the  cele- 
brated laureat,  and  husband  to  the 
lady  mentioned  in  the  preceding 
article.  As  if  the  very  beginning 
of  his  life  was  intended  as  a  presage 
of  the  confusion  and  perplexities, 
which  were  to  attend  the  progress 
of  it,  and  of  the  dreadful  catastro- 
phe which  was  to  put  the  closing 
period  to  it,  he  was  born  on  the 
day  of  the  violent  and  destructive 
storm,  26th  of  November  1/03, 
whose  fury  ranged  over  the  great- 
est part  of  Europe,  but  was  parti- 
cularly fatal  to  this  kingdom.  In 
what  degree  of  eldership  he  stood 
among  the  children  of  the  laureat, 
we  know  not ;  but  as  it  is  apparent 
that  Mrs.  Cibber  was  very  prolific, 
and  as  our  hero  did  not  come  into 
the  world  till  ten  years  after  his 
father's  marriage,  it  is  probable  he 
had  many  seniors.  About  the  year 
1716  or  171  7  he  was  sent  to  Win- 
chester school,  where  he  received 
all  the  education  he  had  to  boast 
of,  and  very  soon  after  his  return 
from  thence  (as  he  performed  in 
The  Conscious  Lovers  in  1721) 
came  on  the  stage.  Inclination 
and  genius  probably  induced  him 
to  make  this  profession  his  choice  ; 
and  the  power  his  father  possessed 
as  one  of  the  managers  of  the 
Theatre  Royal,  together  with  the 
estimation  he  stood  in  as  an  actor, 
enabled  this  his  son  to  pursue 
it  with  considerable  advantages, 
which  do  not  always  so  favourably 
attend  the  first  attempts  of  a  young 
performer.  In  this  profession, 
however,  he  quickly  gave  proofs  of 
great  merit,  and  soon  attained  a 
considerable  share  of  the  public  fa- 
vour.    His  manner  of  acting  was 


126 


C  I  0 

in  the  same  walk  of  characters 
which  his  father  hnd  with  so  much 
and  so  just  a  reputation  supported. 

3n  his  .-.tops  he  trod,  and  though 
not  with  equal  excellence,  yet 
with  sufficient  to  set  him  on  a  rank 
with  most  of  the  rising  generation 
cif  performers,  both  as  to  present 
worth,  and  future  prospect  ot  im- 
provement. 

The  same  natural  imperfections, 
which  were  so  long  the  bars  to  his 
father's  theatrical  advancement, 
stood  still  more  strongly  in  his  way. 
His  person  was  far  from  pleasing', 
.the  features  of  his  face  were  rather 
disgusting.  His  voice  had  the  same 
shrill  treble,  but  without  that  mu- 
sical harmony  which  Mr.  Colley 
Cibber  was  master  of.  Yet  still  an 
apparent  good  understanding  and 
quickness  of  parts;  a  perfect  know- 
ledge of  what  he  ought  to  repre- 
sent ;  together  with  a  vivacity  in 
}iis  manner,  and  a  kind  of  effron- 
ttric,  which  was  well  adapted  to 
{he  characters  he  was  to  repre- 
sent >  pretty  amply  counterbalanced 
those  deficiencies.  In  a  word,  his 
first  setting  out  in  life  seemed  to 
promise  the  assurance  of  future 
happiness  to  him,  both  as  to  ease, 
and  even  affluence  of  circum- 
stances, and  with  respect  to  fame 
and  reputation ;  had  not  one  foible 
overclouded  his  brightest  prospects, 
and  at  length  led  him  into  errors, 
the  consequences  of  which  it  was 
almost  impossible  he  should  ever  be 
able  to  retrieve.  This  foible  was 
no  other  than  extravagance  and 
want  of  economy.  A  fondness 
for  indulgences,  which  a  moderate 
income  could  not  afford,  probably 
induced  him  to  submit  to  obliga- 
tions which  it  had  the  appearance 
Of  meanness  to  accept  of  j  the 
consciousness  of  those  obligations, 
and  the  use  he  imagined  they 
wight   be  mr.de  of  against  him, 


C  I  B 
perhaps  might  at  first  prevail  on 
him  to  appear  ignorant  of  what  it 
was  but  too  evident  he  could  not 
avoid  knowing,  and  afterward-; 
urge  him  to  steps,  in  the  pursuance 
of  which,  without  his  by  any  means 
avenging  his  wrongs,  his  lame,  his 
peace  of  mind,  his  credit,  and  even 
his  future  fortunes,  were  all  wreck- 
ed at  once.  The  real  actuating 
principles  of  the  human  heart  it  is 
impossible  to  dive  into,  and  the 
charitably-disposed  mind  will  eve-r 
be  inclinable  to  believe  the  best  ; 
especially  with  regard  to  those  who 
are  no  longer  in  a  condition  to  de- 
fend themselves.  Let  then  his 
ashes  rest  in  peace;  and,  avoiding 
any  minute  investigation  of  those 
circumstances  which  cast  a. lower- 
ing cloud  over  his  character  while 
living,,  proceed  we  to  thoce  few 
particulars  which  immediately 
come  within  our  notice  as  his  his- 
toriographers. 

Mr.  Theophilus  Cibber  seems 
to  have  entered  into  the  matrimo- 
nial state  pretty  early  in  life. 
His  first  wife  was  one  Miss  Jenny 
Johnson,  who  was  a  companion 
and  intimate  of  Miss  Raftor's 
(afterwards  Mrs.  Clive),  and  in 
her  very  earliest  years  had  a  strong 
inclination  for  the  stage.  This 
lady,  according  to  her  husband's 
own  account  other,  seemed  likely 
to  have  made  a  very  conspicuous 
figure  in  the  theatre,  had  not 
death,  in  1/33,  put  a  stop  to  her 
career,  in  the  very  prime  of  lite. 
She  left  behind  her  two  daughters, 
Jane  and  Elizabeth.  The  first- 
mentioned  of  these  ladies  made 
two  or  three  attempts  on  the  stage  j 
but,  though  agreeable  in  her  per- 
son and  elegant  in  her  manner, 
yet,  from  the  want  of  sufficient 
spirit,  and  the  defect  of  but  an 
indifferent  voice,  she  met  with  no 
extraordinary  success. 


127 


C  I  B 

After  the  death  of  Mrs.  Jane 
Gibber,  Mr.  Cibber  paid  his  ad- 
dresses to  Miss  Susanna  Maria 
Arne,  whose  amiable  and  virtuous 
disposition,,  he  himself  informs 
us,  were  the  considerations  that 
induced  him  to  make:her  his  wife. 
She  was  at  that  time  remarkable 
on  the  stage  only  for  her' musical 
qualifications  ;  but  soon  after  their 
marriage  made  her  first  attempt  as 
an  actress,  her  success  in  which  we 
have  taken  notice  of  under  the 
last  article.  Mr.  Cibber's  pecu- 
niary indiscretions,  however,  not 
permitting  him  to' restrain  his  ex- 
penses within  the  limits  of  his  own 
and  bis  wife's  salaries  and  bene- 
fits, though  their  amount  was  very 
considerable,  he  took  a  journey  to 
France  for  some  short  time,  in  the 
year  1/3S;  on  his  return  from 
which  he  appears  first  to  have  taken 
notice  of  too  close  an  intimacy 
between  his  wife  and  a  certain 
young  gentleman. of  fortune,  with 
whom  he  had  united  himself  ap- 
parently by  all  the  closest  ties  of 
friendship.  How  far  he  was  .or 
was  not  guilty  of  the  meanness 
charged  on  him  of  being  accessary 
to  their  correspondence,  is  a  point 
we  shall  not  here  enter  into  the  dis- 
cussion of.  A  suit  was  commenced 
for  criminal  conversation,  he  lay- 
ing his  damages  at  5000/. ;  the  ver- 
dict on  which,  of  only  ten  pounds 
damages,  too  plainly  evinces  the 
.sense  of  the  administrators  of  jus- 
tice in  the  case,  to  need  any  fur- 
ther comment. 

After  this  event,  Mr.  Cibber's 
creditors,  who  were  numerous, 
and  had  perhaps  been  somewhat 
appeased  from  the  prospect  of  the 
pecuniary  advantages  that  might 
accrue  to  their  debtor  in  conse- 
quence of  the  trial,  became  more 
impatient  than  ever  ;  and  not  long 
after,   Mr.  Cibber  'was    arrested 


C  I  B 

for  some  considerable  sums,   anfi 
thrown  into  the  King's  Bench  pri- 
son.    By   the   means  of  benefit- 
plays,  however,  and  other  assist- 
ances,   he   obtained    his    liberty  ; 
but  as   the  affair  relating   to  his 
wife,  who  was  now  become  an 
actress  of  the   first  consequence, 
and  in  the  highest  favour  with  the 
town,  had  greatly  prejudiced  him, 
not    only   in   the   opinion   of  the 
public,  but  even  by  standing  as  a 
bar  to  his  theatrical  engagements  ; 
and,  as  his  natural  passion  for  dis- 
sipation could  not  be  kept  within 
bounds,  these  difficulties  repeated- 
ly occurred  to  him,  and  he  was 
frequently  excluded  entirely  from 
any   theatre,    for  a  whole   season 
together.     In  these  distresses  he 
was  ever  ready  to  head  any  thea- 
trical mutiny  that  might  put  it  in 
his  power  to  form  a  separate  com- 
pany, which  he  more  than  once 
attempted  to  fix  at  the  theatre  in 
the  Haymarkct,  but  in  vain  ;  the 
legislative  power,  urged  to  exer- 
tion  by  the  interests  of  the  esta- 
blished and  patent  theatres,  con- 
stantly putting  a  stop  to  his  pro- 
ceedings after  a  few  nights'   per- 
formance.   In  one  continual  series 
of  distress,  extravagance,  and  per- 
plexity of  this  kind,  did  he  con- 
tinue   till     the    winter   of    J/58, 
when   he  was   engaged    by   Mr. 
Sheridan,  to  go  o:ver  to  Dublin,  to 
assist  him  in  making  a  stand  against 
the  new  theatre,  just  then  opened 
in  opposition    to    him,    in    Crow 
Street.     On    this   expedition   Mr. 
Cibber  embarked  at  Parkgate  (to- 
gether with  Mr.  Maddox,  the  ce- 
lebrated wire-dancer,  who  had  also 
been  engaged  as  au  auxiliary  to 
the  same  theatre),  on   board   the 
Dublin  Trader,  some  time  in  the 
month  of  October ;   but  the  high 
winds,  which  are  frequent  at  that 
time  of  the  year  in  St.  George's 


128 


CIB 

channel,  and  which  are  fatal  to 
many  vessels  in  the  passage  from 
this  kingdom  to  Ireland,  proved 
particularly  so  to  this.  The  vessel 
was  driven  to  the  coast  of  Scot- 
land, where  it  was  cast  away,  every 
soul  in  it  (and  the  passengers  were 
extremely  numerous)  perishing  in 
the  waves,  and  the  ship  itself  so 
entirely  lost,  that  scarcely  any 
vestiges  of  it  remained  to  indicate 
where  it  had  been  wrecked,  ex- 
cepting a  box  containing  books 
and  papers,  which  were  known  to 
be  Mr.  Gibber's,  and  which  were 
cast  up  on  the  western  coast  of 
Scotland.— [So  said  Mr.  Baker ; 
but  this  was  a  mistake;  for  we 
have  since  found,  that  in  this  ship, 
in  which  Theoph .  Cibber,  Maddox, 
and  others  perished,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Jefferson,  Mr.  Arthur  and  family, 
Mrs.  Chambers,  and  some  others 
were  passengers,  and,  by  leaping 
into  a  small  boat,  were  saved.] 

Thus  fell  the  well-known  Mr. 
Theophilus  Cibber,  whose  life  was 
begun,  pursued,  and  ended  in  a 
storm.  Possessed  of  talents  that 
might  have  made  him  happy,  and 
qualities  that  might  have  rendered 
him  beloved,  yet,  through  a  too 
insatiable  thirst  for  pleasure,  and  a 
want  of  consideration  in  the  means 
of  pursuing  it,  his  life  was  one 
scene  of  misery,  and  his  character 
made  the  mark  of  censure  and 
contempt.  Now,  however,  let  his 
virtues,  which  were  not  a  few, 
remain  on  record ;  and,  for  his 
indiscretions, 

Let  them  be  buried   with  him  in  the 

grave, 
But  not  remember'd  in  his  epitaph. 

As  a  writer,  he  has  not  rendered 
himselfvery  conspicuous,  excepting 
in  some  appeals  to  the  public  on 
peculiar  circumstances  of  his  own 
distressed  life.      He  was  indeed 


C  L  A 

concerned  in,  and  has  put  his 
name  to,  An  Account  of  the  Lives 
of  the  Poets  of  Great  Britain  and 
Ireland,  in  five  volumes,  12mo. 
But  in  this  work  his  own  peculiar 
share  was  very  inconsiderable, 
Mr.  Shiels  and  many  other  hands 
having  been  concerned  with  him 
in  it.  In  the  dramatic  way  he 
produced  the  following  pieces : 

1.  Henry  the  Sixth,  from  Shak- 
speare.  Svo.  N.  D.  [1/23.]  2d 
edit.    1724. 

2.  The  Lover.  C.  8vo.  1/30. 

3.  Patie  and  Peggy.  B.O.  Svo, 
1/30. 

4.  The  Harlot's  Progress ;  or, 
The  Ridotto  al  Fresco.  P.  4to. 
1/33. 

5.  Romeo  and  Juliet.  T.  Svo. 
N.  D.  [1748.] 

6.  The  Auction.    F.  8vo.    1757. 
To  him  also  we  find  ascribed, 

7.  Damon  and  Daphne.  Past. 
J 7 '33.   N.  P. 

8.  The  Mock  Officer.  F.  1733. 
N.  P. 

Clancy,  Michael,  M.  D, 
This  gentleman  was  the  son  of 
a  military  man,  of  an  ancient  and 
once  powerful  family  in  the  county 
of  Clare.  He  appears  to  have  been 
born  at  the  latter  end  of  the  seven- 
teenth, or  beginning  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century ;  and,  in  the  eighth 
year  of  his  age  was  settled  at  one 
of  the  best  colleges  in  Paris,  where 
he  continued  until  the  time  that 
the  late  Duke  of  Ormond  fled  from 
England,  and  went  to  St.  Ger- 
mains.  On  that  occasion  he,  with 
two  of  his  companions,  stole  out 
of  the  college  to  see  a  person  who 
had  rendered  himself  so  celebrated 
in  Europe;  which  having  accom- 
plished, he  was,  either  from  fear 
or  shame,  deterred  from  returning 
to  his  preceptor.  He  accordingly 
resolved  to  go  to  his  native  coun- 


129 


C  L  A 

trv,  for  which  purpose  he  took  a 
place  in  the  boat  for  Harfieur,  in 
Normandy;  and  soon  after  ar- 
riving at  Havre  de  Grace  ob- 
tained a  passage  to  Dublin.  Un- 
knowing who  his  relations  were, 
or  at  what  place  they  resided,  but 
remembering  to  have  heard  that 
he  sprung  from  a  family  on  the 
borders  of  the  county  of  Clare,  he 
determined  to  go  into  that  part  of 
the  kingdom.  Accordingly  he  set 
out,  and  made  his  way  through 
Kilkenny,  where  he  met  with  a 
gentleman  who  took  compassion 
on  his  helpless  state,  and,  in  re- 
quital of  some  services  formerly 
done  by  his  father,  supported  him 
and  placed  him  in  a  free- school 
belonging  to  that  town.  Here  he 
continued  three  years,  when  the 
misfortunes  of  his  benefactor  de- 
prived him  of  the  assistance  he  had 
derived  from  that  quarter.  About 
this  time  an  accident  brought  him 
to  the  knowledge  of  his  relations, 
by  whom  he  was  sent  to  Trinity 
College,  Dublin,  and  became  a 
pupil  of  Dr.  James  King. 

He  remained  at  the  university 
near  four  years ;  at  the  end  of 
which  time,  finding  no  prospect  of 
advancement,  and  being  -young 
and  sanguine,  he  determined  to 
leave  Ireland  once  more  for  France. 
He  accordingly  went  a  passenger 
on  board  a  ship-bound  for  Rochelle, 
and  set  sail  on  the  25th  of  July 
1/24.  In  three  days  time  the 
vessel  gained  sight  of  LTsle  Dieu, 
on  the  coast  of  Britany ;  but  on 
the  fourth  a  storm  arose,  which 
drove  it  to  the  coast  of  Spain, 
where  it  was  stranded  on  the  shore, 
at  about  a  mde's  distance  from  the 
town  of  St.  Sebasti.m,  in  Biscay. 
From  this  place  he  obtained  a  pas- 
sage to  Rochelle,  and  from  thence 
to  Bourdeaux,  where  he  proposed 
to  study  physic.     He  afterwards 

VOL.   I. 


CLE 

obtained  the  degree  of  doctor,  at 
Rheims.  At  what  time  he  re- 
turned to  Ireland  is  unknown,  but 
he  was  there  in  1/37,  when  he 
was  deprived  of  his  sight  by  an 
accidental  cold  This  rendering 
him  incapable  of  his  profession,  he 
amused  himself  with  writing  his 
comedy  called  The  She  per,  which 
was  acted  five  times  in  Smock 
Alley,  and  obtained  him  the  no- 
tice of  Dean  Swift. 

From  this  period,  his  life  seems 
to  have  been  passed  with  all  the 
inconveniences  that  result  from 
confined  circumstances,  and  an 
inability  to  procure  the  means  of 
subsistence  by  a  profession.  He, 
however,  obtained,  from  the  late 
King,  a  pension  of  forty  pounds  a 
year  during  his  life  j  and,  in  the 
year  1740),  procured  a  sum  of 
money  by  performing  the  part  of 
Tiresias  the  blind  prophet,  in  CEdi- 
pus,  for  his  own  benefit,  at  Drury 
Lane.  He  afterwards  was  settled 
at  Kilkenny,  at  the  Latin  school 
there.  He  is  the  author  of  a  Latin 
poem,  called  Tempi  urn  Veneris ; 
sive,  Amoruw  Rliapsodice ;  and  of 
three  dramatic  pieces,  whose  titles 
are, 

1.  Tamar,  Prince  of  Nulla.  T. 
about  IJ3().    N.  P. 

2.  Herman,  Prince  of  Chorcccu 
T.    8vo.   1746. 

3.  The  Sharper.  C.   8vo.    1/50. 
Clarke,  George  Somers.  B.D. 

Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Oxford. 
This  name  is  prefixed  to 

QLdipus  King  of  Thebes.  T.  8vo. 
1790. 

Clarke,  Stephen  ;  a  coal- 
merchant,  we  believe,  and  author 
of, 

1.  The  Poison  Tree.  Dr.  8vo. 
I8O9. 

2.  The  Torrid  Zone.  Dr.  8vo. 
I8O9. 

Cleland,  John.    This  gentle- 

K 


130 


C  L  I 

son    of 


man  was  a   son   ot  the  Colonel 
Cleland,  who  was  so  close  an  in- 
timate with,  and  so  zealous  an  ad- 
vocate for,  Mr.  Pope.   In  the  early 
part  of  his  life  this  his  son  was  in 
the  service  of  the  East  India  Com- 
pany 3  and,  about  the  year  1/3(3, 
was  at  their  settlement  at  Bombay. 
He   quitted    this    situation    rather 
precipitately,  and  spent  some  years 
in  different  parts  of  Europe.     He 
seems  to  have  imbibed  no  small 
share  of  the  vices  of  the  East,  if 
we  may  form  a  judgment  of  him 
from     his     novel,    entitled,     The 
Memoirs  of  a  Woman  of  Pleasure, 
a  book  of  the  most  pernicious  ten- 
dency,   and    justly    censured   by 
every  one  who  has  the  least  regard 
to  virtue  or  decency.    His  Memoirs 
of  a  Coxcomb  have  also  much  li- 
centiousness, but  at  the  same  time 
great  merit.     In  the  dramatic  way 
he  published   three  pieces,  none 
of  which  have  made  an  appearance 
or.  the  stage,  viz. 

1.  Titus    Vespasian.     T.    Svo. 
1755. 

2.  The  Ladies"  Subscription.  Dr. 
Performance.  Svo.   1755. 

3.  Tomlo-Chiqui.  Dram.  Ent. 
in  three  acts.  8vo    1/5S. 

He  died  Jan.  23,  ]  789,  aged  82. 

Clerke,  William.  Of  this 
•vuthor  no  particulars  are  known  ; 
except  that  he  wrote,  and  acted, 
with  about  twenty  other  gentle- 
men of  quality,  at  Edinburgh,  at 
Christmas  1062-3,  one  piece, 
entitled 

Marciano ;  or,  The  Discovery. 
T.  C.  4to.  1'. 

Clive,  Catharine,  This 
lady,  whose  name  as  a  dramatic 
writer  we  are  obliged  to  mention 
here,  is  however  much  better 
known  for  her  unequalled  merit 
as  a  comedian;  in  which  light, 
while  any   theatrical   records  are 


C  L  I 

be  held  in  the  highest  estimation. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Wil- 
liam Raftor,  a  gentleman  who  was 
a  native  of  the  city  of  Kilkenny  in 
Ireland,  and  bred  to  the  law  ;   but 
being  strongly  attached  to  the  in- 
terests of   the   unfortunate  King 
James  II.  when  that  monarch  was 
in  Ireland,  he  entered  into  his  ser- 
vice;  on  which  account  a  consi- 
derable paternal  estate  in  the  coun- 
ty of  Kilkenny,  which  he  would 
otherwise  have  inherited,  became 
forfeit  to  the  crown.     After  the 
decisive  battle  of  the  Boyne,  how- 
ever, he  still  followed  his  master's 
fortunes;  and  through  that  interest 
and    his    own    merit,    obtained    a 
captain's  commission  in  the  service 
of  Louis  XIV.     But  afterward-, 
procuring  a  pardon  from  the  Eng- 
lish court,  he  came  to  this  metropo- 
lis, where  he  married  the  daughter 
of  an  eminent   citizen,   on    Fish 
Street  Hill;  by  whom  he  had  se- 
veral children,    and,   among  the 
rest,   the  subject  of  our  present 
memoir. 

Miss  Raftor  was  born  in  1/11, 
and  showed  a  very  early  inclina- 
tion and  genius  for  the  stage.  Her 
natural  turn  of  humour,  and  her 
pleasing  manner  of  singing  songs 
of  spirit,  induced  some  friends  to 
recommend  her  to  Mr.  Colley  Cio- 
ber,  then  one  of  the  managers  cf 
Drury  Lane  Theatre,  who  imme- 
diately engaged  her  at  a  small  sa- 
lary. Her  first  appearance  was  in 
boy's  clothes,  in  the  character  of  a 
page,  in  the  tragedy  of  Mithri- 
dates,  King  of  Pojitns,  in  which  she 
was  introduced  only  to  sing  a  song. 
Yet  even  in  this  she  met  with  great 
applause.  This  was  in  1728,  at 
which  time  she  was  but  seventeen 
years  of  age ;  and  in  the  very  same 
season  we  find  that  the  audience 
paid  so  great  attention  to  her  merit 


remaining,  her  memory  must  ever    in  the  part  of  Phillida,  in  Cibber's 


131 


C  L  I 

Love  in  a  Riddle,  which  party  pre- 
judice had  determined  to  condemn, 
right  or  wrong,  on  account  of  the- 
author,  as   to  sutler  their  riotous 
clamours  to  subside  whenever  she 
was  on  the  stage ;  a  compliment 
which    they    even   denied    to  the 
blood  royal  itself,  on  the  ensuing 
night.    In  1/31,  however,  she  had 
an  opportunity  afforded  her,  which 
she  did  not  permit  to  pass  unem- 
ployed, of  breaking  forth  on  the 
public   in    a   full    blaze  of  comic 
brightness.     This  was  in  the  part 
of  Nell,  in  The  Devil  to  Pay  ;   or, 
The  Wives  Metamorphosed;  a  bal- 
lad farce,  written  by   Coffey,  in 
which  she  threw  out  a  full  exer- 
tion of  those  comic  powers,  from 
which    every   frequenter   of    the 
theatre  afterwards   received  such 
infinite    delight.      Her   merit    in 
this  character  occasioned  her  salary 
to  be  doubled,  and  not  only  esta- 
blished her  own  reputation  with 
the  audience,  but  fixed  the  piece 
itself  on  the  constant  list  of  acting 
farces;  an  honour  which  perhaps 
it  would   never   have  arrived   at, 
had   she   not  been  in   it.     In  the 
year  1/32,  she  wras  married  to  G. 
Clive,  Esq.    brother  of  the   late 
Mr.  Baron  Clive.     They  did  not, 
however,  cohabit  long  together; 
yet,  notwithstanding  the  tempta- 
tions to  which  a  theatre  is  some- 
times apt  to  expose  young  persons 
of  the  female  sex,  and   the    too 
great  readiness   of  the  public  to 
give  way  to  unkind  suppositions 
in  regard  to  them,  calumny  itself 
has  never  seemed  to  aim  the  slight- 
est arrow  at  her  fame. 

To  expatiate  on  her  merit  as  an 
actress  would  far  exceed  our  li- 
mits, and  be  wholly  unnecessary. 
After  continuing  the  delight  of  the 
town  more  than  forty  years,  she 
Withdrew  from  the  public  service 
April  24,   1769,  at  a  time  when 


COB 

her  abilities  for  the  stage  were 
11  n impaired.  Her  neighbour.  Mr. 
Walpole,  wrote  an  epilogue,  which 
she  spoke  on  her  last  appearance. 
She  i\  tired  to  Strawberry  Hill, 
near  Twickenham  ;  where  she 
continued  to  enjoy  health,  ease, 
good  humour,  and  independence, 
till  her  death  ;  which  happened 
on  the  6th  of  December  1785. 

As  an  author,  we  presume,  she 
never  aimed  at  immortality;  yet 
she,  at  different  eneiits  of  her 
own,  introduced  five  several  petite 
pieces  on  the  stage,  neither  of 
which  was  totally  devoid  of  merit. 
Their  titles  are  as  follow  : 

1.  The  Rehearsal;  or,  Bays  in 
Petticoats.     C.   8vo.   1/53. 

2.  Every  Woman  in  her  Hu- 
mour.    1760.     N.  P. 

3.  Sketch,  of  a  Fine  Lady's  Re- 
turn from  a  Rout.    17O3.  N    P. 

4.  The  Faithful  Irishwoman.  F„ 
17G5    N  P. 

5.  Island  of  Slaves.  1 761.  N.P. 
Only  the  first  of  these,  however, 
has  yet  appeared  in  print;  and  as 
to  the  last,  it  is  no  more  than  an 
almost  literal  translation  of  Ma- 
rivaux's  fs/edes  Esclavrs,  executed, 
as  she  herself  confesses,  by  a  gen- 
tleman at  her  request. 

Cobb,  James.  This  respectable 
dramatist  was  born  in  1750,  and, 
in  177 1 »  elected  into  the  Secre- 
tary's Office,  in  the  East  India 
House;  in  winch  he  has  continued 
ever  since,  and  now  holds  the 
high  situation  of  Assistant  Secre- 
tary to  that  Hon.  Company.  Dec. 
2S,  1SOO,  Mr.  Cobb  married  a 
Miss  Stanfell,  of  Fratton,  in 
Hampshire ;  and  his  friends  re- 
cognise in  hirr  the  man  of  wit 
and  the  gentleman,  distinguished 
by  3  liberal  mind  and  open  heart, 
A  variety  of  performances,  on  de- 
sultory sub  ects,  chiefly  satirical 
and  exhibited  in  periodical  publi- 

R  2 


132 


COB 
cations,  early  marked  bis  talents, 
and  introduced  him  to  the  ac- 
quaintance and  esteem  of  many 
literary  characters.  In  the  dra- 
matic way,  his  first  effort  was  an 
occasional  prologue,  spoken  by 
Miss  Pope,  for  her  benefit,  at  the 
Theatre  Royal, Drury  Lane,  17/3, 
and  sent  anonymously  to  her : 
when  this  prologue  was  submitted, 
among  many  others,  to  Mr.  Gar- 
rick,  it  received  his  entire  appro- 
bation ;  and  so  highly  did  he  think 
of  it,  that  he  suggested  some  slight 
alterations,  which  were  adopted 
by  the  author.  Of  the  pieces  more 
immediately  dramatic,  produced  by 
Mr.  Cobb,  the  following  is,  we 
believe,  an  accurate  list  : 

1.  The  Contract}  or,  The  Fe- 
male Captain.     F.     1/79-     N.  P. 

2.  Wedding  Night.  M.  F.  1/80. 
N.P. 

3.  Who  'd  have  thought  It?  F. 
1781.     N.P. 

4.  Kensington  Gardens.  Interl. 
1/81.      N.  P. 

5.  The  Humourist.  F.  1785. 
N.P. 

0.  Hurhj  Burly.  Pant,  (assisted 
by  T.  King).     17&5.     N.  P. 

7-  Strangers  at  Home.  C.  O. 
8vo.  1/Sti. 

H.  English  Readings.   C.  P.  Svo. 

1787- 

9.  Tlte   First    Floor.     F.     Svo. 

1797. 

10.  Love  in.  the  East.  C.  O. 
8vo.  17bb 

11.  Doctor  and  apothecary.  F, 
8vo.  1788. 

12.  Haunted  Tower.  CO.  1789. 

13.  Poor  Old  urvTij  !  Prelude. 
1791.     N.P. 

}  4  Siege  of  Belgrade.  C.  O. 
[Songs  only.]     8vo.  1/91. 

15.  The  Al 'serine  Slavts.  Mus. 
Ent.     1792.    ,N.  P. 

16.  Pirates.  C,  O.  [Songs  only.] 
Svo.  1792. 


COD 

17.  The  Cherokee.  CO.  170-1. 
N.  P. 

IS.  Shepherdess  of  Cheapside. 
M.  F.    [Songsonly.]  8vo.  1796. 

19.  Raman  Droog.  CO.  Svo. 
1S00. 

20.  Paul  and  Virginia.  M.  D. 
1800*     N.  P. 

21.  Algonah.  CO.   1802.  N.P. 

22.  A  Elouse  to  be  Sold.  Mus. 
Piece.      Svo.  1S02. 

23.  The  Wife  of  Two  Huslamls. 
M.  D.     Svo.  1803. 

24.  Sudden  Arrivals.  C  1S0Q. 
N.  P. 

Cockburn,  Catherine.  See 
Trotter. 

Cookings,  George,  had  in 
early  life  a  small  place  under  Go- 
vernment, at  Boston,  in  America. 
In  the  latter  part  of  his  life  he 
was  in  England ;  and,  on  the  re- 
signation of  Mr.  Shipley,  obtained 
the  place  of  register  of  the  Society 
of  Arts,  Manufactures,  and  Com- 
merce, in  the  Adelphi,  which  he 
held  for  thirty  years,  and  died  the 
6th  of  February  1S02.  He  was 
author  of  a  poem  entitled  The  Ame- 
rican War  ;  and  at  one  time  read 
Milton,  &c.  by  way  of  a  lecture, 
to  his  friends.  Beside  the  above- 
mentioned  poem,  he  wrote  several 
ether  wretched  performances;  and, 
among  the  rest,  one  play  called 

The  Conquest  of  Canada ;  or, 
The  Sitge  of  Quebec.  An  Flistorical 
Tragedy.     Svo.  1/66. 

CoDRINGTON,    ROBERT,    A.M. 

This  writer  was  descended  from 
an  ancient  and  estimable  family  in 
Gloucestershire,  in  which  county 
he  was  born  in  the  year  idol,  and 
at  seventeen  years  of  age,  viz.  on 
July  29,  1619,  he  was  elected 
demy  of  Magdalen  College,  Ox- 
ford ;  being  then  of  some  months 
standing  in  that  house.  Here  he 
took  the  degrees  in  arts,  that  of 
master  being  completed  in  lG'iti, 


133 


COF 

He  afterwards  went  abroad  on  his 
travels;  on  his  return  from  which, 
being  possessed  of  an  independent 
fortune,  he  lived  for  several  years 
in  Norfolk,  and  there  remained. 
At  length,  however,  he  went  to 
London,  where  he  settled  for  the 
re-t  of  his  life  ;  which  was  put  a 
period  to,  in  the  general  great  ca- 
lamity of  the  plague  in  that  city, 
in  1005.  He  was  a  rank  parlia- 
mentarian, as  appears  in  the  life 
of  the  Earl  of  Essex  which  he  has 
written.  He  was  a  voluminous 
writer,  but  seems  principally  to 
have  employed  himself  in  compile- 
nient  and  translation  ;  among  the 
latter  of  which  he  has  left  a  trans- 
lation of  one  Latin  play,  written 
by  G.  Ruggle,  of  Clare  Hall, 
Cambridge,  entitled 

Ignoramus.     C.    4to.  1662. 

Coffey,  Charles.  This  au- 
thor was  a  native  of  Ireland.  He 
had  no  very  great  share  of  original 
genius;  his  turn  was  humour;  and, 
having  met  with  some  success  in 
altering  and  patching  up  an  old 
farce  of  Jevon's,  called  The  Dec:! 
of  a  Wife,  he  pursued  the  same  kind 
of  plan  with  some  other  dramatic 
pieces,  but  with  little  success, 
most  of  them  having  been  very 
justly  condemned.  The  number 
and  names  of  them  may,  however, 
be  seen  in  the  following  list : 

1 .  Southwark  Fair ;  or,  The 
Sheep-shearing.     O.     8vo.  1/2C). 

2.  The  Beggar's  Wedding.  B.  O. 
8vo.  1729. 

3.  Phoebe  1  or,  The  Beggar.  O. 
Svo.  1720. 

4.  The  Female  Parson  ;  or,  The 
Beau  in  the  Suds.    O.    Svo.  1730. 

5.  The  Devil  to  pay;  or,  The 
Wives  Metamorphosed.  O.  8vo. 
1731. 

6.  A  m/e  and  no  Wife.  F. 
8vo.  1732, 


C  O  K 

7.  The  Boarding- School',  or,  The 
Sham  Captain.     O.      8vp.  !/.>.;. 

8.  The  Merry  Culler ;  or,  The 
Second  Part  of  The  Devil  to  pay. 
F.  O.     Svo.  173.3. 

(J.  The  Levi!  upon  Urn  Sticks  ; 
or,  The  Country  Beau.  B.  F.  8vo. 
1745. 

Mr.  CofFey  was  in  his  person 
considerably  deformed  ;  yet  no 
man  was  more  ready  to  admit  of, 
and  even  join  in,  any  raillery  on 
himself:  one  remarkable  instance 
of  which  was,  his  performing  the 
character  of /Esop  for  his  own  be- 
nefit in  Dublin.  He  died  on  the 
13th  of  May  1745,  and  was  bu- 
ried in  the  parish  of  St.  Clement 
Danes. 

Cokaix,  Sin  Aston.  This 
gentleman  lived  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  I.  He  was  son  to  Thomas 
Cokain.Esq.and  was  born,  accord- 
ing to  his  own  account  (Poems, \o\.\. 
p.  184,  edit.  1G09),  at  Elvaston, 
in  Derbyshire;  it  is  certain,  how- 
ever, that  the  register  of  his  bap- 
tism is  dated  Dec.  20,  16OS,  at 
Ashbourne,  in  the  Peak  of  Derby- 
shire, where  his  father  (who  was 
then  only  twenty  years  of  age) 
had  a  fine  seat,  and  where  some 
of  his  predecessors  had  resided 
ever  since  the  reign  of  Edward  I. 
His  family  has  been  said  to  have 
been  still  more  ancient,  tracing 
back  their  origin  as  far  as  William 
the  Conqueror,  to  whom  they 
were  allied;  but  this  was  a  fabu- 
lous tale  of  Sir  Aston's  own  ma- 
nufacture. Our  author  had  a  libe- 
ral education,  having  been  sent  to 
both  the  universities  of  Oxford  and 
Cambridge,  at  the  latter  of  which 
he  was  a  fellow-commoner  of  Tri- 
nity College.  From  the  univer- 
sities he  for  a  time  was  entered  iu 
the  inns  of  court,  where  he  ^eems 
to  have   continued  more   for   fa- 


13-1 

C  O  K  COL 

shion's  sake  than  from  any  other  time  ;  the  lordship  of  Ashbourne 

motive.     In    1632  he  set  out  on  being  sold  to  Sir  William  Boothby, 

a  tour  of  Europe,    and    travelled  Baronet  ;  and  that  of  Pooley  above 

through  France,  Italy,  Germany,  mentioned,   which   had   belonged 

&c.     Hoe,  however,    there    ap-  to   the  family  ever  since  Richard 

pears  an  essential  difference  in  the  II. 's  time,  he  parted  with  to  one 

biographi  rs  of  his  life;  Cibber,  in  Humphrey   Jennings,    Esq.   with 

hisLives  of  the  Poets,  vol,  ii.  p.'2l6,  the  reservation  of  an  annuity  for 


po  itivelj  declaring,  that  he  went 
abroad  with  Sir  Kenelm  Digby, 
and  was  absent  for  the  space  of 
twelve  years;  and  Langbaine  and 
all  the  other  writers  making  him 
complete  his  tour  in  as  many 
months.  Besides  which,  Coxcter, 
in  his  MS.  notes,  has  bestowed  on 
him  as  a  travelling  tutor  one  Dr. 
Robert  Creiehtdn.  The  latter  ac- 
count, however,  appears  most  pro- 
bable. During  the  civil  wars  he 
suffered  greatly  for  his  religion, 
which  was  that  of  the  church  of 
Rome,  and  for  his  attachment  to 
the  King's  cause,  under  whom  he 
claimed  the  title  of  a  baronet; 
yet,  as  there   was    no   record   or 


his  own  life. 

The  dramatic  pieces  he  has  left 
behind  him  are  as  follow  : 

1.  (Jistinate  Lady.    Com.    4to. 
16.57  ;    12mo.  1658. 

2.  Trappolln  supposed  a  Prince. 
T.  C.      12mo.  1658. 

3.  A    Masque    at    Bretlie    on 
Twelfth- Xight,  l63Q.  l2mo.  1658. 

4.  Ovid's  Tragedy.     8vo.  1669 
These  were  all  published,  with 

his  Poems,  in  2  vols,  small  8vo. 
1669,  which  sell  at  a  high  price 
when  they  are  to  be  met  with. 
Phillips  and  Winstanley  have  omit- 
ted the  third  and  fourth  of  these  in 
their  account  of  his  writings,  and 
attributed  to  him  two  anonymous 


proper  enrolment  of  a  patent  to     pieces,  which  are  certainly  none  of 


that  effect,  he  was  not  universally 
allowed  the  title.  He  was  strongly 
addicted  to  books  and  the  study  of 
poetry,  in  which  he  indulged  him- 
self   in    a    retired    life,    residing 


his,  entitled, 

The/sites.     Interlude.     And 
Tyrannical  Government. 
Coxeter,  in   his  MS.  notes,  says, 
that  he  was  nephew  to  Philip,  the 


mostly  at  a  lordship  belonging  to     first  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  to  whom 


him,  called  Pooley,  in  the  pr.rish 
of  Polesworth,  in  Warwickshire. 
He  died  at  Derby  upon  the  break- 
ing of  the  great  frost  in  February 
1684,  in  the  7Sth  year  of  his  age, 
and  was  privately  buried  in  the 
chancel  of  Polesworth  church. 

Sir  Aston  is  universally  acknow- 
ledged to  have  been  a  great  lover 
of  the  polite  arts,  and  by  some  is 
esteemed  a  considerable  poet.  In 
hi  private  transactions  he  was 
greatly  deficient  in  point  of  eco- 


and  his  Countess  he  has  dedicated 
his  Masque  for  Twelfth- Night, 
which  was  performed  at  their 
country-seat,  two  of  their  sons 
acting  in  it. 

Coleridge,  S.T.  This  author 
is  a  native  of  Bristol,  and  was  a 
member  of  Jesus  College,  Cam- 
bridge. He  published  at  Bristol, 
in  early  life,  a  volume  of  Poems, 
which  was  afterwards  enlarged  and 
republished  in  London,  and  ex- 
perienced a  flattering  reception 


norriy  ;  by  which  means,  together  the  poems  exhibit,  indeed,  strong 
with  his  losses  during  the  civil  marks  of  genius,  novelty  of  con- 
wars,  he  was  obliged  to  dispose  of  ceplion,  strength  of  figure,  and 
all  his  patrimony  during  his  life-  sublimity  of  sentiment.     In  1/95, 


135 


COL 

he  printed  some  political  pam- 
phlets, and,  in  1 79^,  issued  a  weekly 
publication,  of  considerable  merit, 
.  called  The  Watchman,  which,  how- 
ever, died  at  ten  weeks  old.  Mr. 
Coleridge  claims  a  place  in  this 
work  on  account  of  the  following 
pieces  : 

1 .  The  Fall  of  Robespierre.  H .  D. 
8vo.  1794. 

2.  Piccolomini. 

3.  The  Death  of  Wallcnstein. 
Dramas.     8vo.  1800. 

Collett,  John.  This  gentle- 
man, who  is  master  of  an  aca- 
demy at  Evesham,  in  Worcester- 
shire, is  the  author  of  the  follow- 
ing sacred  dramas : 

1.  Ehud. 

2.  Naboth. 

3.  Esther. 

Published  in  a  volume,  with  a  sc- 
ries of  Elegies,   12mo.  ISOti. 

Collier,  Sir  George.  This 
gentleman  was  an  officer  of  rank 
in  the  navy.  He  was  appointed  a 
post-captain  12th  July  1/62,  and 
greatly  distinguished  himself  du- 
ring the  American  war.  He  was 
the  author  of  one  dramatic  piece 
called 

Selima  and  Azor.  Pers.  Tale. 
8vo.  17S4. 

Collingwood,  Dr.  was  au- 
thor of, 

1.  The  Agreeable  Separation. 
Com.  Ent.     l2mo.     N.  D. 

2.  The  Dead  alive  again.  T.  C. 
Farce.     12mo.     N.  D. 

Both  printed  at  Berwick;  of  which 
town  their  author  was,  probably, 
an  inhabitant. 

Colls,  J.  H.  a  provincial  ac- 
tor, who  wrote, 

1.  Theodore.     Op.     Svo.  N.D. 

2.  The  World  as  it  Goes.  V. 
1/92. 

3.  The  Loyal  Salopian.  F.  1795. 
N.P. 

4.  The  Honest  Soldier.  C.  Svo, 
1805, 


COL 


Colman,  George,  was  the  .^on 
of  Francis  Colman,  Esq.  His  Ma- 
jesty's resident  at  the  court  of  the 
Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  at  Flo- 
rence, by  n  sister  of  the  Coun- 
tess of  Bath.  He  was  born  at 
Florence  about  1733,  and  had  the 
honour  of  having  King  George 
the  Second  for  his  godfather.  He 
received  his  education  at  West- 
minster School,  where  he  very 
early  showed  his  poetical  talents. 
The  first  performance  by  him  was 
a  copy  of  verses  addressed  to  his 
cousin  Lord  Pulteney,  written  in 
the  year  1747,  while  he  was  at 
Westminster,  and  since  printed  in 
The  St.  James's  Magazine,  a  work 
published  by  his  unfortunate  friend, 
P.obert  Lloyd.  At  school  he  had 
for  his  companions  Mr.  Lloyd,  Mr. 
Churchill,  Bonnel  Thornton,  and 
some  others,  who  afterwards  dis- 
tinguished themselves  in  the  lite- 
rary world.  From  Westminster 
School  he  removed  to  Oxford,  and 
became  a  student  of  Christchurch, 
It  was  there,  at  a  very  early  age, 
that  he  engaged  with  his  friend 
Bonnel  Thornton,  in  publishing 
The  Connoisseur,  a  periodical  pa- 
per which  appeared  once  a  week, 
and  was  continued  from  Jan.  31, 
1754,  to  Sept.  30,  1756.  When 
the  age  of  the  writers  of  this  en- 
tertaining paper  is  considered,  the 
wit  and  humour,  the  spirit,  the 
good  sense  and  shrewd  observations 
on  life  and  manners,  with  which  it 
abounds,  will  excite  some  degree 
of  wonder;  but  will,  at  the  same 
time,  evidently  point  out  the  ex- 
traordinary talents  which  were  af- 
terwards to  be  more  fully  displayed 
in  The  Jealous  Wife  and  The  Clan- 
destine Marriage. 

The  recommendation  of  his 
friends,  or  his  choice,  but  probabl) 
the  former,  induced  him  ?o.fix  upon 
the  law  for  his  profession 3  and  lie 


136 


COL 


COL 


was  accordingly  entered  of  Lin-  loved,  as  they  did,  this  admirable 

coin's  Inn,  and  in  due  season  called  piece  with  the  greatest  eagerness 

to  the  bar.     He  attended  there  a  and  perseverance, 
very  short  time;  though,  if  our  re-         The    mention    of    The   Jealous 

collection  does  not  mislead  us,  he  Wife   in   Churchill's   Rosciad  oc- 

was  seen  often  enough  in  the  courts  casioned  Mr.Cclman  to  experience 

to  prevent  the  supposition  of  his  some    of  the    malevolence   which 

abandoning  the  profession  merely  that  and  other  of  Mr.  Churchill's 

for  want  of  encouragement.     It  is  satires  gave  birth  to.     Many  rude 


reasonable,  however,  to  suppose, 
that  he  felt  more  pleasure  in  at- 
tending to  the  Muse  than  to  briefs 
and  reports ;  and  rt  will  therefore. 


and  illiberal  attacks  issued  from  the 
press  against  all  the' different  com- 
batants; and  much  good  writing  and 
much  wit  and  humour  were  thrown 


excite   no   wonder,  that  he  took    away  in  this  very  acrimonious  and. 
the  earliest  opportunity  of  relin-    disgraceful  controversy. 


quishing  pursuits  not  congenial  to 
his  taste.  Apollo  and  Littleton, 
says  Wycherly,  seldom  meet  in 
the  same  brain. 


In  July  1764  Lord  Bath  died; 
and  on  that  event  Mr.  Colman 
found  himself  in  circumstances 
fully  sufficient  to   enable   him  to 


On  the  ISth  of  March  1/58,  he    follow  the  bent  of  his  genius.  The 


took  the  degree  of  master  of  arts 
at  Oxford  ;  and  in  the  year  176O 
his  first  diamatic  piece,  Polly  Ho- 
ney com  l,  was  acted  at  Drury 
Lane,  with  great  success.  For  se- 
veral years  before,  the  comic  Muse 
seemed  to  have  relinquished  the 
stage.  No  comedy  had  been  pro- 
duced at  either  theatre  since  the 
year  1751,  when  Moore's  Gil  Bias 
was  with  difficulty  performed  nine 
nights.  At  length,  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  year  l/6l,  three  dif- 
ferent authors  were  candidates  for 
public  favour  in  the  same  walk, 
almost  at  the  same  time;  viz.  Mr. 
Murphy,  who  exhibited  The  Way 
to  Keep  Him  ;  Mr.  Mackiin,  The 
Married  Libertine  ;  and  Mr.  Col- 
man, Tlie  Jealous  Wife.  The  for- 
mer and  the  latter  of  these  were 
most  successful,  and  the  latter  in  a 
much  higher  degree.  Indeed,  when 
the  excellent  performances  of 
Messrs.  Garrick,  Yates,  O'Brien, 
King,  Palmer,  Moody,  with  Mrs. 
Pritchard,  Mrs.  Give.,  and  Miss 
pritchard,  are  recollected,  it  would 


first  publication  which  he  pro- 
duced, after  this  period,  was,  a 
translation  in  blank  verse  of  the 
comedies  of  Terence,  4 to.  1/65  ; 
and  whoever  would  wish  to  see 
the  spirit  of  an  ancient  bard  trans- 
fused into  the  English  language, 
must  look  for  it  in  Mr.  Col  man's 
version. 

The  successor  of  Lord  Bath, 
General  Pulteney,  died  in  1/67; 
and  Mr.  Colman  again  found  him- 
self remembered  in  his  will,  by  a 
second  annuity,  which  confirmed 
the  independency  of  his  fortune. 
He  seems,  however,  to  have  felt 
no  charms  in  an  idle  life ;  as  in 
I/67,  he  united  with  Messrs. Har- 
ris, Rutherford,  and  Powell,  in 
the  purchase  of  Covent  Garden 
Theatre,  and  took  upon  himself 
the  laborious  office  of  acting  ma- 
nager. The  differences  which  arose 
from  this  association  are  still  in  the 
memories  of  many  of  our  readers, 
and  the  causes  of  them  perhaps  too 
ridiculous  to  be  recorded.  It  may, 
however,  in  general,  be  observed, 


have  shown  a  remarkable  want  of    that  the  appeals  to  the  public,  du- 
taste  in  the  town  not  to  have  fol-    ring  this  controversy,  do  great  ere- 


137 


COL 

i\t  to  the  talents,  if  not  the  tem- 
pers, of  each  party. 

After  continuing  manager  of  Co- 
vent  Garden  Theatre  seven  years, 
Mr.  Colman  sold  his  share  and  in- 
terest therein  to  Mr.  James  Leake, 
one  of  his  then  partners;  and,  in 
1/77 >  purchased  of  Mr.  Foote  the 
Little  Theatre  in  the  Haymarket. 
The  estimation  in  which  the  en- 
tertainments exhibited  under  his 
direction  were  held  by  the  public, 
the  reputation  which  the  theatre 
acquired,  and  the  continual  con- 
course of  the  pojite  world  during 
the  height  of  summer,  sufficiently 
spoke  the  praises  of  Mr.  Colman's 
management.  Indeed,  it  has  been 
long  admitted,  that  no  person, 
since  the  death  of  Mr.  Garrick, 
was  so  able  to  superintend  the  en- 
tertainments of  the  stage  as  the 
subject  of  this  account. 

To  sagacity  in  discovering  the 
talents  of  his  performers,  he  joined 
the  inclination  and  ability  to  dis- 
play them  with  every  advantage. 
To  him  Mr. Henderson,  Miss  Far- 
ren,  Mrs.  Bannister,  Miss  George, 
Mrs.  Wells,  and,  in  some  measure, 
Mr.  Edwin  (whose  comic  powers 
had  been  buried  a  whole  season 
under  Mr.  Foote's  management), 
besides  some  others,  owed  their 
introduction  to  a  London  audi- 
ence. 

About  the  year  l/'S5Mr.Colman 
gave  the  public  a  new  translation 
of,  and  commentary  on,  Horace's 
Art  of  Poetry  ;  in  which  he  pro- 
duced a  new  system  to  explain  this 
very  difficult  poem.  Jn  opposition 
to  Dr.  Hurd,  he  supposed,  "  that 
"  one  of  the  sons  of  Piso,  un- 
"  doubtedly  the  elder,  had  either 
"  written  or  meditated  a  poetical 
"  work,  most  probably  a  tragedy ; 
"  and  that  he  had,  with  the  know- 
"  ledge  of  the  family,  communi- 


C  O  L 

"  cated  his  piece  or  intention  to 
"  Horace.  But  Horace  either  dis- 
"  approving  of  the  work,  or  doubt- 
"  ing  of  the  poetjcal  faculties  of 
"  the  elder  Piso,  or  both,  wished 
"  to  dissuade  him  from  all  thought 
"  of  publication.  With  this  view 
"  he  formed  the  design  of  writing 
"  this  epistle  j  addressing  it,  with  a 
"  courtliness  and  delicacy  perfectly 
"  agreeable  to  his  acknowledged 
"  character,  indifferently  to  the 
"  whole  family,  the  father  and  his 
"  two  sons,  Epistola  ad  Pisones 
"  de  Arte  Poecica."  This  hypo- 
thesis is  supported  with  much  learn- 
ing, ingenuity,  and  modesty  ;  and, 
if  not  fully  established,  is  at  least 
as  well  entitled  to  applause  as  that 
adopted  by  the  Bishop  of  Wor- 
cester. 

On  the  publication  of  the  Ho- 
race, the  Bishop  said  to  Dr.  Dou- 
glas, "  Give  my  compliments  to 
"  Colman,  and  thank  him  for  the 
"  handsome  manner  in  which  he 
"  has  treated  me  ;  and  tell  him, 
"  that  I  think  he  is  right." 

Mr.  Colman  paid  his  court  al- 
most solely  to  the  comic  Muse;  by 
whose  inspiration  he  produced  the 
following  dramas,  viz. 

1.  Polly  Honeycomb.  Dram. 
Nov.     Svo.  1760. 

2.  The  Jealous  Wife.  C.  8vo. 
1/61. 

3.  The  Musical  Lady .  F.  Svo. 
1762. 

4.  Philaster.  T.  altered.  Svo. 
1763. 

5.  The  Deuce  is  in  him.  F.  Svo. 
1763. 

6.  The  Clandestine  Marriage. 
C.     Svo.  1766. 

7.  The  English  Merchant.  C. 
8vo.  1767- 

8.  The  Merchant.  C.  Printed 
in  Thornton's  translation  of  Plau- 
tus.     Svo.  1767. 


133 


COL 

p.  King  Lear.  T.  altered.  8vo. 
J  708. 

10.  The  Oxonian  in  Town.  C. 
8vo.  17/0. 

11.  Man  and  Wife.  C.  8vo. 
1770. 

12.  The  Portrait.  Burl.  8vo. 
1770. 

13.  The  Fairy  Prince.  M.  Svo. 

3771. 

14.  Comus.     M.  altered.     Svo. 

1772. 

15.  Achilles  in  Petticoats.  O. 
altered.     Svo.  1//4. 

16.  The  Man  of  Business.  C. 
Svo.  1774. 

17.  Epicene;  or,  The  Silent 
Woman.     C.  altered.     Svo.  177'3- 

18.  The  Spleen ;  or,  Islington  Spa. 
C.  P.     Svo.  1776. 

10.    Occasional   prelude.      8vo. 

1776- 

20.  New  Brooms.     O.  P.     Svo. 

K70. 

21.  The  Spanish    Barber.      C. 

1777-     N-  P- 

22.  Polly.  Op.  altered  from 
Gay.     Svo.  1777- 

23.  The  Sheep  Shearing.  D.  P. 
Svo.  1777. 

24.  The  Female  Chevalier.  C. 
altered.     1/78.     N.  P. 

25.  Bonduca.  T.  altered.  Svo. 
1778. 

26.  The  Suicide.  C.   17/3.  N. P. 

27.  77/e  Separate  Maintenance. 
C.     I77P.     N.  P. 

2S.  The  Manager  in  Distress. 
Prel.     Svo.  17SO. 

20.  The  Genius  of  Nonsense.  Pant. 
178O.    N.P. 

30.  Preludio.    17S1.     N.P. 

31.  Harlequin  Teagus.  Pant. 
1782. 

32.  Ffl.'a/  Curiosity.  T.  altered. 
Svo.  1/S3. 

33.  The  Election  cf  Managers. 
Prel.  1784.     X.  P. 

34.  Tit  for  Tat.  C.  17§6:  Svo. 
1788. 


COL 

35.   Ut  Pictura  Poesis.     M.  E. 
Svo.  1789. 

These  dramas  have  considerable 
merit.  In  his  petite  pieces  the 
plots  are  simple,  and  no  great 
matter  of  incidentis  introduced  into 
tliem;  yet  they  contain  strong  cha- 
racter, and  are  aimed  at  the  ridi- 
culing of  fashionable  and  prevail- 
ing follies,  which  ought  to  be  made 
essential  points  of  consideration  in 
every  production  of  the  sock.  His 
more  regular  comedies  have  the 
same  merit  with  the  others  3s  to 
the  preservation  of  character/vvhich 
reflect  honour  on  the  author.  Be- 
sides his  dramatic  works,  and  those 
we  have  already  mentioned,  he 
was  the  author  of  a  preface  to 
the  last  edition  of  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher,  a  dissertation  prefixed  to 
Massinger,  a  series  of  papers  in 
The  St.  James's  Chronicle  under 
the  title  of  The  Genius,  and  many 
other  fugitive  pieces. 

At  the  close  of  the  theatrical 
season  of  1/85,  Mr.  Colman  was 
seized  at  Margate  with  the  palsy  ; 
and  at  the  beginning  of  the  season 
of  I78Q  he  first  showed  symptoms 
of  derangement  of  his  mind ,  which, 
increasing  gradually,  left  him  in 
a  state  of  idiotism.  On  this  oc- 
casion the  concluding  lines  of  his 
friend  Churchill's  Epistle  to  Ho- 
garth will  naturally  intrude  them- 
selves on  our  reader"s  attention  : 

"Sure   'tis  a  curse   which   angry  fates 

impose, 
<•  To  mortify  man's  arrogance,  that  those 
"  Who  're  fashion'd  ot  some  better  sort  ot 

clay, 
"  Much  sooner  than  the  common  herd 

decay. 
"  What  bitter  pangs  must  humbled  Ge- 
nius fee!, 
"  In  their  last  hour  to  view  a  Swift  ir.i 

Steele ! 
"  How  must  ill-boding  horrors  fill  her 

breast, 
<■•  When  she  beholds  men,maik'i  above 

the  rest 


139 


COL 


"  For  qualities  most  dear,  plung'd  from 

that  height, 
"  And  sunk,  deep  sunk,  in  second  child- 
hood's night ! 
*'  Are  men  indeed  such  things?   And  are 

the  best 
*•  Mure  subject  to  this  evil  than  the  rest, 
"  To   drivel   out   whole   years   of  idiot 

breath, 
*'  And  sit  the  monuments  of  living  death  ? 
*'  O, galling  circumstance  to  human  pride! 
"  Abasing  thought!  but  not  to  be  denj'd. 
•'  With  curious  art  the  biain,  too  finely 

wrought, 
*'  Preys  on  herself,  and  is  destroy'd  by 

thought. 
"  Constant    attention  wears  the  active 

mind, 
J'  Blots  out  her  pow'rs,    and    leaves    a 

blank  behind." 

In  this  sad  state  he  was  com- 
mitted to  the  care  of  a  person  at 
Paddington  ;  and  the  management 
of  the  theatre  was  intrusted  to  his 
son,  with  an  allowance  of  tiOO/.  a 
year. 

Mr.  Colman  died  at  Padding- 
ton, on  the  14th  of  August  1794, 
at  the  age  of  62.  A  few  hours  be- 
fore his  death  he  was  seized  with 
violent  spasms ;  and  these  were 
succeeded  by  a  melancholy  stupor, 
in  which  he  drew  his  last  breath. 

Colman,  George,  Junior  (for 
so  this  gentleman  has  continued  to 
style  himself,  though  his  father  has 
been  dead  seventeen  years),  is  the 
son  of  the  subject  of  our  foregoing 
article.  With  the  precise  time  of 
his  birth  we  are  unacquainted  ;  but 
we  suppose  it  to  have  been  about 
the  year  1767.  He  received  his 
early  education  at  Mr.  Fountain's 
academy  in  Marybone,  at  that  time 
in  high  estimation.  He  was  next 
sent  to  Westminster  School,  and 
afterwards  entered  at  Christchurch 
College,  Oxford ;  but,  for  what 
reason  we  know  not,  he  finished 
his  education  at  King's  College, 
Old  Aberdeen;  whence  he  return- 
ed to  London,  and  was  entered  of 
the  Temple  j  with  the  design,,  it  is 


COL 

said,  to  qualify  him  for  the  bar. 
But  if  so,  he  early  in  life  resigned 
Coke  and  Littleton  in  favour  of  the 
Muses.  The  consciousness  of  li- 
terary talents,  and  an  easy  access 
to  the  public  through  the  medium 
of  his  father's  theatre,  naturally 
directed  his  attention  to  the  dra- 
ma ;  and  his  parent  seemed  to 
foster  his  genius ;  as  he,  in  the 
prologue  to  the  first  play  of  his 
son's,  announced  him  "as  "  a  chip 
"  of  the  old  block."  When  his 
father  was  seized  with  that  ma- 
lady which  rendered  him  inca- 
pable of  superintending  the  thea- 
tre, Mr.  Colman  evinced  a  most 
commendable  filial  affection,  by 
the  great  attention  that  he  paid  to 
him  and  to  the  interests  of  his 
theatre.  On  the  death  of  his  fa- 
ther, His  Majesty  was  pleased  to 
transfer  the  patent  to  him;  and 
he  has  discharged  the  duties  of 
manager  with  zeal  and  alacrity  to- 
wards the  public,  and  liberality 
towards  authors  and  actors.  In 
private  life  Mr.  Colman  is  social, 
convivial,  and  intelligent ;  and  in 
the  playful  contentions  of  wit  and 
humour,  and  particularly  that 
agreeable  coruscation  calied  re- 
partee, he  may  perhaps  be  equal- 
led, but,  we  think,  has  rarely  been 
excelled. 

In  his  heroic  pieces,  we  observe 
a  poetical  vigour,  a  form  of  lan- 
guage, and  a  cast  of  sentiment, 
that  forcibly  remind  us  of  the 
very  best  of  our  ancient  dramatic 
writers. 

Four  of  his  farces,  namely,  those 
numbered  15,  19,  20,  and  22,  in 
the  following  list,  were  introduced 
to  the  public  under  the  assumed 
name  of  Arthur  Grijflnhoof,  of 
Turnham  Green  ;  which  is  well 
known  to  have  been  used  by  Mr. 
Colman  as  a  noni  de guerre,  through 
the  apprehension  that  disrepute  as 


110 


C  0  L 

a  firce-writer  might  have  beep 
prejudicial  to  him  as  the  nuthor  of 
any  kin  !  of  regular  drama.  The 
annexed  is  a  list  ot"  his  dramatic 
productions : 

1.  Two  to  One.  Mus.C.  [Songs 
only  printed.]      8vo.  1/84. 

2.  Turk  and  no  Turk.  Mus.  C. 
[Songs  only  printed.]     8vo.  1/85. 

3.  Inkle  and  Yarico.  Op.  Svo. 
N.D.  [1787] 

4.  Ways  and  Means.  C.  Svo. 
178& 

5.  Poor  Old  Ha}/ market.  Prel. 
Svo.  1/P2. 

6.  Mountaineers.  P.   Svo.  179-5- 

7.  New  Hay  at  the  Old  Market. 
Oe.  Dr.  8vo.  179.5.  (Now  called 
Sylvester  Daggerwood.) 

8.  Iron  Chest.  P.  Svo.  1/Q6. 
0.  Blue  Beard.  M.  E.  Svo.  1 798. 

10.  Feudal  Times.  D.  Svo.  1799. 

11.  Poor  Gentleman.  C.  Svo. 
1802. 

12.  John  Bull.  C.  Svo.  N.D. 
[1 805.] 

13.  IVho  want's  a  Guinea?  C. 
Svo.  1805. 

14.  #5  Fly  ly  Night.  F.  8vo. 
1806". 

15.  The  Battle  of  Hexham.  M.D. 
Svo.  1S0S. 

16.  Surrender  of  Calais.  Play, 
1701  3  Svo.  1808. 

\  J.  Heir  at  Law.  C.  8vo.lS08. 
18.  if/«e  Wj.  F.  Svo.  1S0S. 
10.  Review.    M.F.     Svo.  180S. 

20.  G<»/  Deceivers.  F.  Svo. 
1S0S. 

21.  The  Africans.  P.  Svo.  1S08. 

22.  Lot'(?  laughs  at  Locksmiths. 
F.     Svo.  1808. 

23.  X  r.Z.  Farce.  1810.  N.P. 
In  the  spring  of  the  year  179". 

Mr.  Colman  published  My  Night- 
gown and  Slippers,  a  thin  quarto 
(since  printed  iri  small  octavo), 
consisting  of  some  amusing  poeti- 
cal trifles.  In  prologue  and  epi- 
loeue   writing,  we  cannot   better 


C  O   \ 

compare  Mr.  Colman  with  any  one 
than  with  the  late  Mi'.Garrick.  His 
compositions  in  this  way  are  very 
abundant,  and  excellent  in  their 
kind. 

Concanen,  Matthew.  This 
gentleman  was  a  native  of  Ireland, 
and  descended  from  a  good  fa- 
mily in  that  kingdom.  He  had  a 
liberal  education  bestowed  on  him 
by  his  parents,  and  was  bred  to 
the  law.  His  wit  and  literary  abi- 
lities recommended  him  to  the  fa- 
vour of  his  Grace  the  Duke  of 
Newcastle ;  through  whose  interest 
he  obtained  the  post  of  attorney- 
general  of  the  island  of  Jamaica, 
which  office  he  filled  with  the  ut- 
most integrity  and  honour,  and  to 
the  perfect  satisfaction  of  the  in- 
habitants, for  near  seventeen  years ; 
when  having  acquired  an  ample 
fortune,  he  was  desirous  of  pass- 
ing the  close  of  his  life  in  his 
native  country ;  with  which  in- 
tention he  quitted  Jamaica  and 
came  to  London,  proposing  to  spend 
some  little  time  there  before  he 
went  to  settle  entirely  in  Ireland. 
Eut  the  difference  of  climate  be- 
tween that  metropolis  and  the 
place  he  had  so  long  been  accus- 
tomed to,  had  such  an  effect  on 
his  constitution,  that  he  fell  into  a 
galloping  consumption,  of  which 
be  died  0.1  the  22d  of  January 
1749,  a  few  weeks  after  his  ar- 
rival in  London. 

The  world  is  obliged  to  him 
for  several  original  poems,  which, 
though  small,  have  considerable 
merit;  and  for  one  play  entitled 

Wexford  Wells.  C.  Svo.  1/21. 
He  was  also  concerned  with  Mr. 
Roome  and  another  gentleman  in 
altering  Richard  Brome's  Jovial 
Crew  into  a  ballad  opera,  in  which 
shape  it  is  now  occasionally  per- 
formed. As  to  his  prose  writings, 
they  are  mostly  political,  or  criti- 


141 


CON 

cal ;  in  the  latter  of  which  having 
pretty  severely  attacked  Mr.  Pope 
an  I  Dean  Swift,  the  former,  whose 
disposition  was  on  no  occasion 
of  the  most  forgiving  nature,  has 
handled  htm  very  severely  in  The 
Dvnciad. 

Congreve,  William.  This 
gentleman  was  descended  from  the 
ancient  family  of  the  Congreves, 
of  Congreve  in  Staffordshire  ;  his 
father  being  second  son  to  Richard 
Congreve,  of  that  place.  Some 
authors,  and  in  particular  Sir  James 
Ware,  contend  for  his  having  been 
born  in  Ireland ;  but  Jacob,  who 
was  particularly  acquainted  with 
him,  and  who  in  his  preface  ac- 
knowledges his  obligations  to  Mr. 
Congreve  for  his  communication 
of  what  related  to  himself,  has 
absolutely  contradicted  that  report. 
The  matter,  however,  is  now  put 
out  of  dispute  by  the  register  of 
the  coUege  of  Dublin  (where  he 
was  educated),  in  which  the  fol- 
lowing entry  is  found:  "  10*85,  die 
"  quinto  Aprilis  hora  die  pomerid. 
"  Gulielmus  Congreve  pension.* 
"  films  Guli.  Congreve  generosi  de 
"  Youghalia  annos  natus  sexdecim 
"  natus  Bardsagram  in  Com  Elor- 
'•'  acen  educ  Kilkenniae  sat  ferula 
' :  doct  Hinton."  Tutor  St.  George 
Ashe. — The  place  called  Bardsa, 
not  far  from  Leeds  in  Yorkshire, 
was  part  of  the  estate  of  Sir  John 
Lewis,  his  great-uncle  by  his  mo- 
ther's side.  It  is  certain,  however, 
that  he  went  over  to  Ireland  when 
very  young;  for  his  father  being 
only  a  younger  brother,  and  pro- 
vided for  in  the  army  by  a  com- 
mission on  the  Irish  establishment, 
was  compelled  to  undertake  a 
journey  thither  in  consequence  of 
his  command  ;  which  he  after- 
wards parted  with  to  accept  of 
the  management  of  a  considerable 
estate  belonging  to  the  Burlington 


CON 

family,  which  fixed  his  residence 
there.  However,  though  he  suf- 
fered this  son  to  receive  his  hist 
tincture  of  letters  in  the  great 
school  at  Kilkenny,  and  afterwards 
to  complete  his  classical  learning 
under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Ashe,  in 
the  university  of  Dublin,  yet  be- 
ing desirous  that  his  studies  should 
be  directed  to  profit  as  well  as 
improvement,  he  sent  him  over  to 
England  soon  after  the  Revolution, 
and  placed  him  as  a  student  in  the 
Temple.  The  dry,  plodding  study 
of  the  law,  however,  was  by  no 
means  suitable  to  the  sprightly 
volatile  genius  of  Mr.  Congreve ; 
and  therefore,  though  he  did  not 
want  for  approbation  in  those  stu- 
dies to  which  his  genius  led  him, yet 
he  did  not  even  attempt  to  make 
any  proficiency  in  a  service  which 
he  was  probably  conscious  he 
should  make  no  figure  in.  Excel- 
lence and  perfection  were  what,  it 
is  apparent,  he  laid  it  down  as  his 
principle,  from  the  very  first,  to 
make  it  his  aim  to  acquire;  for,  in 
the  very  earliest  emanation  of  his 
genius,  and  a  very  early  one  indeed 
it  was,  viz.  his  novel  called  Incog- 
nita, or,  Love  and  Duty  reconciled, 
written  when  he  was  not  above  17 
years  of  age,  he  had  not  only  en- 
deavoured at,  but  indeed  succeed- 
ed in,  the  presenting  to  the  world 
not  a  mere  novel  according  to  taste 
and  fashion  then  prevailing,  but 
a  piece  which  should  point  out, 
and  be  in  itself  a  model  of,  what 
novels  ought  to  be.  And  t hough 
this  cannot  itself  be  called  with 
propriety  a  dramatic  work,  yet  he 
has  so  strictly  adhered  to  dramatic 
rules  in  the  composition  of  it,  that 
his  arriving  at  so  great  a  degree  of 
perfection  in  the  regular  drama; 
in  so  short  a  time  afterwards,  is 
hardly  to  be  wondered  at.  His 
first  play  was  The  Old  Bachelor  j 


112 


CON 
of  which  he  says,  in  his  defence 
against  Collier,  it  "  was  written, 
*'  as  several  know,  some  years  be- 
"  fore  it  was  acted.  When  I  wrote 
"  it,  I  had  little  thoughts  of  the 
"  stage ;  but  did  it,  to  amuse  my- 
"  self  in  a  slow  recovery  from  a 
"  fit  of  sickness.  Afterwards, 
"  through  my  indiscretion,  it  was 
"  seen,  and  in  some  little  time 
"  more  it  was  acted:  and  I,  through 
"  the  remainder  of  my  indiscre- 
"  tion,  suffered  myself  to  be  drawn 
"  in,  to  the  prosecution  of  a  diffi- 
"  cult  and  thankless  study,  and  to 
"  be  involved  in  a  perpetual  war 
"  with  knaves  and  fools."  There 
seems  (as  Dr.  Johnson  says)  to  be 
a  strange  affectation  in  authors  of 
appearing  to  have  done  every  thing 
by  chance.  The  Old  Bachelor  was 
written  for  amusement,  in  the 
languor  of  convalescence.  Yet  it 
is  apparently  composed  with  great 
elaborateness  of  dialogue,  and  in- 
cessant ambition  of  wit.  The  age 
of  the  writer  considered,  it  is  in- 
deed a  very  wonderful  perform- 
ance. Dryden  said,  that  he  ne- 
ver had  seen  such  a  first  play ;  and 
that  great  poet  having,  in  con- 
junction with  Mr.  Southern  and 
.  Arthur  Maynwaring,  Esq.  given 
it  a  slight  revisal,  the  manager  of 
Drury  Lane  theatre  brought  it  on 
the  stage  in  WQ3.  where  it  met 
with  such  universal  approbation, 
that  Mr.  Congreve,  though  he  was 
but  nineteen  years  of  age  at  the 
time  of  his  writing  it,  became 
now  considered  as  a  prop  to  the 
declining  stage,  and  a  rising  genius 
in  dramatic  poetry.  The  next  year 
he  produced  The  Double  Dealer, 
which,  but  for  what  reason  we 
know  not,  did  not  meet  with 
so  much  success  as  the  former. 
The  merit  of  his  first  play,  how- 
ever, had  obtained  him  the  favour 
and   patronage  of  Lord  Halifax, 


CON 
and  some  peculiar  marks  of  dis- 
tinction  from  Queen  Mar)  ;  on 
■  death,  which  happened  in 
the  close  of  this  year,  he  wrote  a 
pastoral  of  but  little  merit.  In 
1695,  when  Betterton  opened  the 
new  house  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 
Mr.  Congreve,  joining  with  him, 
gave  him  his  comedy  of  Love  for 
Love,  with  which  the  company 
began  their  campaign,  and  which 
met  with  such  success,  that  ihey 
immediately  offered  the  author  a 
share  in  the  profits  of  the  house, 
on  condition  of  his  furnishing 
them  with  one  play  yearly.  This 
offer  he  accepted ;  but  whether 
through  indolence,  or  that  correct- 
ness which  he  looked  on  as  neces- 
sary to  his  works,  his  Mourning 
Bride  did  not  come  out  till  1697, 
nor  his  Way  of  the  World  till  two 
years  after  that.  The  indifferent 
success  this  last-mentioned  play, 
though  an  exceedingly  good  one, 
met  with  from  the  public,completed 
that  disgust  to  the  theatre,  which  a 
long  contest  with  Jeremy  Collier, 
who  had  attacked  the  immoralities 
of  the  English  stage,  and  more  es- 
pecially some  of  his  pieces,  had 
begun,  and  he  determined  never 
more  to  write  for  the  stage.  This 
resolution  (says  Mr.  Baker)  he 
punctually  kept;  and  Mr.  Dennis's 
observation  on  that  point  was, 
"  that  Mr.  Congreve  quitted  the 
"  stage  early,  and  that  Comedy 
"  lefi  it  with  him."  Yet,  though 
he  added  little  more  to  his  dramatic 
writings,  he  did  not  lay  down  the 
pen  entirely  ;  but  occasionally 
wrote  many  little  pieces  both  in 
prose  and  verse,  all  of  which  stand 
on  the  records  of  English  litera- 
ture. 

It  is  very  possible,  however,  that 
he  might  not  so  soon  have  given 
way  to  this  disgust,  had  not  the 
easiness  of  his  circumstances  ren- 


143 


CON 

•  red  any  subservience  to  the  opi- 
aod  caprice  of  the  town  ab- 
solutely unnecessary  to  him  :  for 
bis  abilities  having  very  early  in 
life  introduced  him  totheacquaint- 
ance  of  the  Earl  of  Halifax,  who 
was  then  the  Maecenas  of  the  age,  , 
■  man,  desirous  of  raising 
so  promising  a  genius  above  the 
necessity  of  too  hasty  productions, 
made  him  one  of  the  commissioners 
for  licensing  hackney-coaches.  He 
soon  after  bestowed  on  him  a  place 
in  the  Pipe  Office,  and  not  long 
after  that  gave  him  a  post  in  the 
customs  worth  six  hundred  pounds 
per  annum. 

On  the  14th  of  November  171-1, 
was  ap|  ointed  commissioner  of 
wine-licenses;  and  on  the  17th  of 
December,  in  the  same  year,  was 
nominated  secretary  of  Jamaica  5 
«o  that,  with  all  together,  his  in- 
come towards  the  latter  part  of 
his  life  was  upwards  of  twelve 
hundred  pounds  a  year.  Thus  ex- 
.:!;cd  above  dependence,  it  is  no 
•vender  he  would  not  longer  ren- 
der himself  subject  to  the  capri- 
cious censures  of  impotent  critics. 
And  had  his  poetical  father,  Mr. 
Dryden,  ever  been  raised  to  the 
same  circumstances,  it  is  probable 
that  his  All  for  Love  would  not 
now  have  been  esteemed  the  best 
of  his  dramatic  pieces. 

But  to  return  to  Congreve.  The 
greater  part  of  the  last  twenty 
years  of  his  life  was  spent  in  ease 
and  retirement ;  and  he  either  did 
not,  or  affected  not  to  give  himself 
any  trouble  about  reputation  :  yet 
some  part  of  that  conduct  might 
proceed  from  a  degree  of  pride. 
T.  Cibber,  in  his  Lives  of  the 
Poets,  vol.  iv.  p.  93,  relates  an 
anecdote  of  him,  which  we  can- 
not properly  omit  here  :  "  When 
■*  the  celebrated  Voltaire  (says  he) 
"  was  in  England,  he  waited  upon 


CON 

"  Congreve,  and  passed  him  som« 
"  compliments  as  to  the  reputa- 
"  tion  and  merit  of  his  works. 
"  Congreve  thanked  him  ;  but  at 
"  the  same  time  told  that  inge- 
"  nious  foreigner,  he  did  not  choose 
"  to  be  considered  as  an  author,  lut 
"  only  asa  private gentleman, and  in 
"  that  light  expected  to  be  visited. 
"  Voltaire  answered,  that  if  he  had 
"  never  been  any  thing  but  a  pri~ 
"  vote  gentleman,  in  all  probability 
"  he  had  never  been  troubled  with 
"  that  visit.  And  observes,  in  his 
"  own  account  of  the  transaction, 
"  that  he  was  not  a  little  disgusted 
"  with  so  unseasonable  a  piece  of 
"  vanity." 

Towards  the  close  of  his  life  he 
was  much  afflicted  with  the  gout, 
and  with  blindness;  when, making 
a  tour  to  Bath  for  the  benefit  of  the 
waters,  he  was  unfortunately  over- 
turned in  his  chariot,  by  which  it 
is  supposed  he  got  some  inward 
bruise,  as  he  ever  after  complained 
of  a  pain  in  his  side,  and,  on  his 
return  to  London,  continued  gra- 
dually declining  in  his  health,  till 
the  19th  of  January  l/2p,  when 
he  died,  aged  57,  at  his  house  in. 
Surrey  Street,  in  the  Strand ;  and 
on  the  26th  following  was  buried 
in~  Westminster  Abbey,  the  pall 
being  supported  by  persons  of  the 
first  distinction. 

His  dramatic  pieces  are  seven  in 
number,  and  their  titles  as  follow  : 

1.  Old  Bachelor.  C.  4to.  1003. 

2.  Double  Dealer.  C.  4to.  ItXH. 

3.  Love  for  Love.  C.  4to.  l6'()5. 

4.  Mourning  Bride.  T.  4to.  I697. 

5.  Way  of  the  World.  C.  4to. 
1700. 

6.  Judgment  of  Paris.  Masque. 
4to.  1701. 

7.  Semele.     O.     4to.  1707. 
Of   his   genius  as   a  dramatist, 

Dr.  Johnson  speaks  thus  :  "  Con- 
"  greve  has  merit  of  the  highest 


144 


CON 

"  kind  ;  he  is  an  original  writer, 
"  who  borrowed  neither  the  mo- 
"  dels  of  his  plot,  nor  the  manner 
"  of  his  dialogue.  Of  his  plays 
'•'  I  cannot  speak  distinctly ;  for 
"  since  I  inspected  them  many 
"  years  have  passed ;  but  what 
"  remains  upon  my  memory  is, 
"  that  his  characters  are  com- 
"  monly   fictitious   and   artificial, 


C  O  N 
ment  for  Higham  Ferrers.  He  wa» 
chosen  member  of  the  House  of 
Commons  in  both  kingdoms,  in 
several  parliaments.  In  1741,  he 
was  a  captain-lieutenant  in  the 
guards,  with  the  rank  of  lieutenant- 
colonel.  In  l/'iti,  he  was  aid-de- 
camp to  the  Duke  of  Cumberland. 
In  December  1/47,  he  married 
the  Countess  of  Aylesbury,  widow 


"  with  very  little  of  nature,  and  of  the  late  Lord  Aylesbury,  and 

"  not  much  of  life.     He  formed  sister  to  the  present  Duke  of  Ar- 

"  a  peculiar  idea  of  comic  excel-  gyle.     In  3  7^£)>  he  was  appointed 

"  lence,    which    he   supposed    to  colonel    of    the    4Sth    foot;     in 

*-*  consist    in     gay   remarks    and  17^1,  made  colonel  of  the  13th 

"  unexpected  answers  5    but   that  regiment  of  dragoons,  and  resigned 

«'  which  he  endeavoured,   he  sel-  the  48th;  and  in  1759,  colonel  of 


'*  dom  failed  of  performing.  His 
'•  scenes  exhibit  not  much  of  hu- 
'■  mour,  imagery,  or  passion  :  his 
"  personages  are  a  kind  of  intel- 


the  first  regiment  of  dragoons.  In 
1 7^6,  he  was  made  a  major- 
general  ;  in  1759,  a  lieutenant- 
general;   and  May  25,  1772,  was 


ft  lectual   gladiators;    every    sen-  advanced  to  the  rank  of  general. 

"  tence  is  to  ward  or  strike ;  the  He    served    with    reputation     in 

"  contest  of   smartness   is   never  several    military    capacities,    and 

"  intermitted;  his  wit  is  a  me-  commanded  the   British  forces  in 

"  teor  playing  to  and  fro  with  al-  Germany  under  Prince  Frederic  of 

"  ternate   coruscations.     His   co-  Brunswick,  during  the  absence  of 

"  medies  have  therefore,  in  some  the   Marquis   of  Granby,    1761  ; 

tC  degree,  the  operation  of  trage-  in  which   his  acknowledged  skill 

"  dies ;  they  surprise  rather  than  and  bravery  were  the  subjects  of 

"  divert,     and    raise    admiration  general  encomium.     His  civil  ap- 

'*  oftener   than   merriment.     But  pointments  have  been,  one  of  the 

,f  they  are  the  works  of  a   mind  grooms  of  the  bedchamber  to  the 

"  replete  with  images,  and  quick  late  King,  and  to  the  present  until 

"  in  combination."  April    1764;    when   he    was   re- 

Coxolly,  Mb.      This   gentle-  moved,  both    from   his   regiment 

man  was  of  the  kingdom  of  Ire-  and  the   bedchamber,  for  having 

land,  and  a  student  in  the  Temple,  voted  against  the  then  ministers. 

He  wrote  one  unsuccessful  play,  In  1705  he  was  made  Secretary  of 

entitled  State  for  the  northern  department. 

The  Connoisseur.  C.  8vo.  1736.  A   little   time  after    the  appoint-" 

Coxeter  in    his   notes   calls    him  ment  of  Lord  Townshend  Lord- 

Connol ;    but  on  what  authority  lieutenant    of   Ireland,    17*57*    he 

we  know  not.  succeeded  his  Lordship  as  lieute- 

Conway,  Right  Hon.  Henry  nant-general  of  the  ordnance,  and 

Skymour,  uncle  to  the  Marquis  of  resigned  his  post  as  Secretary  of 

Hertford,  was  born  in  1720.     In  State,  in  January  176S.     In   Fe- 


1741,  he  was  elected  a  member 
of  the  Irish  parliament,  for  the 
county  of  Antrim ;  and  in  the 
same  year  to   the  British    parlia- 


bruary  of  the  same  year,  he  was 
appointed  colonel  of  the  fourth  re- 
giment of  dragoons.  In  1772,  he 
was  made  governor  of  Jersey,  upon 


coo 

the  death  of  the  late  Lord  Albe- 
marle. In  October  1 7/4,  he  was 
appointed  colonel  of  the  royal  re- 
.  giment  of  horse-guards,  which  had 
been  commanded  by  the  late  Mar- 
quis of  Granby  ;  and  in  1/S2,  he 
was  appointed  commander  in  chief 
of  the  forces.  At  the  time  of  his 
death,  occasioned  by  the  cramp  in 
his  stomach,  July  9,  1795,  he  was 
the  oldest  general  officer  in  the 
army,  and  premier  field-marshal  of 
Great  Britain.  His  right  to  a  place 
in  this  work  arises  from  his  having 
been  the  author  of 

Fake  Appearances.  Com.  Svo. 
1739. 

Cooke,  Johnt.  -  Of  this  author 
no  further  account  is  extant,  than 
that  he  wrote  in  King  James  I.'s 
time,  and  obliged  the  world  with 
one  play  entitled 

Green's   Tu   Quaque.     C.     4to. 

He  was  also  author  of  fifty  epi- 
grams, entered  in  the  book  of 
the  Stationers'  Company,  22  May 
1 604. 

Cooke,  A.  M.  E.  By  the  last 
three  letters  (intended  for  Adam 
Moses  Emanuel)  this  unhappy  lu- 
natic used  to  distinguish  himself. 
His  real  name  was  Thomas,  and 
lie  was  born  in  Northumberland, 
received  a  liberal  education  there, 
and  from  thence  was  sent  to 
Queen's  College,  Oxford.  In  due 
time  he  entered  into  orders,  re- 
turned to  his  native  county,  and 
was  soon  after  presented  to  a  good 
living.  A  turn  for  mysteries  led 
him  to  a  perusal  of  our  mystic 
writers,  and  he  caught  the  same 
enthusiastic  flame  which  warmed 
them.  A  recluse  and  sedentary 
life  greatly  cherished  his  notions  ; 
and  it  was  not  long  before  he  was 
looked  on  by  all  the  country  as  a 
second  Jacob  Behmen.  He  had 
aome  notions  peculiar  to  himself. 

vol.  1. 


145 

COO 

He  maintained  in  his  sermons,  and 
in  his  private  conversation,  that 
the  Jewish  ceremonies  were  not 
abrogated  by  the  Christian  dispen- 
sation. In  particular,  he  insisted 
on  the  necessity  of  circumcision, 
and  supported  his  doctrine  by  his 
own  practice.  Such  novel  no- 
tions, and  such  extravagant  beha- 
viour, in  a  protestant  clergyman, 
soon  reached  the  ears  of  the  Bi- 
shop of  the  diocese ;  and  in  con- 
sequence thereof  he  was  deprived, 
and  his  living  given  to  another. 
Our  Jewish  Christian  then  came 
to  London,  and  commenced  au- 
thor; but  his  unintelligible  jargon 
not  selling,  he  was  reduced  to  great 
distress.  In  this  dilemma  he  knew 
not  what  to  do ;  but  at  last  put  in 
practice  another  odd  notion,  that 
the  goods  of  fortune  ought  to  be 
shared  in  eommon  by  all  God's 
creatures. 

Among  various  expedients  for 
satisfying  his  hunger  formed  upon 
this  plan,  one  was  to  resort  to  some 
well-frequented  coffee-house,  and, 
placing  himself  at  a  table,  to  ap- 
propriate to  his  own  use  the  first 
buttered  muffin  and  pot  of  coffee 
that  was  brought  to  it.  This  he 
would  often  be  permitted  to  do 
without  any  interruption  from  the 
gentlemen  that  sat  near  him,  some 
of  whom  were  diverted,  and  some 
astonished,  to  see  a  clergyman  fa- 
miliarly regale  himself  with  a  break- 
fast that  was  not  provided  for  him. 
As  soon  as  it  was  finished,  how- 
ever, he  would  rise  from  the  table, 
say  a  short  grace,  and  very  uncon- 
cernedly make  towards  the  door  j 
and,  when  questioned  by  the  mas- 
ter of  the  coffee-house  ::bout  the 
impropriety  of  using  that  which 
he  did  not  order,  and  the  injustice 
of  not  paying  for  it  when  he  had 
done,  he  would  prove  by  mode 
and  figure,  that  the  good  things  of 


146 


COO 


COO 


this  world  ought  to  be  in  common,  is  said  to  have  been  occasioned  by 
The  bucks  and  bloods  enjoyed  his  copying Origen  too  closely.  The 
the  joke,  and  a  ring  was  usually  time  when  it  happened  is  uncer- 
formed  for  the  two  disputants,  the  tain.  He  published  two  pieces, 
parson  and  the  coffee-man ;  but  which  no  one  except  a  lunatic 
the  latter  being  unable  to  invali-  could  have  written.  They  are  en- 
date  the  testimonies  brought  out  titled, 
of  the  Talmud  and  many  learned  ] .  The  Kins,  cannot  err.     Com. 


writings,  which  were  quoted  in 
Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Latin,  the 
former  always  came  off  victorious. 


12mo.     N.  D.   [1/62.] 

2.   The    Hermit   converted;    or, 
The  Maid  of  Bath  married.     Svo. 


Another  practice  by  which  this    N.  D.  [1771.] 
gentleman  signalized  himself  was        Mr.  Cooke  is  said  to  have  been 
street-preaching}  and  having  some    better  versed  in  the  art  of  collect- 


time  before  let  his  beard  grow,  he 
was  generally  known  by  the  name 
of  The  Bearded  Priest,  In  this 
extravagant  manner  he  went  on 
for  some  time,  till  some  clergy- 


ing  money  by  subscription  than 
any  of  his  contemporaries.  He 
always  procured  the  earliest  intel- 
ligence of  a  young  nobleman  re- 
turned from  his  travels,  an  heir 


men  made  interest  for  him  to  be    lately  come  of  age,  or  a  rich  Creole 


sent  to  Bedlam,  where  he  was  con- 
fined for  about  two  or  three  years. 
As  soon  as  he  was  released,  he 
took  a  resolution  of  going  to  Scot- 


newly  landed.  On  the  receipt  of 
such  information,  he  conducted 
his  attack  as  follows  : 

He  first  waited  on  my  Lord,  Sir 


land,  and  actually  travelled  over  John,  or  the  Esquire,  and  solicited 

that  country  on  foot  with  not.  a  and  received  the  single  subscrip- 

single farthing  in  his  pocket;  sub-  tion  of  perhaps  a  guinea.     Soon 

sisting,  as  himself  informs  us  in  after,  he  paid  a  second  visit  to  the 

one  of  his  pamphlets,  by  the  con-  same  person,  pretending  to  have 

tributions    of   the   well-disposed,  been  but  recently  informed  of  his 

.From  thence  he  went  to  Ireland,  uncommon  genius  and  his  zeal  to 

and  travelled  over  a  great  part  of  promote  the  interests  of  learning, 

that  kingdom  ;  and,  on  his  arrival  and  therefore  entreated  the  honour 


at  Dublin  in  1/CO,  was  entertain- 
ed by  some  gentlemen  in  Trinity 
College,  who,  compassionating  the 
melancholy  case  of  a  clergyman 
in   distress,    gave  him   his   board 


of  dedicating  his  work  to  him, 
which  was  to  be  done  at  the  ex- 
pense of  five  guineas  more.  Hav- 
ing obtained  this  permission,  and 
the  cash,  his  dernier  resort  was  to 


and  lodging  gratis.  After  he  had  call  on  his  patron  a  third  time,  re- 
stayed  in  Ireland  a  few  months,  presenting  the  necessity  of  prefix- 
and.  published  some  very  original  ing  a  copper-plate  with  his  arms 
pieces,  which  no  one  could  under-  to  the  intended  dedication  :  for  this 
stand  but  himself,  he  returned  to  piece  of  service  his  usual  tax  was 
England,  visited  Oxford,  and  then  ten  additional  guineas.     By  such 


came  again  to  London.  He  after- 
wards proposed  to  go  to  America 
as  soon  as  his  finances  would  en- 
able  him}    but    this,  voyage,  we 


contrivances  he  was  known  to  have 
picked  up  no  inconsiderable  sums; 
especially  as  he  practised  the  same 
stratagem  on  many  people,  with- 


helieve,  he  never  made.   His  death    out  the  least  design  of  inscribing 


c  o  o 

a  work  to  any  of  them,  or  even 
publishing  the  piece  advertised  in 
his  proposals. 

Cooke,  Edward.  Of  this  gen- 
tleman Langbaine,  &c.  make  no 
further  mention  than  that  he  wrote 
in  King  Charles  11.  s  time,  and 
was  author  of  one  dramatic  piece, 
viz. 

Love's  Triumph.  T.  4to.  16/S. 
Coxeter,  in  his  MS.  takes  notice 
of  a  translation  of  Le  Grand's  Di- 
vine Epicurus,  or  The  Empire  of 
Pleasure  over  the  Virtues,  by  one 
Edward  Cooke  ;  from  the  date  of 
which,  being  published  in  10/6, 
it  is  probably  the  work  of  this  au- 
thor. 

Cooke,   Thomas.     This   gen- 
tleman was  born  at  Braiutree  in 
Essex,  in  or  about  the  year  1/02, 
and  educated  at  Felsted  school  in 
the  same  county.     He  was  early 
thrown  upon  the  world,  and  be- 
came an  author  almost  as  soon  as 
he  was  of  age.     In  1J26  he  gave 
the  world  an  edition  of  the  works 
of   the  famous   Andrew    Marvel, 
prefixed  to  which  is  a  life  of  the 
author.     This  work  he  dedicated 
to  the  Earl   of  Pembroke,  who, 
being   much   delighted   with    the 
learning  and  abilities  of  so  young 
a  writer,  became  a  very  warm  pa- 
tron to  him,  and  even  wrote  seve- 
ral of  the  notes  to  his  translation 
of  Hesiod,  which  he  published  in 
1728.     Besides  these,  Mr.  Cooke 
has  obliged  the  public  with  a  trans- 
lation of  Cicero  de  Naturu  Deorum, 
and  of  the  comedies  of  Terence, 
and  prepared  an  edition  and  trans- 
lation   of    Plautus,     the   Amphy- 
trion  only  of  which  he  published. 
His  reputation  and  merit,  there- 
fore, as  a  classical  writer  are  ap- 
parently great;  which  is  more  than 
we  can   venture  to   say   of  him 
as  a  dramatic  author :    yet  as  he 
launched  into  that  path,  we  can- 


147 

COO 

not  refuse  his  pieces  a  place  here*, 
though  they  met  with  no  success 
at  the  time  they  appeared.  Their 
titles  are  as  follow  : 

1.  Albion.     M.     8vo.  1/24. 

2.  The  Battle  of  the  Poets.  F. 
Svo.  1731. 

3.  The  Triumphs  of  Love  and 
Honour.     P.     Svo.  1731. 

4.  The  Eunuch.  F.  Svo.  [1 737.] 

5.  The  Mournful  Nuptials.  T. 
Svo.  1739.  Afterwards  altered, 
and  called, 

6.  Love  the  Cause  and  Cure  of 
Grief.     T.     Svo.  1744. 

7-  Amphytrion.  Translated  from 
Plautus.   i2mo.l746;  12mo.l754. 

8.  Gcrmanicus.    T.  still  in  MS. 
He  also  translated  Terence,  in 

3  vols.  1734;  2  vols.  1748. 

He  was  likewise  concerned  with 
Mr.  Mottley  in  writing, 

9.  Penelope.  Dram.  Op.  Svo. 
1728. 

of  which  see  more  particularly  in 
its  proper  place,  in  the  other  part 
of  this  work.  He  died  the  29th 
of  December  175d,  at  Lambeth, 
where  he  had  long  resided. 

Cooke,  William.  This  gen- 
tleman, who  is  still  living,  is  de- 
scended from  an  ancient  and  re- 
spectable family,  who  resided  in 
the  city  and  county  of  Chester  for 
many  generations.  He  was  born, 
however,  at  Cork,  in  Ireland,  and 
was  first  educated  in  a  grammar- 
school  in  that  city,  and  afterwards 
under  a  private  tutor.  He  was 
intended  to  follow  the  business  of 
his  maternal  grandfather,  a  manu- 
facturer and  exporter  of  woollen 
yarns  5  but  before  he  had  reached 
the  age  of  nineteen,  he  married  a 
lady  of  considerable  fortune,  on 
which  he  might  have  lived  in  ease 
and  affluence ;  but  entering  too 
much  into  the  expensive  pleasures 
of  life,  and  being  concerned  in  a 
business  which  he  did  not  under* 
1.2 


MS 


COO 

stand,  and  had  never  liked,  he 
considerably  reduced  his  capital. 
His  wife  died  about  two  or  three 
years  after  their  marriage ;  aud  a 


COR 

present  lady,  whom  we  must  rank 
among  the  female  geniuses  of  this 
kingdom, we  can  trace  nothingfur- 
ther  than  that  she  was  the  widow 


jen-.e  of  this  loss,  and  reflection    of  one  Mr.  Cooper,  an  auctioneer; 
on  his  imprudence,  excited  in  his    that  she  was  the  editor  of  a  work. 


mind  a  firm  determination  to 
abridge  his  expenses,  and  endea- 
vour to  obtain  some  rational  inde- 
pendent maintenance  through  life. 
Leaving,  therefore,  a  part  of  his 
property,  of  which,  luckily,  it  was 
not  in  his  power  to  dispose,  at 
nurse,  as  it  is  called,  in  Ireland,  he 
hastened  to  London,  and  entered 
himself  as  a  student  of  the  Middle 
Temple. 

Mr.  Cooke  was  called  to  the 
bar  about  the  year  1//6,  and  went 
the  home  circuit  for  about  two 
years  j  but  having,  some  time  be- 
fore that  period,  married  a  sister 
of  the  late  Major  Galway  (who 
died  commander  of  Trilchinopoly), 
and  having  a  family  by  this  lady, 


called    The  Muse's  Library,  and 
author  of  two  plays,  entitled, 

1.  Rival  Widows.  C.  Svo.  1/35. 

2.  The  Nobleman.  C.  1 736.  N.P. 

Corey,  John.  All  that  is  re- 
corded of  this  gentleman  is,  that 
he  lived  inKing  Charles  II. 's  reign, 
and  sent  forth  into  the  world  a 
dramatic  piece,  which  is  entirely  a 
compilement,  or  rather  plagiarism, 
from  other  authors.  The  title  of 
it  is, 

The  Generous  Enemies.  C.  4to. 
16/2. 

Cokey,  John.  This  gentle- 
man has  been,  by  some  of  the 
writers,  confounded  with  the  last- 
mentioned  one  ;  but  is  indeed 
quite  another  person,  having  flou- 


he  thought  it  too  hazardous  to  de-    rished  in  Queen  Anne's  and  King 


pend  entirely  on  the  slow  progress 
of  the  bar,  and  therefore  employed 
his  leisure  hours  in  the  pursuits 
cf  political  literature.  With  this 
view  he  attached  himself  .to  the 
Rockingham  party,  and  wrote 
many  pamphlets  in  support  of  their 
principles  and   measures,    during 


George  I.'s  reigns.  He  was  de- 
scended from  an  ancient  family  in 
Cornwall,  but  was  himself  born  at 
Barnstaple,  in  Devonshire.  He  was 
intended  for  the  study  of  the  law, 
and  to  that  purpose  was  entered 
of  New  Inn ;  but  having  a  thea- 
trical   turn,    and    preferring    the 


the  American  war.  The  chief  of  oratory  of  the  stage  to  that  of  the 
his  other  works  are,  Elements  of  bar,  he  did  not  long  continue 
Dramatic  Criticism ;    The  Art  of   there   before    he    turned    player, 


Living  in  London,  a  poem  ;  Me- 
moirs of  Hildebr and  Freeman,  Esq.; 
A  Brief  Review  of  Parliamentary 
Reformation;  Conversation,  a.  di- 
dactic poem  ;  Memoirs  of  Charles 
Macklin;  and  Memoirs  of  Samuel 


which  profession  he  followed  for 
twenty  years,  to  the  time  of  his 
death,  which  happened  about  1/21, 
Yet  it  is  probable  he  might  have 
made  a  more  conspicuous  figure 
in  the  walk  of  his  first  destination  j 


Foote.     Beside  which,  he  altered    for  though  he  was  acknowledged 
The  Scornful  Lady,  of  Beaumont    to  be  a  just  and  sensible  speaker, 


and   Fletcher,    which    was  acted 
and  published  under  the  title  of 

The    Capricious    Lady.      Com. 
Svo.  1783. 
,    Cocker,  Elizabeth.    Of  the 


yet  being  but  low  in  stature,  and 
his  voice  none  of  the  best,  he  was 
ever  obliged  to  work  against  the 
stream,  and  labour  with  difficulties 
which  prevented  his  being  held  in 


149 


COT 

afty  very  high  estimation,  in  a  pro- 
fession, which,  of  all  others,  re- 
quires the  greatest  number  of  per- 
fections, and  to  arrive  at  excellence 
in  which  a  person  ought  not  to 
be  deficient  in  any  one  advantage 
that  either  nature  or  art  can  be- 
stow. He  brought  two  dramatic 
pieces  on  the  stage,  whose  titles 
are  as  follow  : 

1.  A  Cure  for  Jealousy.  C.  4to. 
1/01. 

2.  The  Metamorphosis.   F.  4to. 

i;o4. 

Cornbury,  Lord  Viscount. 
See  Hyde. 

Cornelys,  Mrs.  a  performer 
belonging  to  the  Theatre  in  Crow 
Street,  Dublin,"  who  produced  one 
play,  acted  at  her  own  benefit, 
March  14,   1/81,  called 

The  Deceptions.     C. 

Cotton,  Charles.  This  gen- 
tleman was  the  son  of  Charles 
Cotton,  of  Beresford,  in  Stafford- 
shire, and  was  born  on  the  28th 
of  April  1630.  He  received  his 
education  at  Cambridge,  and  af- 
terwards travelled  into  France  and 
other  foreign  countries.  He  was 
twice  married,  and  by  his  first 
wife  left  several  children.  The 
place  of  his  residence,  during  the 
greater  part  of  his  life,  was  at  the 


COT 

merit  as  a  burlesque  writer ;  in 
which  light  he  is' so  considerable  as 
to  stand  almost  in  competition  with 
the  excellent  author  of  Hudibras 
himself.  His  most  celebrated  poem 
of  this  kind  is  his  Scarronides  ;  or, 
Travestic  of  the  First  and  Fourth 
Books  of  the  vEneid.  But  although, 
from  the  title,  one  would  be  apt  to 
imagine  it  an  imitation  of  Scar- 
ron's  furious  Traveslie  of  the  same 
author,  yet,  on  an  examination, 
it  will  be  found  greatly  to  excel 
not  only  that,  but  every  attempt 
of  that  kind  hitherto  made  in  any 
language.  He  has  also  translated 
several  of  Lucian's  dialogues  in  the 
same  manner,  under  the  title  of 
The  Scoffer  scoffed;  and  written 
another  poem  of  a  more  serious 
kind,  called  The  Woriders  of  the 
Peak.  It  is  not  known  what  his 
circumstances  were  with  respect  to 
fortune  ;  they  appear,  however,  to 
have  been  easy,  if  one  may  form 
any  judgment  from  the  turn  of  his 
writings,  which  seems  to  be  such 
as  it  is  scarcely  possible  any  one 
could  indulge  in,  whose  mind  was 
not  perfectly  at  ease.  Yet  there  is 
one  anecdote  in  relation  to  him, 
which  wecannot  avoid  relating,  and 
which  seems  to  show  that  his  vein 
of  humour  could  not  restrain  itself 


family  seat  at  Beresford.    He  died    on  any  consideration,  viz.  that  in 
in  the  parish  of  St.  James's,  West-     consequence  of  a  single  couplet  in 


minster,  in  1687,  having  written 
one  dramatic  piece,  or  rather 
translated  it  from  the  French  of 
Corneilie,  for  the  use  of  his  sister, 
Mrs.  Stanhope  Hutchinson  ;  to 
whom,  when  it  was  published, 
which  was  not  till  many  years  after 
the  writing  of  it,  he  thought  pro- 
per to  dedicate  it.     It  is  entitled 

Horace.     T.  4to.    1671. 
But   though,    on  account   of  this 
piece,  we  have  a  right  to  mention 
him  as  a  dramatic  writer,  yet  his 
■frnncipal  fame  was  founded  on  his 


his  Virgil  travestie,  wherein  he  has 
made  mention  of  a  peculiar  kind 
of  ruff,  worn  by  a  grandmother  of 
his,  who  lived  in  the  Peak,  he  lost 
an  estate  of  four  hundred  pounds 
per  annum  ;  the  old  lady,  whose 
humour  and  testy  disposition  he 
could  by  no  means  have  been  a 
stranger  to,  never  being  able  to 
forgive  the  liberty  he  had  taken 
with  her,  and  having  her  fortune 
wholly  at  her  own  disposal,  al- 
though she  had  before  made  him 
her  sole  heir,  altered  her  will,  and 
l  3 


150 

COW  cow 

gave  it  all  away  to   an  absolute  g; eat  eagerness,  as  it  appears  that 

stranger. — If  there  be  any  truth  in  the  rrnjor  part  of  his  poems  were 

this  story   (which  the  authors  of  written  before  he  left  the  univer- 

the  Bing.  Brit,  seem  to  doubt),  sities.    He  had  taken  his  degree  of 
the  lines  alluded  to  must  be  the 
following : 

"  And  then  there  is  a  fair  great  ruff, 
**.  Made  of  a  pure  and  costly  stuff, 
"  To  wear  about  her  Highness'  neclc, 
"  Like  Miss  Coeaney's,  in  the  Peak." 

VlRC.lt-  TltAVl  stil,  b.  iv. 

Mr.  Cotton  also  favoured  the 
world  with  a  translation,  in  3  vols. 
Svo.  of  Montaigne's  Essays. 

Cowley,  Abraham.    This  ex- 


master  of  arts  before  1043,  when, 
in  consequence  of  the  turbulent 
times,  he,  among  many  others,  was 
ejected  from  the  college  ;  whereon 
retiring  to  Oxford,  he  entered 
himself  of  St.  John's  College,  and 
that  very  year,  under  the  denomi- 
nation of  a  Scholar  of  Oxford,  pub- 
lished a  satire,  called  The  Puritan 
and  the  Papist.  It  isapparent,  how- 
ever,  that  he  did  not  remain  very 


cellent  poet  was  the  son  of  a  grocer  long  at  Oxford ;  for  his  zeal  to  the 

near  the  end  of  Chancery  Lane,  royal  cause  engaging  him  in  the 

in  Fleet  Street,  London,  at  which  service  of  the  King,  who  was  very 

place  our  author  was  born,  in  the  sensible   of  his    abilities,  and   by 

year  1(518.     His  mother,  through  whom  he  was  frequently  employed, 

the  interest  of  some  friends,  pro-  he  attended  His  Majesty  in  many 

cured  him  to  be  admitted  a  king's  of  his  journies  and   expeditions, 

scholar    in    Westminster    school,  and  gained  not  only  that  prince's 

where  his  inclination  and  genius  esteem,  but  the  regard  of  many 

for  poetry  showed  itself  very  early ;  other  great  personages,  and  in  par- 

for  Langbaine,  Jacob,  Gildon,  and  ticular  of  Lord  Falkland,  one  of 

all  the  other  writers  say,  that  he  the  principal  secretaries  of  state, 

wrote    The    Tragical    History    of  During   the    heat    of  the    civil 

Pyravuis  and  Thishe,  at  ten  years  war  he  was  settled  in   the  Earl  of 

old;  at  twelve,  that  of  Conslantia.  St.  Albans'  family  ;   and  when  the 

At  fifteen, hepublished  a  collection  Queen-mother  was  obliged  to  re- 

of  poems,  under  the  title  of  Poetical  tire  into  France,  he  accompanied 

Blossoms.     One   thing  extremely  her  thither,   laboured  strenuously 

remarkable  in  him  was,  that,  with  in  the  affairs  of  the  royal  family, 

so  extraordinary  a  natural  genius,  , undertook  several  very  dangerous 

his  teachers  could  never  bring  him  journies  on  their  account,  and  was 

to  retain  even  the  common  rules  the  principal  instrument  in  main- 

of  grammar.     So  that,  had  he  not  tabling  an   epistolary  correspend- 

formed    the     most    intimate    ac-  ence  between  the  King  and  Queen, 

quaintance  with  the  books  them-  In  the  year  lt)5d,  it  was  judged 

selves  from  which  those  rules  are  proper   that   Mr.    Cowley   should 

drawn,  he  could  never  have  been  come  over  to  England;  atid,undep 

master  of  them.    In  1(53(5,  he  was  pretence,  of  privacy  and  retirement, 

elected  a  scholar  of  Trinity  Col-  give  notice  of  the  situation  of  af- 

leo-e,  Cambridge,  and  removed  to  fairs  in  this  kingdom,    to  those  by 

that   university.      Here    he    went  whom   he   was  employed.     Soon 

through  all   his  exercises   with  a  after  his  arrival,  however,  he  was 

remarkable  degree  of  reputation,  seized,  in  the  search  after  another 

and  at  the  same  time  must  have  gentleman  of  considerable  note  in 

pursued   his    poetical    turn   with  the  King's  party 5   but  although  if 


cow 

was  through  mistake  that  he  was 
taken,  yet,  when  the  republicans 
found  all  their  attempts  of  every 
kind  to  bring  him  over  to  their 
cause  proved  ineffectual,  he  was 
committed  to  a  severe  confine- 
ment, and  it  was  even  with  con- 
siderable difficulty  that  he  obtained 
his  liberty,  when,  venturing  back 
to  France,  he  remained  there,  in 
his  former  situation,  till  near  the 
time  of  the  King's  return. 

Soon  after  the  Restoration,  he 
became  possessed  of  a  very  compe- 
tent estate,  through  the  favour  of 
his  principal  friends  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  and  the  Earl  of  St. 
Albans  ;  and  being  now  upwards 
of  forty  years  of  age,  he  took  up 
a  resolution  to  pass  the  remainder 
of  a  life,  which  had  been  a  scene 
of  tempest  and   tumult,   in   that 
situation  which  had  ever  been  the 
object  of  his  wishes,  a  studious  re- 
tirement.    His   eagerness   to   get 
out  of  the  bustle  of  a  court  and 
city,  made  him  less  careful  than 
he  might  have  been  in  the  choice 
of  a   healthful  habitation  in   the 
country,  by  which  means  he  found 
his  solitude,  from  the  very  begin- 
ning, suit  less  with  the  constitution 
of  his  body  than  with   his   mind. 
His  first  rural  residence   was   at 
Barn  Elms,  a  place  which  lying 
low,  and  being  near  a  large  river, 
was  subject  to  variety  of  breezes 
from  land  and  water,  and  liable,  in 
the  winter-time,  to  great  inconve- 
nieuce  from  the  dampness  of  the 
soil.     The    consequences   of  this 
Mr.  Cowley  too  soon  experienced, 
by  being  seized  with  a  dangerous 
and  lingering  fever.     On  his  re- 
covery from   this  he  removed  to 
Chertsey,    a    situation    not  much 
more  healthful,  where  he  had  not 
Jong  been  before  he  was  seized 
with  another  consuming  disease. 
Having  languished  under  this  for 


151 

COW 

some  months,  he  at  length  got  the 
better  of  it,  and  seemed  pretty  well 
recovered  from  its  bad  symptoms; 
when  one  day,  in  the  heat  of  sum- 
mer of  1667*  staying  too  long  in 
the  fields,  to  give  some  directions 
to  his  labourers,  he  caught  a  most 
violent  cold,  which  was  attended 
with  a  defluxion  and  stoppage  in 
his  breast,  which,  for  want  of  time- 
ly care,  by  treating  it  as  a  com- 
mon cold,  and  refusing  advice  till 
it  was  past,  remedy,  took  him  off 
the  stage  of  life,  on  the  2Sth  of 
July  in  that  year,  being  the  4t)th 
of  his  age ;  and,  on  the  3d  ot 
August  following,  he  was  interred 
in  Westminster  Abbey,  near  the 
ashes  of  Chaucer,  and  his  beloved 
Spenser. 

Dr.  Warton  informs  us,  that 
toward  the  latter  part  of  his  life, 
he  showed  an  aversion  to  the 
company  of  women,  but  still  re- 
tained a  sincere  affection  for  his 
Leonora. — Dr.  Johnson,  in  his 
life  of  Cowley,  supposes  him  to 
be  only  an  ideal  lover,  and  conse- 
quently as  fond  of  his  mistress,  as 
Don  Quixote  of  his  Dulcinea, 
whom  he  had  never  seen. 

His  death  has  been  by  some  at- 
tributed to  the  following  accident: 
"  He  paid  a  visit,  on  foot,  with 
"  his  friend  Sprat  (say  they),  to  a 
"  gentleman  in  the  neighbourhood 
"  of  Chertsey,  which  visit  they 
"  prolonged  till  midnight.  Oa 
"  their  return,  they  mistook  their 
"  way,  and  were  obliged  to  pass 
"  the  whole  night  under  a  hedge, 
"  where  Cowley  caught  a  severe 
"  cold,  attended  with  a  fever, 
"  which  terminated  in  his  death." 

Mr.  Cowley,  as  a  writer,  had 
perhaps  as  much  fire  and  imagi- 
nation as  any  author  of  the  Eng- 
lish nation  ;  his  wit  is  genuine  and 
natural ;  but  then  his  versification 
is  frequently  irregular,  rough,  and 
1.  4 


152 

COW  CO  w- 

incorrect;  and  the  redundancy  of  devout  and  pious  in  his  religion,  a 
his  fancy  outrunning  the  power  social  companion,  and  a  sincere 
of  his  expression,  this  latter  ap-  friend.  Or,  to  sum  up  his  cha- 
pears  sometimes  puerile,  and  even  racter  in  a  few  words,  we  need  only 
flat  and  insipid.  Yet  these  faults  repeat  the  remark  of  his  master 
are  certainly  excusable,  when  we  King  Charles  II.  who,  on  the 
consider  at  how  early  a  time  of  news  of  his  death,  declared  that 
life  almost  all  his  pieces  were  writ-  "  Mr.  Cowley  had  not  left  a  better 
ten.  Had  he  lived  in  a  less  per:  "  man  behind  him  in  England.'* 
plexed  period  of  our  history,  or  It  is  moreover  one  of  the  peculiar 
been  himself  less  principally  con-  advantages  of  exalted  virtue,  that 
cerned  in  the  transactions  of  the    even  bad  men  reverence  it,  and 

are  pleased  to  draw  some  honour 
to  themselves  by  paying  tribute 
to  it.  A  monument  therefore  was 
erected,  to  the  memory  of  Cowley, 
by  George  Villiers,  Duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, in  1675.  His  dramatic 
works,  which  however  are  those  of 
all  his  writings  the  least  esteemed, 
are  four  in  number;  their  titles  are 
as  follow : 

1 .  Love's  Riddle.  Past.  C.  12mo. 
1638. 

2.  Naufragium     Jocular e.      C. 
12mo.   1638. 

3.  Guardian.     C.  4to.   1650. 

4.  Cutter  of  Coleman  Street.  C. 
4to.   1663. 

Cowley,  Mrs.  Hanxah,  was 
the  daughter  of  a  Mr.  Parkhouse, 
of  Tiverton,  Devonshire,  where 
she  was  born  about  the  year  1743. 
Her  genius  may  seem  to  have  been 
hereditary  ;  her  grandmother  by 
the  father's  side  having  been  first 
cousin  to  the  celebrated  poet  Gay; 
by  whom  she  was  held  in  such 
high  estimation,  that  he  passed  a 
considerable  portion  of  his  time  at 
her  bouse  in  Barnstaple.  Mr. 
Parkhurst  himself  had  attained  a 
proficiency  in  classical  literature, 
which  gained  him  the  reputation 
of  being  an  excellent  scholar. 
Under  such  a  tutor  were  the  ta- 
lents of  our  fair  writer  cultivated  ; 
and  she  presented  him,  in  return, 


period  he  did  live  in,  we  perhaps 

might  have  met  with  greater- plea- 
sure from  those  writings  which  he 

might  have  produced  at  a  more 

advanced  age,  when  the  judgment, 

being  arrived  at  greater  maturity, 

could    have   held    a    tighter    rein 

over  the  rapid  and  unruly  coursers 

of  imagination.     It  is  evident  that 

fancy  was  his  principal  directress, 

and,  by  a  kind  of  sympathy  with 

writers  of  the  same  disposition,  he 

became  involuntarily  a  poet.     He 

tells  us  himself,  that  his  admira- 
tion of  Spenser,  whom  he  had  read 

over  before  he  was  twelve  years 

old,  first  inspired  him  with  an  in- 
clination   for    poetry  ;    and  what 

writer  has  imagination  equal  to 
Spenser?  and  we  are  also  told,  that 
his  accidentally  meeting  with  the 
works  of  Pindar,  the  most  exalted 
genius  for  the  flights  of  fancy 
among  the  ancients,  led  him  into 
that  Pindaric  way  of  writing,  in 
which,  however  faulty  he  may 
sometimes  be  in  respect  to  num- 
bers, he  has  never  yet  been  excel- 
led in  the  force  of  his  figures,  and 
the  sublimity  of  his  style  and  sen-? 
timents. 

As  a  man,  in  his  public  rapa- 
city he  was  active  and  discerning, 
of  the  strictest  integrity,  and  most 
unshaken  loyalty.  In  his  private 
life  he  was  easy  of  access,  gentle, 

polite,  and  modest,  generous  in  his    with  the  first  fruits  of  her  Muse, 
disposition.,  temperate  in  his  life,    by  prefixing  his  name  to  the  poem 


153 


c  o  w 

■of  27a'  Maid  of  Arragon,  in  a  de- 
dication,   which  evinced  at  once 
iilia4  gratitude  and  youthful  genius. 
About  the  year  177-1,  she  was 
married  to  Mr.  Cowley,  who  died 
in  India,  about  twelve  years  ago, 
a  captain  in  the  Company's  service, 
and   brother  to  Mr.  Cowley,    an 
eminent    merchant    in    Cateaion 
Street ;  by  whom   she  had  three 
children,  a  son  and  two  daughters. 
In    the    different     characters    of 
daughter,  v  iie,  and  mother,  Mrs. 
Cowley's   conduct   was   most  ex- 
emplary.   Her  manners  w:ere  live- 
ly and  unassuming,  and  her  coun- 
tenance   was   peculiarly  animated 
and    expressive.      Though  public 
as  a  genius,  yet  private  as  a  wo- 
man, she  wore  her  laurels  grace- 
fully veiled :  at  the  theatres,  except 
to  oblige  others  by  accompanying 
them,  she  was  never  seen  j  fre- 
quently,  for  years  together,    she 
was  not  there  at  all.     Her  drama- 
tic pieces  were  brought  out  under 
the  superintendance  of  her  hus- 
band ;  except,  we  believe,  the  last 
two  j  he  having  then   joined  his 
regiment  in  India.     In  her  writ- 
ings, nothing   was   laboured ;    all 
was  spontaneous  effusion :  she  had 
nothing  of  the  drudge  of  litera- 
ture ;  and  fame  was  not  half  so 
much  her  object  as  the  pleasure  of 
composition.  When  her  fancy  had 
prompted  her  to  the  amusement 
of  dramatic  writing,  so  little  san- 
guine was  she  in  her  expectation 
that  her  comedy  would  be  accept- 
ed by  Mr.  Garrick,  to  whom  it 
was  sent,   that    it   was   not  until 
about  twelve  months  afterwards, 
that  he    was  informed  who  had 
sent  it  to  him,  or  was  asked  what 
his    opinion    was.      The   comedy 
alluded  to   >.vas   7  he  Runaway  ;   it 
was  written  in  a  fortnight,  and  its 
remarkable  success  many  will  re- 
collect.   It  was  followed  by  IVho's 


c  o  w 

the  Dupe,  and  The  Belle's  Strata- 
gem.    The  latter,  on  the  express 
permission  of  the  Queen,  was  de- 
dicated to  her,  and  was  performed 
before  the  royal  family  once  every 
season,   as  long  as   they  attended 
the    theatres.      However  anxious 
Mrs.  Cowley  might  beat  the  mo- 
ment of  writing,  her  work  was 
no  sooner  out,  than  she  became 
regardless  of  it.    It  was  to  domes- 
tie   life,    as   we  have  before   ob- 
served, that  her  mind  was  given ; 
fame  appeared  to   be    not  rat   all 
essential  to  her  happiness.      The 
Siege  of  Acre   would  never  have 
appeared,   had  it  not  been  heard 
of,  asked  for,  and  made  a  present 
of  to  a  respectable  bookseller,  who 
was  a   stranger  to  her.      In  the 
course  of  the  last  ten  years  of  her 
life  she  wrote  a  few  slight  poems, 
in  friendship, with  the  families  of 
l.ady  Carew,  Lady  Duntze,  Mrs. 
Wood,    and   other  ladies  in   her 
neighbourhood,    which    probably 
are  yet  extant.    In  herlatt  >r  ye^rs* 
on  account  of  her  dislike  of  cards, 
and  the  dress  and  trouble  of  even- 
ing amusements,  she  declined  all 
invitations  j  but  received  very  large 
parties    at  her  own  house.     She 
established  a   singular  custom,  of 
throwing    open    her   house,    one 
morning   in    a   week,    for   ladies 
only,  and  was  on  those  occasions 
attended  by  a  crowd. 

Mrs.  Cowley  looked  forward  to 
the  close  of  her  life,  with  a  pecu- 
liar degree  of  religious  cheerful- 
ness, and  expired  at  Tiverton, 
March  11,  1809,  in  her  66th 
year ;  leaving  behind  her  a  son, 
now  at  the  bar;  and  a  daughter, 
married  in  India  to  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Brown,  provost  of  the  College  of 
Calcutta. 

Besides  the  poems  of  The  Maid 
of  Arragon,  and  The  Siege  of  Acre, 
which  we  have  incidentally  men- 


154 


COX 

tioned,  this  lady  produced  a  third, 
excellent  in  its  kind,  called  The 
Scottish  Village, 

The  last  time  her  pen  was  thus 
employed,  was  on  a  slight  poem, 
given  to  a  poor  sexton  of  the  pa- 
rish, who  was  distressed  by  the 
loss  of  his  property,  in  the  then 
late  floods,  and  which  was  re- 
stored to  him  by  the  douceurs  of 
those  to  whom  he  showed  the 
poem  for  perusal. 

To  the  above  we  should  add, 
that  Mrs.  Cowley  was  the  "  Anna 
I*  Matilda,"  who  so  long  main- 
tained a  celebrated  poetical  news- 
paper correspondence  with  "  Delia 
"  Crusca"  (the  late  Mr.  Merry)  ; 
though  the  parties  were,  personal- 
ly, total  strangers  to  each  other. 

We  now  subjoin  a  list  or"  the 
dramas  produced  by  this  elegant 
writer : 

1.  The  Runaway.  C.  Svo.  1776. 

2.  Who's  the  Dupe:'    F.  Svo. 

1779- 
%  Albina.     T.  Svo.    1/79. 

4.  The  Belle's  Stratagem.  C. 
1780 ;   Svo.   1/82. 

5.  The  School  for  Eloquence,  I. 

1780.  N.  P. 

6.  The  World  as  it  Goes.  C. 
\/81.  N.  P.  Afterwards  acted 
under  the  new  title  of 

7.  Second  Thoughts  are  Best.  C. 

1781.  N.  P. 

8.  Which  is  the  Man?  C.  Svo. 
1782. 

9.  A  Bold  Stroke  for  a  Husband. 
C.  8vo.   1783. 

10.  More  Ways  than  One.  C. 
Svo.  17S4. 

11.  School  for  Greybeards.  C. 
Svo.  1786. 

12.  Fateof  Sparta.  T.8vo.  17-88. 

13.  A  Day  in  Turkey.  C.  Svo. 
1792. 

14.  The  Town  before  You,  C. 
Svo.  1790. 

Cox,    Robert.     This  author, 


COX 


if  he  has  a  right  to  be  called  by 
that  title,  was  an  excellent  come- 
dian, who  lived  in  the  reign  of 
King  Charles  I.  But  when  the 
ringleaders  of  the  rebellion,  and 
the  pretended  refoimers  of  the  na- 
tion, among  other  acts  of  purita- 
nical zeal,  suppressed  the  repre- 
sentations of  the  theatre,  this  per- 
former was  compelled  for  a  liveli- 
hood to  betake  himself  to  the  mak- 
ing of  drolls  or  farces,  which  were 
in  general  nothing  more  than  se- 
lect scenes  of  humour  from  some 
of  the  plays  which  had  been  the 
greatest  favourites,  put  together 
without  any  order,  regularity,  or 
apparent  design.  These  drolls  he 
found  means  of  getting  licensed, 
or  rather  connived  at  by  the  legis- 
lature, and  performed  as  it  were 
by  stealth,  under  the  sanction  of 
rope-dancing,  at  the  Red-Bull  play- 
house, and  in  country  towns  at 
wakes  and  fairs.  A  large  collec- 
tion of  them  was  published  after 
the  Restoration,  by  Kirkman;  for 
some  account  of  which,  and  the 
plays  they  were  selected  from,  see 
the  third  volume  of  this  work, 
under  the  title  of  The  Wits ;  or, 
Sport  upon  Sport.  There  is  ano- 
ther collection,  published  as  a  se- 
cond part  to  the  former,  the  pieces 
in  which  are  supposed  by  Kirk- 
man  to  have  been  originally  writ- 
ten by  Cox,  and  which  consists  of 
the  following  interludes,  except- 
ing only  the  first,  which  is  known 
to  be  his,  viz. 

1.  Actceon  and  Diana,  with  the 
pastoral  Story  of  the  Nymph 
CEnone,&x.  4to.  N.D.;  Svo.  1606. 

1.  The  Black  Man. 

3.  Venus  and  Adonis  ;  or,  Tht 
Maid's  Philosophy.    Svo.   1609. 

4.  Philetus  and  Constantia. 

5.  King  Ahasuerus  and  Queen, 
Esther. 

6.  King  Solomon's  Wisdom, 


155 


C  R  A 

J.  Dipkilo  and  Granida. 
8.   Wiltshire  Tom. 
<).  CEhpne.     P. 

10.  Bottom  the  Weaver. 

11.  The  Cheater  cheated. 

The  last  ten  were  originally 
printed  in  4to.  without  date.  Also 
the  whole,  8vo.   l6/2. 

In  these  kinds  of  drolls  he  used 
to  perform  the  principal  parts 
himself,  and  that  so  well,  that  he 
was  a  great  favourite,  not  only  in 
the  country,  but  also  at  London, 
and  in  the  universities  themselves. 
And  Langbaine  relates  the  follow- 
ing humorous  anecdote  of  him 
(which  proves  him  to  have  been  a 
very  natural  performer),  that  once 
after  he  had  been  playing  the  part 
of  Simpleton,  the  smith,  in  his  own 
Actaon  and  Diana,  a  real  smith  of 
some  eminence  in  those  parts,  who 
saw  him  act,  came  to  him,  and 
offered  to  take  him  as  his  journey- 
man, and  even  to  allow  him 
twelve-pence  a  week  move  than 
the  customary  wages. 

Cradock,  Jo-eph.  An  au- 
thor still  living.  He  is  possessed 
of  a  considerable  fortune  in  the 
county  of  Leicester,  and  has  pro- 
duced one  play,  altered  from  Lcs 
Scythes  of  Voltaire,  and  called 

Zobeide.    T.  8vo.   1771. 
and  another,  entitled 

The  Czar.  Not  yet  acted,  nor 
printed. 

He  is  also  the  reputed  author  of 
A  Journey  to  Snowden,  and  Village 
Memoirs. 

Gkane,  Edward;  This  au- 
thor resided  at  Manchester,  where 
he  printed  a  Collection  of  Poetical 
Miscellanies,  in  8vo.  1/01  ;  in 
which,  amongst  other  pieces,  are 
two  tragedies,  viz. 

1.  The  Female  Parricide, 

2.  Saul  and  Jonathan. 
Cranke,   ,    a   teacher  of 

music,  who  died  April  7,   1783, 
was  author  of 


C  R  O 

The  True  Briton.  F.  17S2,  N.P. 

Craven.     See  Anspach. 

Craufurd,  David.  This  gen- 
tleman was  a  North  Briton,  of 
Dumfoy,  in  the  western  part  of 
Scotland,  and  was  historiographer 
for  that  kingdom  to  Queen  Anne. 
He  wrote  two  plays,  whose  lilies 
are  as  follow : 

1 .  Courtship  Alamode.  C.  4to. 
1700. 

2.  Love  at  first  Sight.  C.  4to. 
N.  D.   [1704.] 

The  first  of  these  pieces  he  left 
to  the  care  of  Mr.  Pinkethman,  the 
comedian,  to  publish  ;  his  affairs 
calling  him  into  his  own  country, 
just  as  it  was  about  to  be  acted. 

His  other  writings  are,  a  set  of 
love  epistles,  in  verse,  in  imitation 
of  Ovid,  and  entitled  Ovidius 
Britannicus,  being  an  intrigue  be- 
tween two  persons  of  quality ;  three 
novels,  in  one  volume  Svo.  and 
some  Memoirs  (if  the  Affairs  and 
Revolutions  of  Scotland. 

Crisp,  Henry.  This  author 
belonged  to  the  Custom-house, 
and  produced  one  play,  called 

Virginia.     T.  8vo.  J  754. 

Cross,  Richard,  wrote  one 
piece,  called 

The  Henpeck'd  Captain.  F.  1 749. 
N.  P. 

Cross,  James  C  was  formerly 
an  actor  at  Covent  Garden  and 
the  Haymarket  Theatres.  His 
first  wife  was  on  the  stage ;  and 
after  her  death  Mr.  Cross  married 
Miss  Jones,  daughter  of  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  Royal  Circus  (now 
called  the  Surrey  Theatre)  ;  by 
which  circumstance  he  became  a 
part  proprietor  of  that  house,  and 
acting  manager  j  and  thencefor- 
ward he  devoted  the  productions 
of  his  pen  chiefly,  of  course,  to 
that  concern.  His  first  dramatic 
essay  was  the  writing  of  dialogue 
for  the  apt  introduction  of  some 
of  the  most  favourite  of  Mr.  Dib- 


JJ'J 


CRO 

din's  songs  ;  which  entertainment 
was  performed  several  nights  at 
Covent  Garden  Theatre,  under  the 
title  of, 

1.  The  Divertisement.  -  M.  E. 
179O.  N.  P. 

The  other  specimens  of  this 
gentleman's  dramatic  talents  are  as 
follow  : 

2.  Humours  of  Brighton.  Sk. 
1792. 

3.  Purse.  M.  D.  Svo.  1704. 

4.  British  Fortitude  and  Hiber- 
nian Friendship.  M.D.  8vo.  179 ■!. 

5.  The  Apparition.  Mus.  Dr. 
Rom.  Svo.   1794. 

6.  The  Charity  Boy.  M.  E. 
1796-  N.P. 

7.  Village  Doctor.  Burl.  Svo. 
1796. 

8.  Way  to  get  Unmarried.  D.S. 
Svo.   1796. 

9.  Escape  into  Prison.    M.  E. 

1797. 

10.  Harlequin  and  Quixote.  Pant. 

1/97- 

11.  In  Love,  in  Debt,  and  in 
Liquor.   M.  Dr.  8vo.  1797. 

12.  Nymph  of  the  Fountain.   P. 

1/97 • 

13.  TAe  Genoese  Pirate.  Pant. 
1798.  N.  P. 

14.  Harlequin' s Return. V .  1798. 

15.  Joan  of  Arc.  Hist.Bal.  1798. 

16.  Raft.  M.  Int.  Svo.   1798. 

17.  Magic  Flute.    Pant.  1S00. 
IS.  The  Mine.  G.  S.  Svo.  1S00. 
ip.  Sir  Francis  Drake  and  Iron 

Ann.    Spect.  Svo.   1800. 

20.  King  Ccesar.  G.  S.  Svo. 
1801. 

21.  The  Eclipse.  Vant.  Svo.  l&Ol. 

22.  The  Fire  Kins*.  B,  8vo. 
1801. 

23.  Rinaldo  Rinaldini.  B.  Svo. 
fSOl. 

24.  The  Enchanted  Harp.  Pant. 
1S02.     Svo.  N.D. 

25.  The  Fatal  Prediction.  B. 
Svo,   1802. 


CRO 

20.  The  Golden  Farmer.  Pant. 
Svo.   1S02. 

27.  Gonsah'o  de  Cordova.  B. 
Svo.   1802. 

28.  Jubilee  of  1802.  G.D.  Svo. 
1802. 

29.  Corsican  Pirate.  Bal.  8vo. 
1803. 

30.  John  Bull  and  Buonaparte. 
B.  S.  Svo.    1803. 

31.  Louisa  of  Lomba/rdy.  G.  S. 
Svo.   1803. 

32.  Number  Nip.  T.  S.  Svo. 
1S03. 

33.  Our  Native  Land  and  Gal- 
lant Protectors.  Dr.  Svo.   1803, 

34.  Rival  Statues.  Pant.  Svo. 
1S03. 

35.  Jew  and  Gentile.  Burl. 
30.  Cylele.  Pant.   8vo.  1804. 
37-  Pedlefs  Acre.    Pant    Svo. 

1304. 

38.  Black  Beard.  B.  P.  12mo, 
I8O9. 

39.  The  Cloud  King.  M.  D. 
12mo.  I8O9. 

40.  Cora.     B.  P.   12mo.   lS09i 

41.  The  False  Friend.  M.  D. 
12mo.    I8O9. 

42.  Halloween.  S.  12 mo.  I8O9. 

43.  Julia  of  Louvain.  D.  S. 
12mo.   I8O9. 

44.  Round  Tower.  B.  P.  12mo. 
I8O9. 

Mr.  Cross  died,  we  believe, 
early  in  the  year  IS  10  ;  leaving  a 
widow,  to  whom  Mr.  Elliston  has 
given  a  situation  in  the  Surrey 
Theatre,  but  in  what  department 
we  are  not  informed.  Our  autho- 
rity for  stating  the  fact  is  the  fol- 
lowing notice  at  the  foot  of  a  play- 
bill, in  1810,  for  the  widow's 
benefit :  "  Mrs.  C.  would  be 
"  wanting  in  gratitude  did  she  not 
"  embrace  this  opportunity  of  re- 
"  turning  Mr.  Ellis  ton  her  sincere 
"  thanks  for  the  many  favours  she 
"  has  received  from  him  since  the 
"  decease   of   her   much- beloved 


.15/ 


CRO 

(i  and  affectionate  husband ;  and 
"  trusts  her  ardent  endeavours  to 
x<  give  satisfaction,  in  the  situation 
*'  he  has  been  so  kind  as  to  place 
"  her  in,  will  ensure  a  continuance 
"  of  his  esteem  and  patronage." 

Crowne,  John.  This  gen- 
tleman was  the  son  of  an  inde- 
pendent minister  in  that  part  of 
America  called  Nova  Scotia  ;  but 
whether  born  there  or  not,  is  un- 
certain. He  received  his  educa- 
tion, however,  in  that  climate,  the 
rigid  manners  of  which  not  alto- 
gether suiting  \vit)i  the  vivacity  of 
his  genius,  he  determined  to  quit 
that  country  and  seek  his  fortune 
in  England.  At  his  first  arrival 
riere,  his  necessities  compelled  him 
to  accept  of  an  office  still  more 
formal  and  disgusting  than  even  his 
situation  in  America.  This  was  no 
other  than  the  being  gentleman- 
usher  to  an  old  independent  lady 
of  quality.  Soon  weary  of  this 
disagreeable  drudgery,  he  had  re- 
course to  his  pen  for  support ; 
and  as  neither  the  preciseness  of 
his  education,  nor  the  distress  of 
his  circumstances,  could  suppress 
the  fire  of  his  genius,  his  writings, 
which  were  in  the  dramatic  way, 
soon  rendered  his  abilities  known 
to  the  town  and  court :  when,  as 
it  appears,  fortunately  for  him, 
the  Earl  of  Rochester,  whose  en- 
mity to  Dryden  made  him  readily 
snatch  at  any  opportunity  of  mor- 
tifying him,  prevailed  on  the 
Queen  to  lay  her  commands  on 
Crowne,  in  preference  to  that  poet, 
for  the  writing  of  a  masque,  to  be 
performed  at  court,  which  he  exe- 
cuted, under  the  title  of  Calisto. 

That  it  was  not  from  any  pecu- 
liar regard  to  our  author  himself, 
that  Lord  Rochester  urged  this 
nomination,  is  very  evident ;  for,  at 
no  greater  distance  than  two  years 
afterwards,    the  great  success  of 


G  R  O 

Mr.  Crowne's  two  tragedies  of  77*? 
Destruction  of  Jerusalem  excited 
the  envy  of  that  nobleman  so  far, 
as  to  make  him  as  severe  an  ene- 
my as  he  had  appeared  to  be  a 
warm  friend  to  him;  nay,  he  even 
endeavoured  to  do  him  prejudice 
at  court,  by  informing  the  King 
of  his  descent  and  education, 
which,  however,  His  M  sty  was 
so  far  from  paying  any  regard  to, 
that  he  even  treated  the  informer 
with  that  contempt  so  mean  an 
insinuation  justly  merited.  Mr. 
Crowne  was  now  highly  in  favour 
at  court,  and  particularly  with  the 
King,  as  indeed  any  one  might  be 
who  contributed  to  his  pleasures  j 
and  it  is  well  known  that  Charles 
II.  was  ever  peculiarly  fond  of 
theatrical  amusements.  The  fa- 
vours he  received  from  this  mo- 
narch, added  to  the  natural  gaiety 
of  his  temper,  induced  him  to  join 
with  the  Tory  party ;  in  conse- 
quence of  which  he  wrote  a  come- 
dy, called  The  City  Politique*,  in 
which  the  Whigs  were  severely  sa- 
tirized. When  written,  he  found 
much  difficulty  in  getting  it  re- 
presented; the  opposite  party,  and 
particularly  Lord  Arlington,  the 
lord  chamberlain,  who  was  secret- 
ly in  the  Whig  interest,  endea- 
vouring all  they  could  to  get  it 
suppressed.  At  last,  however,  by 
the  immediate  command  of  the 
King  himself,  itwas  brought  on  the 
stage ;  but,  though  even  the  con- 
trary party  acknowledged  it  to  be 
a  good  play,  it  created  Mr.  Crowne 
a  great  many  enemies;  which  cir- 
cumstance, added  to  the  preca- 
riousness  of  theatrical  emoluments, 
induced  him  to  apply  to  the  King 
for  some  post  that  might  secure 
him  from  distress  for  the  remain- 
der of  his  life.  This  His  Majesty 
readily  promised  him,  but  insisted 
on  our  author's  writing  one  co- 


133 


C  R  O 

medy  mere,  before  he  took  leave 
of  the  Muses  ;  and,  to  obviate  all 
objections,  which  he  made,  of  being 
at  a  loss  for  a  plot,  &c.  put  into 
his  hands,  by  way  of  a  ground- 
work, a  Spanish  play,  called  No 
puede  ser.  On  this  Mr.  Crowrje 
immediately  set  to  work;  and  al- 
though, when  he  had  advanced 
some  length  in  it,  he  found  that  it 
had  been  before  translated,  under 
the  title  of  Tarugos  Wiles,  by  Sir 
Thomas  St.  Serfe,  and  had  even 
been  condemned  in  the  representa- 
tion, yet  he  proceeded  in  his  plan, 
and  produced  his  very  excellent 
comedy  of  Sir  Courtly  Alee.  And 
now  he  seemed  to  be  at  the  very 
summit  of  his  hopes  of  being  gra- 
tified in  the  performance  of  the 
King's  premise  ;  when,  lo  !  in  an 
instant  an  unfortunate  accident  in- 
tervened to  dash  them  all  at  once, 
and  tumble  down  the  fabric  which 
he  had  been  rearing  !  This  was 
no  less  than  the  sudden  death  of 
the  King,  who  was  seized  with  an 
apoplectic  fit,  on  the  day  of  its  last 
rehearsal,  and  who,  though  he  did 
indeed  revive  from  it,  died  in  three 
days  afterwards,  leaving  our  un- 
fortunate bard  plunged  in  the  depth 
of  distress  and  disappointment. 

What  were  the  particular  occur- 
rences of  Mr.  Crowne's  life  after 
this  great  loss,  we  have  not  been 
able  to  trace  ;  but  it  is  most  pro- 
bable that  writing  for  the  stage  be- 
came his  sole  support ;  as  we  find, 
besides  the  play  on  which  his  ex- 
pectations were  thus  fixed,  and 
which  was  played  at  that  time 
with  great  success  (as  indeed  it 
has  ever  since  been  on  every  re- 
vival of  it),  that  he  wrote  six 
others,  the  last  of  which  made  its 
first  appearance  about  the  end  of 
the  seventeenth  century.  How  long 
he  lived  is  uncertain;  for  although 
Coxeter,  in  his  notes,  informs  us 


C  R  O 
that  he  was  living  in  1/03,  no 
writer  has  pretended  to  assign  the 
absolute  date  of  his  death.  It  is 
probable,  however,  that  he  did  not 
long  survive  that  period  ;  and  we 
are  told  by  Jacob,  that  he  was  bu- 
ried in  St.  Giles's  in  the  Fields. 

As  a  man,  he  seems  to  have 
possessed  many  amiable  and  social 
virtues,  mingled  with  great  viva- 
city and  easiness  of  disposition. 
A-  a  writer,  his  numerous  works 
bear  sufficient  testimony  of  his 
merit.  His  chief  excellence  lay 
in  comedy,  yet  his  tragedies  are 
far  from  contemptible.  His  plots 
are  for  the  most  part  his  own  in- 
vention; his  characters  are  in  ge- 
neral strongly  coloured  and  highly 
finished;  and  his  dialogue  lively 
and  spirited,  attentively  diversifi- 
ed, and  well  adapted  to  the  seve- 
ral speakers.  So  that  on  the  whole 
he  may  assuredly  be  allowed  to 
stand  at  least  in  the  third  rank  of 
our  dramatic  writers. 

The  pieces  he  has  left  behind 
him  are  seventeen  in  number,  be- 
sides one  not  printed ;  and  their 
names  are  as  follow  : 

1.  Juliana.  T.  C.  4to.   1671. 

2.  Charles  Vlllth  of  France. 
4to.    1072. 

3.  The  Country  Wit.  C.  4to. 
I675. 

4.  Andromache.  T.  4to.  1(375. 

5.  Calisto.  M.  4to.  1675. 

6.  City  Politiques.  C.  4to.  1675. 

7.  The  Destruction  of  Jerusalem. 
T.  Two  Parts.  4to.  16/7- 

8.  The  Ambitious  Statesman.  T. 
4to.  1O79. 

Q.  The  Misery  of  Civil  War.  T. 
4to.   16S0. 

10.  Henry  the  Sixth.  T.  Two 
Parts.  4to.  HiSl. 

11.  Thyestes.  T.  4to.  16SI. 

12.  Sir  Courtly  Nice.  C.  4tO. 
16S5. 

13.  Darius.    T.  4to.  I0S8. 


150 


CUM 

14.  The  English  Friar.   C.  4to. 
I69O. 

15.  Regulus.      T.  4to.   lOQA. 

16.  The  Married  Beau.  C.  4to. 
1 694. 

17.  Caligula.     T.  4 to.   lGcjS. 

1 8 .  Justice  Bu  ?y .     Com .  N .  P. 
Croxall,    Dr.  Samuel,    was 

the  son  of  Samuel  Croxall,  rector 
of  Hanworth,  in  Middlesex,  and 
vicar  of  Walton  upon  Thames,  in 
Surry  ;  in  the  last  of  which  places 
our  author  was  born.  He  received 
his  early  education  at  Eton  school, 
and  from  thence  was  admitted  to 
St.  John's  College,  Cambridge, 
after  which  he  entered  into  holy 
orders.  Having  a  strong  attach- 
ment to  the  Whig  interest,  he  em- 
ployed his  pen  in  favour  of  that 
party,  during  the  latter  end  of 
Queen  Anne's  reign.  After  he 
quitted  the  university,  he  was  in- 
stituted to  the  living  of  Hampton, 
in  Middlesex,  and  then  to  the 
united  parishes  of  St.  Mary  So- 
merset, and  St.  Mary  Mounthaw, 
in  the  city  of  London,  both  which 
he  held  to  his  death.  He  was  also 
chancellor,  prebendary,  canon  re- 
sidentiary, and  portionist,  of  the 
church  of  Hereford  ;  and,  in  the 
year  1732,  was  made  archdeacon 
of  Salop,  and  chaplain  in  ordinary 
to  the  King.  He  obtained  the 
living  of  Selleck,  in  Hereford- 
shire, in  February  1/34,  and  died, 
at  a  very  advanced  age,  the  13th 
of  February  1/52,  having  pub- 
lished (according  to  common  opi- 
nion) one  dramatic  performance, 
as  it  is  called,  viz. 

The  Fair  Circassian.  4to.  1720. 

Cullum,  Mrs.  A  lady  of  this 
name  was  author  of  one  piece, 
which  entitles  her  to  a  place  in  our 
pages,  viz. 

Charlotte.     P.  8vo.    17/5. 

Cumberland,  Richard,  is 
the  son  of  Dr.  Denison  Cumber- 


C  U  M 


land,  late  Bishop  of  Kilmore,  in  Ire- 
land, by  Joanna,  youngest  daugh- 
ter of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Bentley 
(a  lady  on  whom  the  well-known 
pastoral  of  Phebe,  by  Dr.  Byrom, 
printed  in  The  Spectator,  No.  603, 
was  written),  and  great-grandson 
of  Dr.  Richard  Cumberland,  Bishop 
of  Peterborough. 

He  was  born  February  1 9, 1 732, 
in  the  master's  lodge  of  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  under  the  roof 
of  his  grandfather  Bentley,  in  what 
is  called  the  Judge's  Chamber. 
When  turned  of  six  years  of  age,  he 
was  sent  to  the  school  of  Bury  St. 
Edmund's ;  whence  he  was  indue 
time  transplanted  to  Westminster. 
At  the  age  of  fourteen  Mr.  C. 
was  admitted  of  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge  ;  whence,  after  a  long 
and  assiduous  course  of  study,  he 
launched  into  the  great  world, 
and  became  a  private  confidential 
secretary  to  Lord  Halifax,  then  at 
the  head  of  the  Board  of  Trade  j 
which  situation  he  held  with  great 
credit  to  himself,  till  his  Lordship 
went  out  of  office. 

Soon  after  this,  he  obtained  the 
lay  fellowship  of  Trinity  College, 
vacant  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Titley* 
the  Danish  Envoy.  This  fellow- 
ship, however,  he  did  not  hold 
long ;  for,  on  obtaining,  through 
the  patronage  of  Lord  Halifax,  a 
small  establishment  as  crown  agent 
for  the  province  of  Nova  Scotia, 
he  married  Elizabeth,  only  daugh- 
ter of  George  Ridge,  Esq.  of  Kil- 
miston,  in  Hampshire,  in  whose 
family  he  had  long  been  intimate. 

When  Lord  Halifax  returned  to 
administration,  and  was  appointed 
Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  Mr. 
C.  went  with  him  to  that  country, 
as  under-secretary  ;  his  father,  as 
one  of  his  chaplains  ;  and  his  bro- 
ther-in-law, Capt.  William  Ridge, 
as  one  of  his  aides-du-camp.   . . 


CUM 

Before  Lord  Halifax  quitted  Ire- 
land to  become  Secretary  of  State, 
Mr.  Cumberland's  lather  had  been 
madeBisnop  of  Clonfert ;  and  Mr. 
Cumberland  himself  who  had  de- 
clined a  baronetcy  which  had  been 
offered  him  by  his  patron,  came 
to  England  with  his  Lordship,  and 
was  appointed,  we  believe,  to  the 
situation  of  assistant  secretary  to 
the  Board  of  Trade. 

About  the  en  I  of  the  year  1 7/1, 
the  Bishop  of  Clonfert  was  trans- 
lated to  Kilmore;  which  see,  how- 
ever, he  held  not  long,  being 
translated  by  death  to  a  better 
world  ;  to  which  he  was  followed 
by  his  lady  in  June  1/75. 

The  accession  of  Lord  George 
Germaine  to  the  seals  for  the  colo- 
nial department  promoted  Mr. 
Cumberland  from  a  subaltern  at 
the  Board  of  Trade  to  the  post  of 
secretary. 

In  the  year  l'SO  he  was  sent 
on  a  secret  and  confidential  mis- 
sion to  the  court  of  Spain;  and 
it  is  reported,  that  his  embassy 
would  have  been  successful,  but  for 
the  riots  in  Losdon,  and  the  cap- 
ture of  our  East  and  West  India 
fleets,  which  inspired  the  Spaniards 
with  more  confidence  than  they 
had  before  possessed.  In  this  mis- 
sion Mr.Cumberland  necessarily  in- 
curred great  expenses ;  and  he  was 
cruelly  neglected  by  ministers  after 
the  conclusion  of  his  negotiation. 
It  was,  however,  during  his  resi- 
dence in  that  country  that  he  col- 
lected the  Anecdotes  of  eminent 
Painters  in  Spain,  which  he  after- 
wards published. 

By  the  provisions  of  Mr.  Burke's 
well-known  bill,  the  Board  of 
Trade  was  annihilated,  and  Mr. 
Cumberland  was  set  adrift  with  a 
compensation  of  scarcely  a  moiety 
in  value  of  what  he  had  been  de- 
prived of.    He  now  retired,  with 


160 

CUM 

his  family,  to  Tunbridg'e  Wells, 
where  he  has  continued,  we  be- 
lieve, ever  since  to  reside,  uni- 
versally respected.  Of  his  dra- 
matic works  we  annex  what  we 
believe  to  be  a  correct  list  : 

1.  7Vie  Banishment   of    Cicero. 
T.     4to.  1761. 

2.  The  Summers    Tale.     Mus. 
C.     Svo.  l/d'5.      . 

3.  Amelia.     M.  E.     Svo.  1/68. 

4.  The  Brothers.  C.   Svo.  1769. 

5.  The  West  Indian.     C.     8vo. 

1771- 

6.  Amelia.    M.  E.  altered.  Svo, 
1//1. 

7.  Timon  of  Athens.   T.  altered. 
Svo.  1771. 

8.  The  Fashion  al  I  e  Lover.     C. 
Svo.  1772. 

9.  The  Note  of  Hand.    F.    8vo. 
177-I, 

10.  The  Choleric  Man.  C.  Svo. 
l%/5. 

11.  The  Batik  of  Hastings.    T. 
Svo.  1/78. 

12.  The  Princess  of  Parma.    T. 
1773.     N.  P. 

13.  Tlie  Election.     Ent.    1/78. 
N.  P. 

14.  Calypso.     M.     Svo.    1/79- 

15.  The  Bondman.  T.C.  altered. 
1770.     N.P. 

16.  The  Duke  of  Milan.     T.  al- 
tered.    1779.     N.P. 

1/.  The  Widow  of  Delphi.  Mus. 
C.    Songs  only  printed,  Svo.  I78O. 

18.  The  Walloons.     C.     1782. 
N.P. 

19.  Mysterious  Husland.    Play. 
6vo.  1783. 

20.  The    Carmelite.     T.      Svo. 
1784. 

21.  Natural  Son.  C.  8vo.l785. 

22.  The  Arab:  T.  1/85.    N.P. 

23.  The  Country  Attorney.     C. 
1787.     N.  P. 

24.  The  Impostors.  C.  8vo.l789- 

25.  School  for  Widows.  C.  1769* 
N.P. 


16* 


CUM 

26.  bcca'simal  Prelude.     1792. 

N,  P. 

27.  The  Armourer.  CO.  1793. 
N.  P. 

28.  TAe   Box-lobby   Challenge. 
-<?.     Svo.    No  date.   [1794.] 

29.  The  Jew.     C.     8vo.   1794. 

30.  Wheel  of  Fortune.  C.  Svo. 
1795. 

31.  First  Love.    C.    Svo.  1795. 

32.  The  Dependant.  C.  1/95. 
N.  P. 

33.  Don  Pedro.  Dr.  8vo.  1796. 

34.  The  Days  of  Yore.  D.  Svo. 
1796. 

35.  The  Last  of  the  Family.  C. 
Svo.  1797. 

36.  False  Impressions.    C.  8vo. 

1797. 

37.  Village  Fete.  Int.  1797. 
N.  P.  (Ascribed  to  him  by  re- 
port.) 

38.  The  Clouds.  C.  8vo.  N.D. 

0797] 

39.  The  Eccentric  Lover.  C. 
1798.     N.  P. 

40.  A  Word  for  Nature.  C. 
1798.    N.  P. 

41.  Joanna  of  Montfaucon.  Dr. 
Rom.     8vo.  1800. 

42.  Lovers'  Resolutions.  Com. 
1802.     N.  P. 

43.  Sailor  s  Daughter.  C.  Svo. 
1804. 

44.  Victory  and  Death  of  Lord 
Nelson.     M.  D.  P.    1805.     N.  P. 

45.  Hint  to  Husbands.  C.  8vo. 
1806. 

46.  The  Jew  of  Mogadore.  O. 
Svo.  1808. 

47.  Robber.  Dr.  Piece.  1809. 
N.  P. 

48.  Widow's  only  Son.  C.J1810. 
N.P. 

49.  Alcanor.     Play.     N.  P. 

50.  The  False   Demetrius.      P. 

N.P. 

51.  Passive  Husband.  P.    N.P. 

52.  The  Sybil  [Sibyl] ;  or,  The 
Elder  Brutus,   P.     N.  P. 

VOL.  I. 


CUM 


53.  Tiberius  in  Caprece.  P.  N.P. 

54.  Torrendal.     Trag.     N.  P. 
Besides  the  labour,  as  well  as 

genius,  implied  in  the  execution 
of  this  unexampled  collection  of 
plays  written  by  one  author,  we 
are  to  give  Mr.  Cumberland  credit 
for  other  works,  which  do  great 
honour  both  to  his  head  and  heart. 
Of  these  the  principal  are  as  follow : 

Anecdotes  "f  eminent  Painters 
in  Spain,  2  vols. ;  The  Observer, 
a  periodical  paper,  6  vols.;  Arun~ 
del,  a  novel,  2  vols.;  Henry,  a 
novel,  2  vols.;  Calvary,  an  epic 
poem  ;  The  Exodiad,  an  epic  poem 
(in  conjunction  with  Sir  James 
Bland  Burges,  who  was  his  near 
neighbour  at  Tunbridge  Wells) ; 
and  Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumber- 
land, written  by  Himself,  2  vols. 
To  these  we  may  add  numerous 
Prologues  and  Epilogues,  Tracts 
controversial  and  political,  and  a 
few  Poems. 

That  a  man  of  such  learning,  of 
such  versatility  of  literary  talent, 
such  unquestionable  genius,  and 
such  sound  morality,  should,  in 
"  the  vale  of  years,"  feel  the  want 
of  what  he  has  lost  by  his  exertions 
for  the  public  good,  must,  to  every 
feeling  mind,  be  a  subject  of  keen 
regret;  yet  the  fact  seems  to  be 
placed  beyond  doubt  by  the  fol- 
lowing annunciation  of  his  inten- 
tion, in  I8O9,  to  publish  a  4to. 
volume  of  his  dramas,  which,  we 
are  sorry  to  say,  because  it  im- 
plies a  want  of  encouragement, 
has  not  yet  (April  1811)  ap- 
peared : 

"  TO    THE    PUBLIC. 

"  It  was  my  purpose  to  hare 
"  reserved  these  MSS.  for  th» 
"  eventual  use  and  advantage  of  a 
If'  beloved  daughter  after  my  de- 
ei  cease  ;  but  the  circumstances  of 
"  my  story,  which  are  before  the 
"  public,  and  to  which  I  can  ap- 

M 


163 


CUN 
peal  without  a  blush,  make  it 
needless  for  me  to  slate  why  1 
am  not  able  to  fulfil  that  pur- 
pose: I  therefore  now,  with  full 
reliance  on  the  candour  and  pro- 
tection of  my  countrymen  at 
large,  solicit  their  subscription  to 
these  unpublished  dramas;  con- 
scious as  I  am,  that  neither  in 
this  instance,  nor  in  any  other 
through  the  course  of  my  long- 
continued  labours,  have  I  wil- 
fully directed   the   humble   ta- 


C  U  N 
mock  French   charac- 


walk,  th 
ter. 

His  passion  for  the  stage  had 
obtained  so  strong  a  power  over 
him,  that  against  the  wishes  of  his 
friends,  and  without  any  commu- 
nication of  his  intentions  to  them, 
he  secretly  left  his  family  and  em- 
barked for  England,  where  he 
commenced  itinerant  player  with 
a  success  that  by  no  means  an- 
swered his  expectations.  He  soon 
became  sensible  of  his  imprudence, 
lents,  with  which  God  hath  en-  but  pride  prevented  his  return  to 
**  dowed  me,  otherwise  than  to  his  parents  ;  and  ere  he  had  time 
*'  his  service,  and  the  genuine  in-  to  work  himself  into  a  resolution 
**  terests  (so  far  as  I  understood  of  obeying  the  calls  of  duty,  he 
"  them)  of  benevolence  and  vir-  received  intelligence  that  his'  fa- 
"  tue.  ther  had  become  insolvent.     This 

"  Richard  Cumberland."  news  was  followed  by  that  of  his 
Cunningham,  John.  An  ele-  death.  Still,  however,  an  asylum 
gant  and  ingenious  poet,  and  a  was  open  to  our  author  in  the 
very  worthy  man.  He  was  born  house  of  an  affectionate  brother, 
in  the  year  1729  in  Dublin,  where  Mr.  P.  Cunningham,  one  of  the 
his  father,  an  eminent  wine-mer-  best  statuaries  in  Ireland,  who  re- 
chant,  and  his  mother,  both  of  peatedly  urged  him  to  return  ;  but 
whom  were  of  Scotch  parents,  then    the  idea  of  a  state  of  dependence 


resided.  He  was  the  youngest  son 
of  his  father,  and  early  began  to 
exhibit  specimens  of  his  poetical 
powers.  By  the  time  he  was  twelve 
years  old,  he  had  produced  se- 
veral pieces  which  are  still  admired, 


was  of  all  others  the  most  repug- 
nant to  him.  What  he  had  origi- 
nally adopted  from  choice,  he 
now  found  himself  obliged  to  per-: 
sist  in  from  necessity.  After  hav- 
ing experienced  various  vicissitudes 


and  at  the  age  of  seventeen  years  in  the  north  of  England,  we  find 

wrote  the  only  dramatic  perform-  him,  in  the   year   1761,    a  per* 

ance  that  he  left.     The  free  ac-  former  at  Edinburgh,  under   the 

cess  which  this  little  drama  gave  direction  of  Mr.  Love.     Here  he 

him  to  the  playhouse  was  of  very  wrote   some   of  his   best   pieces, 

-pernicious  consequence  to  him.    It  It  is  at  this  period  that,  as  a  poet, 

created  a  disgust  at  the  plodding  he  also  began  to  emerge  from  ob- 

life  of  a   tradesman,  and  excited  scurity. 

a  desire  to  appear  on  the  stage  as  a  Willing  to  snatch  at  every  op- 
performer,  though  he  scarcely  pos-  portuuity  that  might  extricate  him 
sessed  a  single  requisite  for  such  a  from  a  profession  in  which  nature 
profession.     His  figure  was  totally  had  denied  him   the  qualities  to 


against  him  either  for  tragedy  or 
genteel  comedy:  in  thepclit  maitre 
cast,  however,  he  was  tolerable ; 
and  if  he  in  any  thing  rose  to  ex- 


shine,  and  for  which  he  had  long 
lost  all  relish,  he  cheerfully  adopt- 
ed the  advice  of  his  friends,  and, 
in  hopes  of  obtaining  a  more  com- 


-cellence,  it  wa6  in  his  favourite    fortable,  as  well  as  a  more  respect- 


W?3 


CUN 


CUT 


able,  subsistence  in  the  world  of 
letters,  he  repaired  from  Edin- 
burgh to  London.  These  hopes, 
however,  were  vain.  Hardly  had 
he  set  foot  in  the  capital,  when  he 
found  that  the  bookseller,  by  whom 
he  was  to  be  employed,  had  stopped 
payment.  He  soon  also  discovered 
that  scandal  and  political  alterca- 
tion had  entirely  taken  up  the  at- 
tention of  the  public,  and  that, 
unless  he  prostituted  his  abilities 
to  these  objects,  he  was  not  likely 
to  meet  with  much  success.  He, 
therefore,  left  the  town  with  pre- 
cipitation, after  a  short  and  dis- 
agreeable stay  in  it,  aud  once  more 
returned  to  Scotland. 

At  this  juncture,  Mr.  Digges 
was  manager  of  the  Edinburgh 
playhouse,  and  he  treated  our  au- 
thor with  uncommon  respect  and 
kindness.  Mr.  Cunningham  con- 
tinued under  that  gentleman's  ma- 
nagement until  he  quitted  Scot- 
land. He  then  returned  to  New- 
castle-upon-Tyne ;  a  spot  which, 
as  it  had  been  his  residence  for 
many  years,  he  had  originally  left 
with  regret,  and  which,  to  his 
last  breath,  he  used  emphatically 
to  call  his  home. 

At  this  place,  and  in  the  neigh- 
bouring towns,  he  earned  a  scanty, 
but  to  him  a  sufficient,  subsistence. 
Though  his  mode  of  life  was  pre- 
carious and  rather  disreputable,  it 
became  much  less  so  from  the 
estimation  he  was  held  in  by  some 
of  the  most  respectable  characters 


in  the  country,  who  afforded  hira 
their  support  and  protection.  Be- 
ing passionately  fond  of  retirement, 
and  happy  in  the  society  of  a  little 
circle  of  rural  friends,  he  rejected 
every  solicitation  to  try  once  more 
his  fortune  in  the  capital;  declaring 
it  to  be  his  wish,  that  as  he  had 
lived,  so  he  might  die  among  his 
friends  in  Northumberland ;  not 
was  that  wish  denied  him.  From 
a  long-rooted  disorder  in  his  nerves 
a  lingering  illness  ensued,  which, 
on  the  18th  day  of  September  1773, 
terminated  his  life.  He  was  bu- 
ried in  St*  John's  churchyard, 
Newcastle. 

He  is  entitled  to  a  place  in  thi* 
work  on  account  of  one  piece, 
called 

Love  in  a  Mist.  Farce.  l2mo. 
1/47. 

Cunningham,  Josias.  Of  thia 
author  we  can  only  inform  the 
reader,  that  he  wrote  one  drama, 
called 

The  Royal  Shepherds.  P.  8vo. 
1765. 

Cuthbertson,  Miss.  To  a 
lady  of  tli  is  name  has  been  as- 
cribed 

Anna.  Com.  1793.  N.  P. 
Cutts,  John.  Of  this  gentle- 
man we  know  nothing  further  tharv 
that  his  name  stands  as  an  author 
in  the  title-page  of  one  dramatic 
piece,  entitled 

Rebellion  defeated.  Trag.  4to. 
1745. 


■a  2 


irk 


D. 


DAB 

D.  D.  Gent.  These  initials  we 
rind  affixed  to 

The  Faithful  Shepherd.  Past. 
Com.     12mo.  1633. 

D.  J.  These  initials  stand  in 
the  title-pages  of  three  several 
dramatic  pieces  ;  but  it  is  scarcely 
probable  that  they  should  all  be 
the  works  of  the  same  author. 
Their  titles  are, 

1.  The  Knave  in  Grain  new 
vampt.     C.    4to.  1640. 

2.  Hell's  High  Court  of  Justice. 
4to.  l6'6T. 

3.  The  Mall.  C.  4to.  1674. 
Langbaine  tells  us,  that  the  last 
was  ascribed  by  Dr.  Hyde,  the 
Proto-libliothecarius,  or  upper  li- 
brarian, of  one  of  the  universities, 
to  Mr.  Dryden  ;  but  as  it  is  pro- 
bable the  Doctor  might  have  no 
stronger  foundation  for  his  conjec- 
ture than  the*  mere  correspond- 
ence of  the  letters  J.  D.  with  the 
words  John  Dryden,  we  are  apt 
to  join  in  opinion  with  Langbaine, 
that  the  dissimilarity  of  style,  es- 
pecially in  the  epistle  dedicatory, 
in  which  Mr.  Dryden's  manner 
was  in  general  very  characteristic, 
is  an  argument  sufficiently  strong 
against  the  too  peremptorily  giving 
the  honour,  or  ascribing  the  dis- 
grace, of  being  the  author  of  it  to 
that  very  celebrated  writer. 

Dab  or  ne,  alias  Dau  borne,  Ro- 
bert. Though  the  same  differ- 
ence appears  in  the  spelling  of  this 
author's  name  as  in  Mr.  Dancer's, 
after  mentioned,  the  first  is  cer- 
tainly right.  He  lived  in  the  reign 
of  King  James  I.  and  had  a  liberal 
education,  being  ma6ter  of  artsj 
2 


DAL 

but  in  what  university  he  took  ha 
degree  appears  uncertain.  He  was 
also  in  holy  orders,  and  it  is  pro- 
bable had  a  living  in  Ireland.  At 
least,  it  is  apparent  he  was  in  that 
kingdom,  from  a  sermon  published 
by  him  on  Zech.  ii.  7 >  in  the  year 
104  8,  which  is  said  in  the  title- 
page  to  have  been  preached  at  Wa- 
terford.  He  wrote  the  two  fol- 
lowing plays  : 

1.  Christian  turned  Turk.  T. 
4to.  1612. 

2.  Poor  Man's  Comfort.  T.  C. 
4to.  1655. 

D'Aguilar,  Miss  Rose.  A 
lady  of  this  name  translated  from 
the  German 

Gortz  of  Berlingen.  Hist.  Dr. 
8vo.     N.  D.  [1/99.] 

Dallas,  Robert  Charles: 
This  gentleman  is  the  son  of  Dr. 
Dallas,  a  physician  of  Kingston, 
Jamaica,  in  which  place  our  au- 
thor was  born.  At  a  very  early 
period  of  life  he  was  sent  to  re- 
ceive the  rudiments  of  education 
at  Musselburgh,  in  Scotland ; 
whence  he  was  removed  to  Eng- 
land, and  placed  under  the  tui- 
tion of  Mr.  Elphinston,  at  Ken- 
sington, who  was  well  known  as 
an  indefatigable  labourer  at  afutil* 
attempt  to  alter  the  whole  ortho- 
graphy of  the  English  language. 
Ou  leaving  school,  Mr.  D.  in- 
tended to  embrace  a  military  life  ; 
but  meeting  with  some  disappoint- 
ments in  the  purchase  of  a  com- 
mission, he  entered  himself  as  a 
student  of  law  in  the  InnerTemple. 
Like  many  others,  however,  whose 
names  occur  in  these  volumes,  he 


165 


DAL 

devoted  more  of  his  hours  to  the 
Muses  than  to  the  law.  About 
the  time  of  his  coming  of  age,  he 
made  a  voyage  to  Jamaica,  to  take 
possession  of  property  that  had 
fallen  to  him  by  his  father's  death; 
where,  however,  he  soon  became 
disgusted  with  a  colonial  life,  from 
the  cruel  treatment  which  he  fre- 
quently saw  used  toward  the  slaves; 
but,  being  appointed  to  a  lucrative 
office  on  the  north  aide  of  the 
island,  he  remained  two  or  three 
years  in  Jamaica.  On  his  return 
to  England,  he  married  Miss  Hard- 
ing, daughter  of  Benjamin  Hard- 
ing, Esq.  of  Hacton  House,  near 
Horncburchj  in  Essex. 

After  the  enjoyment  of  a  few 
years  in  England,  he  was  under 
the  necessity  of  again  crossing  the 
Atlantic  ;  previous  to  which,  how- 
ever, he  completed  his  terms  at 
the  Temple,  and  was  called  to  the 
bar.  After  spending  a  few  years 
more  in  Jamaica,  and  finding  Mrs. 
Dallas's  health  impaired  by  the 
climate,  he  resolved  to  quit  it  for 
ever.  His  predecessor  in  the  office 
which  he  held  having  been  per- 
mitted to  nominate  him  to  succeed, 
he  flattered  himself  that  he  should 
be  able  to  obtain  the  like  permis- 
sion ;  but  he  was  mistaken :  the 
minister  (Mr.  Pitt),  though  greatly 
solicited  on  the  occasion,  left  him 
only  the  alternative  of  losing  his 
office,  or  living  in  the  West 
Indies. 

Mr.  Dallas  adopted  the  former, 
passed  several  years  on  the  conti- 
nent, and  was  at  Paris  in  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Revolution. 
The  enormities,  however,  that  he 
witnessed  there  drove  him  thence, 
and  he  found  a  retreat  for  his  fa- 
mily in  the  county  of  Suffolk, 
where  for  some  years  he  devoted 
himself  to  the  education  of  his 
tphildren«     His  family  increasing 


DAL 


and  growing  up,  he  was  tempted, 
by  deceitful  reports  of  the  para- 
disaical state  of  America,  to  pay 
a  visit  to  his  brother,  who. was 
settled  at  Philadelphia.  But  he 
found  his  prepossessions  in  favour 
of  England  only  the  more  firmly 
rooted  by  what  he  saw  of  America : 
he  therefore  returned  home,  and 
commenced  a  literary  career  that 
has  been  creditable  at  once  to  his 
genius  and  industry.  His  princi- 
pal original  productions  are,  Mis- 
cellaneous Writings,  consisting  of 
Poems,  &c.  (including  the  tragedy 
hereafter  mentioned),  4to.  1797'; 
Percival,  a  novel,  1801  ;  Elements 
of  Self-knowledge,  1802;  The  His- 
tory of  the  Maroons,  1S03  ;  Aubrey, 
a  novel,  1804.  Beside  these,  he 
is  the  translator  from  the  French 
of  Mallet  du  Pan's  British  Mer- 
cury, M.  Bertram!  de  Moleville's 
Annals  of  the  French  Revolution, 
Clery's  Journal  of  the  Sufferings 
of  the  Royal  Family  of  France  in 
the  Temple,  and  the  Abbe  Ordi- 
nate's Natural  History  of  Volca- 
noes. 

That  his  name  finds  a  place  in 
this  work,  however,  Mr.  Dallas 
owes  to  two  dramatic  productions, 
viz. 

1.  Lucretia.     T.    4 to.  1/97. 

2.  Not  at  Home.  Dram.  Ent. 
8vo.  IS09. 

Dalton,  John.  This  gentle- 
man was  son  of  the  Rev.  John 
Dalton,  rector  of  Dean,  in  Cum- 
berland, where  he  was  born  in 
1709.  He  was  a  member  of 
Queen's  College,  Oxford,  and  took 
the  degree  of  M.  A.  May  9,  1734. 
He  afterwards  became  tutor  or  go- 
vernor to  the  only  son  of  Alger- 
non Seymour,  Duke  of  Somerset, 
a  very  hopeful  and  promising  young 
gentleman,  whose  death  in  the 
bloom  of  youth  and  expectation 
stands  on  record  in  a  very  affecting 
m  3 


166 


DAL 

manner  in  two  letters  on  that  oc- 
casion, written  by  his  afflicted  mo- 
ther,  the  Countess   of  Hertford, 
afterwards  Dutchess  of  Somerset, 
and  which   since  her  death  have 
been  published  in  Mr.  Duncombe's 
Collection  of  Letters.     On  the  4th 
of  July   1750,  he  was  honoured 
with  the  degrees  of  B.  and  D.D. 
At  the  time  of  his  death,   which 
happened  July  21,  1763,  he  was 
prebendary  of  Worcester,  and  rec- 
tor of  St.  Mary-at-Hill.     Dr.  Dal- 
ton's  claim  to  a  mention  in  this 
work  is  his   having   altered,  and 
rendered  more  fit  for  dramatic  ex- 
hibition,Milton'sadpo»rableMasque 
at  Ludlow  Castle,  which  he  con- 
^derably  extended,  not   only  by 
the  insertion   of  some  songs  and 
different  parages   selected    from 
other  of  Milton's  works,  but  also 
by  the  addition  of  several  songs 
and  improvements  of  his  own,  so 
admirably   adapted   to   the    man- 
ner of  the  original  author  of  the 
masque,  as  by  no  means  to  disgrace 
the  more  genuine  parts,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  greatly  to  exalt  our 
ideas  of  Dr.  Dalton's  poetical  abi- 
lities.    It  has,  moreover,  had  the 
advantage  of  being  mostexcellently 
set  to  nwic  by  Dr.  Arne,  and  is 
sometimes  acted  under  the  title  of 
Comus.    Masque.     8vo.  1 73S. 
During  the  run  of  Comus  t  he 
industriously  sought  out  a  grand- 
daughter   of    Milton     (Elizabeth 
Foster),  oppressed  both  by  age  and 
poverty,  and  procured  her  a  bene- 
fit from  it  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre, 
on  tt)e  5th  of  April  1750,  by  which 
she  cleared  above  130/.     Mr.  Gar- 
rick  spoke  a  prologue,  which  was 
written  by  Dr,  Johnson  for  the  oc- 
casion. 

Dalton,  John.  This  author 
resided  at  Clifton,  near  York,  and 
was  the  keeper  of  a  public  garden, 
\yhere  parties  were  accommodated 


PAN 

with  tea.  In  the  prologue  to  his 
farce  he  pleads  poverty  in  ex- 
cuse for  his  attempting  the  drama; 
The  name  of  his  performance  is 

Honour  Rewarded ;  or,  The  Ge- 
nerous Fortune  Hunter.  F.  8vo. 
1775. 

Dance,  James.  See  Love, 
James. 

Dancer,  John.  This  author, 
who  lived  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. 
is  said  to  have  been  born  in  Ire- 
land. He  was  a  servant  in  the 
family  of  the  Duke  of  Osmond, 
and  lived  a  great  part  of  his  time 
in  that  kingdom.  About  the  year 
1670  he  came  over  into  England  j 
and,  being  perfect  master  of  the 
French  and  Italian  languages,  he 
translated  three  dramatic  pieces 
from  the  originals  of  three  emi- 
nent poets,  viz.  Tasso,  Corneille, 
and  Quinault.  The  pieces  are  as 
follow : 

1.  Amynta.     Past.     8vo.  1660. 

2.  Nicomede.   T.C.    4to.  1671, 

3.  Agrippa,  King  of  Alba.  T, 
4to.  I675. 

Langbaine  has  given  us  this  au- 
thor's name  Danceu,  alias  Daun- 
cy  j  but  whence  the  doubt  con-> 
cerning  his  name  arises  we  know 
not,  unless  from  the  irregularity 
of  spelling  which  was  given  way  to 
at  the  time  when  he  wrote. 

Daniel,  Samuel.  This  gen-, 
tleman,  who  stands  in  high  esti- 
mation among  the  writers  of  the 
age  he  lived  in,  both  as  a  poet 
and  an  historian,  flourished  in  the 
reigns  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and 
King  James  I.  He  was  the  son  of 
a  music-master,  and  born  near 
Taunton  in  Somersetshire,  in  the 
year  1562.  At  seventeen  years  of 
age  he  was  admitted  a  commoner 
of  Magdalen  Hall,  Oxford,  at 
which  place  he  continued  for  about 
the  space  of  three  years,  and,  during 
that  time,  by  the  assistance  of  an 


167 


DAN 

excellent   tutor,   and  by   dint   of 
great  assiduity  and  application  on 
his  own  side,  made  a  very  con- 
siderable progress  in  all  branches 
of   academical    learning.     Those 
which  were  of  a  graver  turn,  how- 
ever, not  so  well  suiting  his  ge- 
nius, he  applied   himself   princi- 
pally to  history  and  poetry,  which 
continued  to  be  his  favourites  du- 
ring the  remainder  of  his  life.    At 
the  expiration  of  the  above-men- 
tioned  term  he  quitted  the  uni- 
versity, and  came  up  to  London, 
■where  his  own  merit,  and  the  in- 
terest of  his  brother-in-law,  John 
Florio,  the  celebrated  author  of  an 
Italian  Dictionary,  recommended 
him  to  the  favour  of  Queen  Anne, 
King  James  Ist's  consort,  who  was 
pleased  to  confer  on  him  the  ho- 
nour of  being  first  gentleman  ex- 
traordinary, and  afterwards  one  of 
her  grooms  of  the  privy-chamber ; 
trhich  being  a  post  of  very  little 
employment,  the  income  of  it  en- 
abled him  to  rent  a  house  at  a 
small  distance  from  London,  which 
had  a  very  fine  garden  belonging 
to  it,  among  the  solitary  amuse- 
ments of  which  he  is  said  to  have 
composed  the  most  of  his  plays. 
Towards  the  latter  part  of  his  life 
he   quitted  London  entirely,  and 
retired,  according  to  Dr.  Fuller,  to 
a   farm    near   Devizes,    in   Wilt- 
shire 3  but  Wood  fixes  the  place  of 
his    retreat   at   Beckington,    near 
Philips  Norton,  in  Somersetshire, 
where  he  commenced  farmer;  and, 
after  some  years  spent  in  a  health- 
ful exercise  of  that  employment,  in 
the  service  of  the  Muses,  and  in 
religious  contemplation,  he  died  in 
October  10"  19. 

Wood  has  given  us  a  copy  of 
his  monumental  inscription,  in 
Beckington  church,  which  affixes 
the  above  date  to  his  death ;  and 
yet  Langbaine,  Gildon,  and  Jacob, 


DAN 


have  all  positively  declared  that  he- 
lived  till  near  eighty  years  of  age. 
We  can  account  for  this  only  by 
supposing  that  the  two  last  have, 
without  any  examination,  or  even 
reflection,  copied  the  error  of 
the  first,  who  has,  in  concur- 
rence with  the  account  given  of 
him  by  Wood,  absolutely  fixed 
his  birth  in  1562,  and  his  death  in 
1619,  at  which  time  he  could  have 
been  only  fifty-seven,  and  yet,  im- 
mediately after,  asserted  that  he 
lived  to  fourscore  years  of  age  : 
and  even,  after  all,  there  is  soma 
difficulty  remaining,  as  we  find  a 
corrected  edition  of  his  Cleopatra 
greatly  altered,  and  also  one  of  the 
Vision  of  the  Twelve  Goddesses, 
which  is  said  to  be  published  by 
the  author  from  his  own  copy,  in 
justification  of  himself  from  a 
spurious  edition  before  printed 
without  his  knowledge ;  both  of 
which  are  dated  in  1623.  But  as 
the  general  edition  of  his*vorks, 
in  l623,  was  published  by  his  bro- 
ther, Mr.  John  Daniel,  it  is  pos- 
sible these  alterations  may  have 
been  from  MS.  copies  which  he 
had  himself  prepared  for  the  press 
before  his  death ;  since  it  is  scarcely 
possible  that  Wood,  who  had  seen 
his  monument,  could  have  mis- 
taken the  date  inscribed  upon  it. 
The  above-named  monument  was 
erected  to  his  memory  by  the  Lady 
Anne  Clifford,  afterwards  Countess 
of  Dorset,  to  whom  he  had  for- 
merly been  tutor,  and  who  was  a 
very  great  lover  and  encourager  of 
learning  and  learned  men. 

[Since  the  last  edition  of  this 
work  was  printed,  it  has  been  as- 
certained that  Wood's  date  is  right  j 
see  Collinson's  History  of  Somer- 
setshire, page  201.  Daniel's  will, 
which  is  in  the  Prerogative  Court 
of  Canterbury,  was  mad.  Sept.  4, 
I619,  and  proved  Feb.  1,  1620: 
M  4 


168 


DAN 

in  it,  he  left  his  brother  John  sole 
executor,  and  appointed  Simon 
Waterson  (a  celebrated  printer), 
and  John  Philips  (his  brother-in- 
law),  overseers  of  his  will.  He 
bequeathed  therein  "  a  bed  and 
"  the  furniture  thereof  to  his  sis- 
tc  ter  Susan  Bowre,  and  such  linen 
*'  as  he  shall  leave  at  his  house  at 
"Ridge." — Reg.  Prerog.  Court, 
Soane  12.] 

Hisdramatic  pieces,which, how- 
ever, are  not  equal  to  some  other 
of  his  poetical  works,  and  still  less 
so  to  his  histories,  which  are  yet 
held  in  very  high  estimation,  .are 
the  following  six,  viz. 

1.  Cleopatra.  T.   12mo.  15Q4. 

2.  Vision  of  theTwelve Goddesses. 
M.     8vo.  1604;  4to.  1623. 

3.  Philotas.     T.     4to.  1605. 

4.  Queen's  Arcadia.  Past.  T*C. 
4  to.  1606. 

5.  Tethys'  Festival ;  or,  The 
Queens  Wake.     Int.    4to.  l6lO. 

6.  ftk/ynen's  Triumph.  Past.  Tr.- 
Com.     4  to.  1623. 

He  succeeded  Spenser  as  poet- 
laureat;  in  which  honour  he  him- 
self was  succeeded  by  the  cele- 
brated Ben  Jonson.  Daniel,  says 
Mr.  Headley,  though  very  rarely 
sublime,  has  skill  in  the  pathetic, 
and  his  pages  are  disgraced  with 
neither  pedantry  nor  conceit.  We 
find,  both  in  his  poetry  and  prose, 
such  a  legitimate  and  rational  flow 
of  language  as  approaches  nearer 
the  style  of  the  18th  than  the  l6th 
century,  and  of  which  we  may 
safely  assert,  that  it  will  never  be- 
come obsolete.  He  certainly  was 
the  Atticns  of  his  day.  It  seems 
to  have  been  his  error  to  have  en- 
tertained too  great  a  diffidence  of 
his  own  abilities ;  constantly  con- 
tented with  the  sedate  propriety  of 
good  sense,  which  he  no  sooner 
attains  than  he  seems  to  rest  satis- 
fied, though  his  resources,  had  he 


D  A  N 
but  made  the  effort,  would  have 
carried    him    much    further.      In 
thus  escaping  censure,  he  is  not 
always  entitled  to  praise.     From 
not  endeavouring  to  be  great,  he 
sometimes  misses  of  being  respect- 
able.     The    constitution    of   his 
mind  seems  often   to  have  failed 
him  in  the  sultry  and  exhausting 
regions  of  the  Muses  ;  for,  though 
generally  neat,  easy,   and  perspi- 
cuous,   he   too   frequently   grows 
slack,  languid,  and  enervated.    In 
perusing  his  long  historical  poem, 
we  grow  sleepy  at  the  dead  ebb  of 
his  narrative,  notwithstanding  be* 
ing  occasionally  relieved  with  some 
touches  of  the  pathetic.    Unfortu- 
nate in  the  choice  of  his  subject, 
he  seems  fearful  of  supplying  its 
defects  by  digressional  embellish- 
ment;  instead  of  fixing  upon  one 
of  a  more  fanciful  cast,  which  \h£ 
natural  coolness  of  his  judgment 
would  necessarily  have  corrected, 
he  has  cooped  himself  up  within 
the  limited  and  narrow  pale  of  dry 
events  ;  instead  of  casting  his  eye 
on  the  general  history  of  human 
nature,  and  giving   his   genius   a 
range  over  her  immeasurable  fields, 
he  has  confined  himself  to  an  ab- 
stract diary  of  fortune  ;  instead  of 
presenting  us  with  pictures  of  truth 
from  the  effects  of  the  passions, 
he  has  versified  the  truth  of  action 
only ;   he  has  sufficiently,   there- 
fore, shown  the  historian,  but  by 
no  means  the  poet.     Daniel  has 
often  the  softness  of  Rowe  with- 
out his  effeminacy.     In  his  Com- 
plaint of  Cleopatra  he  has  caught 
Ovid's  manner  very  happily.     As 
he  has  no  obscurities  either  of  style 
or  language,   neither  pedantry  nor 
affectation,  all  of  which  have  con- 
curred in  banishing  from  use  the 
works  of  his  contemporaries,  the 
oblivion  he  has  met  with  is  pecu- 
liarly undeserved  -}  he  ha£  shared 


log 


D  A  R 


D  A  V 


their  fate,  though  innocent  of  their 
faults. 

Daniel  enjoyed  the  friendship 
and  the  praises  of  the  most  eminent 
men  of  his  age.  Edmund  Bolton 
and  Gabriel  Harvey,  the  former  a 
professed  critic,  and  the  latter  the 
friend  of  Spenser,  and  a  promoter 
of  the  literature  of  his  country,  both 
mention  Daniel  with  respect,  as  a 
polisher  and  purifier  of  the  English 
lansrua^e.  W.  Browne  calls  him 
"  well-languag'd  Daniel,"  book  ii. 
song  2;  and  Spenser  has  left  Da- 
niel's character.  See  Colin  Clout  's 
come  Home  again,  vol.  iv.  p.  2/ 1>, 
Hugh.  edit. 

The  last  edition  of  his  works  is 
in  2  vols.  12mo.  1718;  which, 
however,  does  not  include  Tethys1 
Festival. 

D'Arblay,  Frances.  This  lady 
is  the  daughter  of  the  elder  Dr. 
Burney,  and  is  perhaps  better 
known  to  the  world  by  the  name 
of  Miss  Burney,  under  which  she 
produced  two  very  celebrated  no- 
vels ;  we  mean,  Evelina,  in  1777', 
and  Cecilia,  in  1782.  She  was 
married  on  the  28th  of  July  1793, 
at  Mickleham,  in  Surrey,  to  Alex- 
ander D'Arblay,  Esq.  an  emigrant 
French  gentleman.  Before  her 
marriage  she  was  for  some  time 
one  of  the  keepers  of  the  robes  to 
Her  Majesty  j  which  post,  how- 
ever, ill  health  had  obliged  her  to 
resign.  In  1793,  she  published 
Brief  Reflections  relative  to  the  Emi- 
grant French  Clergy,  earnestly  sub- 
mitted to  the  huma?ie  Consideration 
of  the  Ladies  of  Great  Britain,  the 
profits  of  which  were  to  be  appro- 
priated to  the  relief  of  that  re- 
spectable and  suffering  class  of 
persons.  In  179C>>  Mrs.  D'Arblay 
gave  the  public  a  third  novel  of 
great  merit,  but  scarcely  equal  to 
her  former  productions  in  the  same 
way,,  called  Camilla.    But  for  her 


being  noticed  in  this  work  she  is 
indebted  to  the  following  drama: 

Eduy  and  Elgiva.  T.  1795. 
N.  P. 

An  anecdote  is  related  respect- 
ing this  lady's  novel  of  Evelina, 
which  is  worth  preserving.  It  was 
produced  at  a  very  early  age,  and 
without  the  knowledge  of  her  fa- 
ther. The  Doctor,  from  a  due 
conviction  of  the  poison  insensibly 
infused  into  young  minds  by  an 
indiscriminate  perusal  of  the  trash 
of  our  circulating  libraries,  had 
cautioned  his  daughter  against  an 
unlimited  indulgence  of  such  an  in- 
clination ;  but  being  one  day  at  a 
friend's  house,  he  was  so  much, 
prepossessed  by  the  praises  which 
were  conferred  on  this  anonymous 
production,  that  he  borrowed  it 
for  the  purpose  of  recommending 
it  to  his  daughter's  perusal. 

Darcy,  James.  This-  gentle- 
man was  a  native  of  the  county  of 
Galway,  in  Ireland,  and  has  Obliged 
the  public  with  two  dramatic 
pieces,  both  of  them  performed  at 
the  Theatre  Royal  in  Dublin. 
Their  respective  titles  are, 

1.  Love  and  Ambition.  T.  Svo. 
1732. 

2.  Orphan  of  Venice.   T.  1749. 
Dauborne.     See  Daborne. 
D'Avenant,  Charles,  LL.D. 

This  gentleman  was  eldest  son  of 
Sir  William  D'Avenant,  the  poet- 
laureat,  whom  we  are  just  about  to 
mention.  He  was  born  in  the 
year  1656,  and  received  the  first 
rudiments  of  letters  at  the  gram- 
mar-school of  Cheame,  in  Surry. 
He  gave  very  early  proofs  of  an 
active  and  sprightly  genius,  and, 
being  sent  to  Oxford  to  complete 
his  studies,  became  a  fellow-com- 
moner of  Baliol  College  in  1G71, 
but  left  the  university  without 
taking  a  degree.  When  he  was 
only  nineteen  years  old,  he  pro- 


1/-0 


D  A  V 

duced  the  single  dramatic  piece 
which  he  gave  the  public.  He, 
however,  soon  relinquished  all  at- 
tention to  poetry,  for  studies  of  a 
very  different  nature.  Applying 
himself  to  the  civil  law,  he  had  the 
degree  of  doctor  conferred  on  him 
Dy  the  university  of  Cambridge, and 
in  the  first  parliament  of  King  James 
the  Second  represented  the  bo- 
rough of  St.  Ives,  in  Cornwall. 
Tie  was  also  about  the  same  time 
appointed  inspector  of  plays  and 
commissioner  of  excise,  in  which 
latter  employment  he  continued 
from  1683  to  lfJSO.  In  IGOS  he 
was  elected  one  of  the  representa- 
tives for  the  borough  of  Great 
Bedwin.  Some  time  afterwards 
be  had  the  post  of  inspector-gene- 
ral of  the  exports  and  imports  of 
the  customs  bestowed  upon  him; 
and  he  died  in  possession  of  this 
employment,  Nov. 6, 1/14.  He  was 
a  voluminous  and  excellent  writer 
on  th*  subjects  of  politics  and  re- 
venue during  the  reigns  of  King 
"William  and  Queen  Anne.  Most 
of  his  works  in  this  way  were  col- 
lected by  Sir  Charles  Whitworth, 
in  five  volumes  8vo.  He  wrote 
one  drama,  called 

Circe.     Trng.     4to.  l6//. 

Davenant,  Sir  William.  To 
this  gentleman,  of  whose  variegated 
life  we  are  now  about  to  rt-Iate  the 
circumstances,  the  English  stage 
perhaps  stands  more  deeply  in- 
debted than  to  any  other  writer  of 
this  nation  with  respect  to  the  re- 
finement of  poetry,  and  his  zealous 
application  to  the  promoting  and 
contributing  towards  those  rational 
pleasures,  which, are  fittest  for  the 
entertainment  of  a  civilized  people : 
and  the  greater  should  his  merit 
be  esteemed  in  this  particular,  since 
riot  only  the  important  affairs  of 
the  state,  whose  necessities  de- 
manded his  assistance,  and  of  which 


D  A  V 
he  was  no  unactive  member  at  a 
period  of  great  confusion  and  per- 
plexity, but  even  confinement,  and 
the  prospect  of  death  itself,  were 
insufficient  to  abate  his  ardour  or 
lessen  his  diligence  in  the  cause  of 
his  darling  mistresses  the  Muses  j 
for  it  is  recorded  of  him,  that  when 
he  was  prisoner  in  Cowes  Castle, 
and  on  a  pretty  near  certainty  (ac- 
cording to  his  own  expression)  of 
being  hanged  within  a  week,  he 
still  pursued  the  composition  of  his 
celebrated  poem  of  Gondii ert,  and 
even  was  master  enough  of  his 
temper  and  abilities  to  write  a  let- 
ter to  his  friend  Hobbes,  giving 
some  account  of  the  progress  he 
had  made  in  it,  and  offering  some 
criticisms  on  the  nature  of  that 
kind  of  poetry.  But  to  proceed 
more  regularly  in  his  history. 

Our  author  was  a  younger  son 
of  Mr.  John  D'Avenant,  who  was 
a  citizen  of  Oxford,  being  a  very 
substantial  vintner,  and  keeping  a 
large  tavern,  afterwards  known  by 
the  name  of  the  Crown,  in  that 
city;  where  he  moreover,  in  1621, 
attained  to  the  honour  of  being 
elected  mayor.  This  son  was  born 
at  Oxford  in  Feb.  1005,  and  very 
early  in  life  gave  tokens  of  a  lively 
and  promising  genius.  He  re- 
ceived the  rudiments  of  gramma- 
tical learning  from  Mr.  Edward 
Sylvester,  who  kept  a  school  in  the 
parish  of  All-Saints,  Oxford;  and, 
in  the  year  1621,  being  that  of  his 
father's  mayoralty,  he  was  entered 
a  member  of  Lincoln  College,  in 
that  university,  in  order  to  com- 
plete his  academical  studies  under 
Mr.  Daniel  Hough.  Here,  how- 
ever, he  took  no  degree,  nor,  ac- 
cording to  Wood's  opinion,  made 
any  long  residence;  that  writer  ab- 
solutely informing  us,  at  the  same 
time  that  he  acknowledges  the 
strength  of  his  genius,  and  eve& 


171 


D  A  V 


D  A  V 


distinguishes  him  by  the  title  of 
"  The  sweet  Swan  of  Isis,"  that 
he  was  nevertheless  considerably 
deficient  in  university  learning. 

On  his  quitting  the  university, 
he  became  one  in  the  retinue  of 
the  magnificently-disposed  Frances, 
Dutchess  of  Richmond,  out  of 
whose  family  he  removed  into 
that  of  the  celebrated  Sir  Fulk 
Greville,  Lord  Brook,  whose  his- 
tory we  have  recorded  in  its  pro- 
per place.  But  after  the  unhappy 
death  of  that  nobleman  in  lo"2S, 
being  now  left  without  a  patron, 
although  not  in  distressed  circum- 
stances, it  is  probable  that  views 
of  profit  as  well  as  amusement 
might  induce  him  to  an  exertion  of 
his  genius;  as  he  in  the  ensuing 
year  produced  his  first  play,  called 
Albovine,  King  of  the  Lombards, 
which  met  with  great  success. 

For  the  eight  succeeding  years 
he  passed  his  time  in  the  service 
of  the  Muses,  and  a  constant  at- 
tendance at  court,  where  he  was 
very  much  caressed  by  all  the 
great  wits  ;  among  whom  we  find 
him  in  the  closest  intimacy  with 
the  Earl  of  Dorset,  Lord  Treasurer 
Weston,  and  the  accomplished  En- 
dymion  Porter,  Esq.  In  conse- 
quence of  this  extensive  personal 
interest,  and  the  peculiar  patron- 
age of  the  Queen,  he  was,  in  the 
year  163J,  promoted  to  the  laurel, 
which  was  vacant  by  the  death  of 
Ben  Jonson,  and  for  which  Tho- 
mas May  stood  as  his  competitor. 
In  the  life  of  that  poet,  the  reader 
will  find  related  the  resentment  he 
showed  on  the  loss  of  this  election ; 
and  it  will  equally  appear,  in  the 
course  of  this  gentleman's  history, 
•with  what  ardent  gratitude,  and 
unshaken  zeal  for  the  cause  of  the 
royal  family,  he  repaid  this  mark 
of  their  esteem  for  him :  for  as 
foou  as  eyer  the  civil  war  broke 


out,  he  demonstrated  his  loyalty  to 
the  King,  not  only  in  word,  but 
actions. 

In  May  1G41,  he  was  accused 
by  the  parliament  of  being  con- 
cerned in  a  design  for  seducing 
the  army  from  their  adherence  to 
the  parliamentary  authority;  and 
a  proclamation  being  issued  for 
the  apprehending  him  and  others 
engaged  in  that  design,  he  was 
stopped  at  Feversham,  sent  up  to 
London,  and  put  under  the  cus- 
tody of  the  serjeant  at  arms.  From 
hence,  in  the  month  of  July  fol- 
lowing, he  was  bailed,  and  soon, 
after  found  it  necessary  for  him  to 
withdraw  to  France.  In  this  at- 
tempt to  fly,  however,  he  was  not 
much  more  successful  than  in  the 
former,  reaching  no  further  than 
Canterbury  before  he  was  again 
seized  by  the  mayor  of  that  city, 
and  obliged  to  undergo  a  very 
strict  examination.  Whether  he 
was  put  into  confinement  on  this 
occasion,  or  suffered  to  proceed 
on  his  journey,  is  a  point  that  his 
biographers  have  not  rendered  ex- 
tremely clear ;  but  it  is  pretty  evi- 
dent that  the  delay  arising  from  it 
was  not  a  very  long  one;  as  we 
find  that  he  did  at  length  join  the 
Queen  in  France,  where  he  stayed 
for  some  time,  till,  accompanying 
a  parcel  of  military  stores  which 
that  Princess  sent  over  for  the  use 
of  the  Earl  of  Newcastle,  he  was 
entertained  by  his  Lordship,  who 
had  been  his  old  friend  and  patron, 
in  the  station  of  lieutenant-general 
of  the  ordnance. 

In  his  military  capacity  he  ap- 
pears to  have  behaved  well ;  for,  at 
the  siege  of  Gloucester,  in  Sept, 
1043,  he  received  the  honour  of 
knighthood  from  the  King,  as  an 
acknowledgment  of  his  bravery 
and  signal  services :  but,  on  the 
declining  of  the  King's  affairs^  g« 


1/2 


D  A  V 

far  as  to  be  beyond  retrieval,  Sir 
William  once  more  retired  to 
France,  where  he  changed  his  re- 
ligion for  that  of  the  church  of 
Rome,  and  remained  for  a  consi- 
derable time  with  the  Queen  and 
Prince  of  Wales.  By  them  he  was 
held  in  high  esteem,  and  appears 
to  have  been  entrusted  with  some 
important  negotiations  in  1  (5-1 0, 
and  particularly  employed  by  the 
Queen  in  an  attempt,  though  an 
unsuccessful  one,  to  prevail  on 
King  Charles  I,  to  comply  with 
some  temporizing  steps  which  she 
considered  as  necessary  to  his  in- 
terests. 

In  1650,  an  ingenious  project 
having  been  formed  for  sending  a 
select  number  of  artificers  (parti- 
cularly weavers)  from  France  to 
Virginia,  for  the  improvement  of 
that  colony,  our  author,  encou- 
raged to  it  by  the  Queen-mother, 
undertook  the  conduct  of  this  ex- 
pedition, and  absolutely  embarked 
in  the  prosecution  of  it  from  one 
of  the  ports  of  Normandy.  But 
fortune  not  being  inclined  to  fa- 
vour him,  the  vessel  had  scarcely 
got  clear  of  the  French  coast,  be- 
fore she  fell  in  with,  and  was  taken 
by,  a  ship  of  war  belonging  to  the 
parliament,  who  carried  her  into 
the  Isle  of  Wight. 

Sir  William  D'Avenant,  on  this 
occasion,  was  confined  for  some 
time  close  prisoner  to  Cowes  Cas- 
tle, and  in  the  ensuing  year  was 
sent  up  to  the  Tower  of  London, 
in  order  to  take  his  trial  before 
the  High  Court  of  Justice. 

During  his  confinement,  his  life 
was  for  a  long  time  kept  in  the 
utmost  suspense  and  danger  ;  yet, 
what  is  very  remarkable,  it  had  so 
little  effect  on  his  natural  vivacity 
and  easiness  of  disposition,  that  he 
still  with  great  assiduity  pursued 
his  poem  of  Gondibert,  two  books 


D  A  V 

of  which  he  had  written  while  in 
France.  By  what  means  he  es- 
caped this  impending  storm  is  not 
absolutely  apparent.  Some  have 
attributed  it  to  the  interposition  of 
two  aldermen  of  York,  to  whom 
he  had  shown  some  peculiar  civi- 
lities when  they  had  been  taken 
prisoners  in  the  north  by  the  Earl 
of  Newcastle's  forces  ;  and  others 
ascribe  his  safety  fo  the  mediation 
of  the  great  Milton.  Though  the 
former  of  these  particulars  may 
have  some  foundation,  and  might 
be  a  concurrent  circumstance  in 
his  preservation,  yet  we  cannot 
help  thinking  the  lattermost  likely 
to  have  been  the  principal  instru- 
ment in  it ;  as  the  immortal  bard 
was  a  man  whose  interest  was  most 
potent  at  that  time;  and  it  is  rea- 
sonable to  imagine  a  sympathetic 
regard  for  a  person  of  Sir  Wil- 
liam's poetical  abilities  must  plead 
strongly  in  his  favour  in  so  hu- 
mane a  breast  as  that  of  Milton, 
and  point  out  to  him  that  true 
genius  ought  to  be  considered  of 
no  party,  but  as  claiming  the  pro- 
tection of  all :  and  what  seems  to 
confirm  this  is,  that  we  find,  ten 
years  afterwards,  when  the  latter 
was  exactly  in  the  same  predica- 
ment, he  stood  indebted  for  the 
same  protection  to  Sir  William  ;  to 
whom,  therefore,  mankind  ought 
to  consider  themselves  as  under 
double  obligations,  since,  but  for 
his  intercession  for  the  life  of  Mil- 
ton, the  world  would  never  have 
been  enriched  with  the  noblest 
poem  it  can  boast. 

Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  he 
was  at  length  admitted  to  his  li- 
berty as  a  prisoner  at  large ;  yet 
his  circumstances  being  now  con- 
siderably reduced,  he  made  a  bold 
effort  towards  at  once  redressing, 
them,  and  redeeming  the  public 
from  that  cynical  and  austere  gjoarn 


173 


D  A  V 

■which  had  long  hung  over  it,  oc- 
casioned by  the  suppression  of  thea- 
trical amusements.  He  well  knew 
that  a  theatre,  if  conducted  with 
skill  and  address,  would  still  find  a 
sufficient  number  of  partisans  to 
support  it ;  and  having  obtained 
the  countenance  of  LordWhitlocke, 
Sir  John  Maynard,  and  other  per- 
sons of  rank,  who  were  in  rea- 
lity no  friends  to  the  cant  and  hy- 
pocrisy which  then  so  strongly  pre- 
vailed, he  got  permission  to  open 
a  sort  of  theatre,  at  Rutland  House, 
in  Charter  House  Yard;  where  he 
began  with  a  representation,  which 
he  called  an  Opera,  but  which  was 
in  reality  quite  a  different  thing. 
This  meeting  with  encouragement, 
he  still  proceeded,  till  at  length, 
growing  bolder  by  success,  he 
wrote,  and  caused  to  be  acted,  se- 
veral regular  plays,  which,  by  the 
great  profits  arising  from  them, 
perfectlv  answered  the  more  im- 
portant part  of  his  design,  that  of 
amending  his  fortunes.  Imme- 
diately after  the  restoration  of 
King  Charles  II.  however,  which 
'brought  with  it  that  of  the  British 
stage  in  a  state  of  unrestrained 
liberty,  Sir  William  D'Avenant 
obtained  a  patent  for  the  represent- 
ation of  dramatic  pieces,  under  the 
title  of  the  Duke's  Theatre,  in  Lin- 
coln's Inn  Fields.  The  first  open- 
ing of  this  theatre  was  with  a  new 
play  of  his  own,  entitled  The  Siege 
of  Rhodes,  in  which  he  introduced 
a  great  variety  of  fine  scenes  and 
beautiful  machinery.  And  here 
it  is  necessary  to  observe,  that  Sir 
William  D'Avenant  was  the  first 
person  to  whom  the  English  stage 
is  indebted  for  those  decorations  j 
of  which  he  brought  over  the  idea 
from  the  theatres  in  France,  his 
long  residence  in  which  country 
had  greatly  improved  his  taste, 
iad  induced  him  to  endeavour  at 


D  A  V 

a  greater  regularity  in  the  conduct, 
and  a  greater  correctness  in  the 
language,  of  his  pieces,  than  the 
manner  of  the  dramatic  writers 
of  his  own  country  had  hitherto 
attained.  Nor  could  he,  among 
other  improvements,  omit  those  of 
decoration  and  scenery,  so  neces- 
sary for  heightening  the  deception, 
on  which  so  great  a  part  of  our 
pleasure  in  this  kind  of  entertain- 
ments constantly  depends,  in  which 
we  now  even  greatly  exceed  our 
neighbours,  but  in  which  at  that 
time  the  English  stage  was  so  bar- 
barously deficient ;  for  although 
it  is  true,  that  in  the  reign  of  King 
Charles  I.  we  read  of  many  dra- 
matic entertainments,  which  were 
accompanied  with  very  rich  sce- 
nery, curious  machines,  and  other 
elegant  embellishments,  and  the 
major  part  of  them  even  con- 
ducted by  that  great  architect,  Inigo 
Jones;  yet  these  were  employed 
only  in  the  masques  and  plays 
represented  at  court,  and  were 
much  too  expensive  for  the  little 
theatres  in  which  plays  were  then 
acted  for  hire.  These  theatres 
were  so  numerous,  there  being  ge- 
nerally six  or  seven  open  at  once 
(we  are  told,  that  there  were 
at  one  time  no  less  than  seventeen 
playhouses  subsisting  in  London, 
small  as  it  then  was  in  comparison 
to  its  present  extent) ,  and  the  prices 
so  extremely  low,  that  they  could 
a  fiord  no  farther  decorations  to 
assist  the  actor's  performance,  or 
elevate  the  spectator's  imagination, 
than  bare  walls,  coarsely  matted, 
or,  at  the  best,  covered  with  tapes- 
try, and  nothing  more  than  a  blan- 
ket, or  a  piece  of  coarse  cloth,  by 
way  of  a  curtain;  in  this  situation 
were  they  in  Shakspeare's  time, 
W'ho,  in  some  of  his  choruses, 
seems  to  have  had  an  apparent  re- 
ference to  it ;  and  not  much  bet- 


174 


D  A  V 

ter  does  it  appear  to  have  been  at 
any  period  before  the  Restoration, 
at  which  time  taste  and  luxury, 
genius  and  gallantry,  elegance  and 
licentiousness,  seem  to  have  made 
a  mingled  entry  into  these  king- 
doms, under  the  auspices  of  a 
witty  and  wicked,  a  merry  and 
mischievous,  monarch.  But  to 
quit  this  digression. 

Sir  William  D'Avenant  conti- 
nued at  the  head  of  his  company 
(which  was  afterwards  removed  to 
a  still  larger  and  more  magnificent 
theatre  built  in  Dorset  Gardens), 
till  the  time  of  his  death,  which 
happened  on  the  17th  of  April 
1608,  in  the  64th  year  of  his  age  ; 
and  in  two  days  afterwards  he  was 
interred  in  Westminster  Abbey, 
very  near  his  rival  for  the  laurel, 
Thos.  May;  leaving  his  son,  Dr. 
Charles  D'Avenant,  mentioned  in 
the  last  article,  his  successor  in  the 
management  of  the  theatre.  On 
his  grave-stone  is  inscribed,  in 
imitation  of  Ben  Jonson's  short 
epitaph,  the  following  words, 
O  rare  Sir  William  Davenant! 

Thus,  after  passing  through 
many  storms  of  difficulty  and  ad- 
versity, he  at  length  spent  the 
evening  of  his  days  in  ease  and 
serenity.  While  living  he  had  the 
happiness  of  being  universally  be- 
loved, and  at  his  death  was  as  uni- 
versally lamented. 

As  a  man,  his  character  appears 
to  have  been,  in  every  respect,  per- 
fectly amiable ;  honour,  courage, 
gratitude,  integrity,  genius,  and 
vivacity,  having  apparently  been 
the  predominant  features  of  his 
mind  ;  and  all  the  historians  seem 
to  allow,  that  he  was  possessed  of 
an  agreeable  person  and  handsome 
face  ;  till,  in  consequence  of  seme 
amorous  dalliances,  whereby  his 
nose  had  greatly  suffered,  the  sym- 
metry of  the  latter  was  consider- 


D  A  V 
ably  disfigured,  and  became  the 
subject  of  much  wit  among  his 
contemporary  poets.  Sir  John 
Suckling  in  particular,  though  his 
friend,  could  not  avoid  touching 
on  it,  in  his  Session  of  (he  Poets, 
in  which  he  has  the  following 
lines : 

Will  D'Avenant,  asham'd  of  a  foolish 

mischance, 
That   he   had    got   lately    travelling   in, 

France, 
Modestly  hop'd  the  handsomeness  of's 

Muse 
Might  any  deformity  about  him  excuse. 

And, 

Surely  the  company  would  have  been 

content, 
If  they  could  have  found  any  precedent ; 
But  in  all  their  records,  in  verse  or  in 

prose, 
There   was  not  one    laureat  -without  a 

nose. 

An  anecdote,  in  prose,  on  Sir 
William's  want  of  nose,  may  here 
be  not  inaptly  introduced,  from 
the  works  of  the  ingenious  Mr. 
Joseph  Miller  :  "  Sir  William, 
"  gomg  along  the  Mews,  was  fol- 
**  lowed  by  a  beggar-woman,  who 
**  often  repeating  that  she  besought 
ft  God  to  preserve  his  eye-sight ; 
"  at  last  he  turned  about,  and 
"  asked  her  why  she  prayed  so 
"  heartily  for  his  eye-sight ;  for 
"  he  was  not  purblind  as  yet. 
"  No,  Sir,  said  she ;  but  if  ever 
"  you  should,  you  have  no  place  to 
"  hang  your  spectacles  on.'r 

We  have  also  heard,  that  SirWil- 
liam  walking  one  day  by  Temple 
Bar,  a  fishmonger's  boy,  in  water- 
ing his  fish  upon  the  stall,  be- 
sprinkled the  laureat,  who,  snuf- 
fling, loudly  complained  of  tha 
abuse.  The  master  begged  the 
knight's  pardon,  and  was  for  chas- 
tising his  servant.  "  // is  very  hard 
"  (said  the  boy)  that  I  must  be 
"  corrected  for  my  cleanliness :  tilt 
"  gentleman  blew  his  nose  upon  my 


175 


D  A  V 

if Jish,  and.  I  was  washing  it  off; 
"  that's  all.'' — The  jest  is  said  to 
have  pleased  Sir  William  so  well, 
that  he  gave  the  boy  a  piece  of 
money  for  his  ingenuity. 

Although  it  is  far  from  our  in- 
clination to  propagate  slander,  or 
add  to  the  perpetuating  of  any  tale 
of  private  calumny,  yet  we  might, 
a.s  biographers,  be  thought  guilty 
of  an  omission  /should  we  not  take 
notice  in  this  place,  that,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  extraordinary 
beauty  of  Mrs.  D'Avenant,  our 
author's  mother,  and  the  frequency 
of  the  visits  of  Shakspeare,  who, 
in  the  course  of  his  journies  into 
Oxfordshire,  used  most  generally 
to  reside  at  the  house  of  her  hus- 
band, who,  as  we  have  before  ob- 
served, kept  an  inn  in  the  city  of 
Oxford  ;  there  have  not  been 
wanting  those  who  have  conjec- 
tured Sir  William  D'Avenant  to 
have  been  not  only  the  poetical, 
but  even  the  natural,  son  of  that 
inimitable  bard :  and,  as  a  fur- 
ther corroboration  of  the  surmise, 
would  insinuate  a  resemblance  of 
feature,  and  urge  the  vivacity  of 
Sir  William's  natural  disposition, 
which  was  diametrically  opposite 
to  the  gloomy  saturnine  complex- 
ion of  Mr.  D'Avenant,  his  sup- 
posed and  legal  parent.  Were  the 
fact  certain,  how  greatly  would 
this  author  appear  the  favourite  of 
the  Muses,  first  to  receive  his 
existence,  and  afterwards  to  owe 
the  continuance  of  it,  to  the  two 
most  exalted  geniuses  that  ever 
lived  !  but,  as  the  circumstances, 
on  which  the  supposition  is  found- 
ed, are  by  no  means  such  as  are 
adequate  to  a  proof;  as  gallantry, 
and  more  especially  adultery,  were 
far  from  the  reigning  or  fashion- 
able vices  of  that  age ;  and  more- 
over, as  Shakspeare  more  particu- 
larly seems  remarkable  for   the 


D  A  V 

chastity  and  amiable  purity  of  his 
morals  ;  we  cannot  think,  that  the 
casting  a  stain  on  the  virtue  of  a 
lady  of  reputation,  and  fixing  a 
blot  on  the  moral  conduct  of  so 
valuable  a  man,  are  sufficiently  au- 
thorized by  the  mere  suggestions 
of  fancy,  or  the  inclination  o£ 
tracing  out  a  bastard  pedigree  in 
the  poetical  line,  for  a  writer, 
whose  own  merit  is  sufficient  to 
ensure  him  the  remembrance  of 
ages  yet  to  come. 

"As  a  poet,  Sir  William's  rank 
seems  as  yet  undetermined.  His 
celebrated  epic  of  Gondibert  was 
rendered  at  the  same  time  the  sub- 
ject of  the  highest  commendation 
and  the  severest  criticism ;  though 
we  must  confess,  that  envy  appears 
to  us  to  have  had  a  much  greater 
share  in  the  latter  than  justice; 
for,  though  the  story  of  it  may  not 
perhaps  be  so  interesting  (and  that 
too  in  great  measure  from  its  not 
being  so  well  known)  as  those  of 
the  Iliad  and  JEneid,  and  that  the 
fetters  of  rhyme,  and  still  more  so 
those  of  stanza  poetry,  lay  it  under 
very  great  restraint ;  yet  it  must  be, 
acknowledged,  even  by  its  strong- 
est opponents,  that  there  runs, 
through  the  whole  of  it  a  subli- 
mity in  the  sentiments,  a  noble- 
ness in  the  manners,  a  purity  in 
the  diction,  and  a  luxuriancy  in 
the  conceptions,  that  would  have 
done  honour  to  any  writer  of  any 
age  or  country  whatsoever.  But 
to  cease  any  further  eulogiuin  on 
this  poem,  as  no  testimony  of  his 
poetical  merits  can  be  considered 
more  valid  than  that  of  Mr.  Dry- 
den,  who  was  not  only  his  con- 
temporary, but  even  wrote  in  con- 
junction with  him,  and  as  nothing 
can  be  stronger  or  more  ampls 
than  the  commendation  that' gen- 
tleman has  given  him,  we  shall 
with  his  words  close  the  present 


175 


D  A  V 

account  of  Sir  William  D'Avenant 
and  his  abilities. 

"  I  found  him  (says  that  author, 
"  in  his  preface  to  The  Tempest) 
"  of  so  quick  a  fancy,  that  nothing 
'*  was  proposed  to  him  on  which 
"  he  could  not  suddenly  produce 
"  a  thought  eKtremely  pleasant 
"  and  surprising  j  and  those  first 
"  thoughts  of  his,  contrary  to  the 
"  old  Latin  proverb,  were  not  al- 
"  ways  the  least  happy ;  and  as 
"  his  fancy  was  quick,  so  likewise 
•*  were  the  products  of  it  remote 
f'  and  new.  He  borrowed  not  of 
'•  any  other ;  and  his  imaginations 
ct  were  such,  as  could  not  easily 
"  enter  into  any  other  man.  His 
"  corrections  were  sober  and  judi- 
"  cious,  and  he  corrected  his  own 
"  writings  much  more  severely 
<:  than  those  of  another  man  ;  be- 
"  stowing  twice  the  time  and  la- 
*'  bour  in  polishing  which  he  used 
**  in  invention." 

Sir  William  D'Avenant's  dra- 
matic works  are  numerous,  but  not 
one  of  them  is  at  present  on  the 
list  of  acting  plays ;  yet  there  are 
certainly  t4iose  among  them  which 
much  better  deserve  that  honour, 
than  many  pieces  that  have  been 
frequently  and  successfully  repre- 
sented. The  titles  of  them  all  may 
be  seen  in  the  following  list : 

1.  Allovine,  King  of  the  Lom- 
bards.    T.  4to.   162(?. 

2.  Cruel  Brother.  T.  4to.  1630. 

3.  Just  Italian.  T.C.  4to.  1630. 

4.  Temple  of  Love.  M.  4 to. 
1634. 

5.  Triumphs  of  the  Prince  D'A- 
mour.  M.  4to.  1635. 

6.  Platonic  Lovers.  Trag.-Com. 
4to.  1636. 

7.  Wits.  C.  4to.  1636.  D.  C. 

8.  Britannia  Triumphans.  M. 
4to.   1637. 

9.  Salmacida  Spolia.  M.  4to. 
lf639. 


D  A  V 

10.  Unfortunate  Lovers.  T.  4to. 
1613. 

1 1 .  Love  and  Honour,  T.  C.  4to. 
I6-I9. 

12.  Entertainment    at    Rutland 
House.  4 to.    1606. 

13.  The  Siege  of  Rhodes.  V.  4to. 
1656 ;   1659. 

14.  The  Cruelty  of  the  Spaniards 
in  Peru.     4to.  1608. 

15.  The  History  of  Sir  Francis 
Drake.  E.  4to.  1659. 

16.  Siege  of  Rhodes.  Play,  two 
4to.   1663. 

Rivals.    T.  C.  4 to.  166S. 
Man  's  the  Master.   C.  4to. 


Fair  Favorite.    T.  C.    fo* 


Parts. 

1/. 

18. 

1669. 

19. 
I673. 

20.  Law  against  Lovers.  T.  C. 
fo.  1673. 

21.  News  from  Plymouth.  C. 
fo.   1673. 

22.  Playhouse  to  le  let.  C.  fo. 
1673. 

23.  Siege.  T.  C.  fo.   1673. 

24.  Distresses.  T.C.  fo.   1673. 

25.  Macbeth.     T.  4to.   1673. 

He  joined  with  Dryden  in  al- 
tering The  Tempest  and  Julius 
Caesar;  and  in  the  Stationers' 
book,  1st  Jan.  1629,  is  entered  a 
play,  written  by  him,  called 

The  Colonell.     N.  P. 

Davenport,  Robert.  Of  this 
author  no  circumstances  are  come 
down  to  the  present  times.  He 
wrote  several  plays,  three  of  which 
only  are  printed,  called, 

1.  A  New  Trick  to  cheat  the 
Devil.     C.  4to.  1639. 

2.  King  John  and  Matilda.  T. 
4to.  1655. 

3.  The  City  Night  Cap  ;  or, 
Crcde  quod  hahes,  et  hahes.  T.  C. 
4to.  1661.  D.  C. 

He  was  also  the  author  of  th« 
following : 

4.  The  Pedler.   C.   1630.  N.  P. 

5.  The  Pirate.  P.  N.  P. 


177 


D  A  V 


G.  The  Fatal  Brothers.     T. 

7.  The  Politic  Queen  ;  or,  Mur- 
ther  will  out.     1660.  K.  P. 

8.  !Tta  Woman  's  mistaken.  See 
Art.  Drue. 

g.  Henry  I.  and  Henri/  II. 

It  does  not  appear  whether  these 
are  one  or  two  plays.  In  the 
book  of  the  Stationers'  Company, 
they  are  said  to  be  written  by 
Shakspeare andDavenport.  Henry 
1  was  in  the  possession  of  Mr. 
Warburton,  Somerset  Herald. 

Davenport  is  also  conjectured  to 
have  written, 

10.  A  Fooi  and  Her  Maidenhead 
soon  parted.     P.  N.  P. 

Davidson,  Rev.  Anthony, 
A.  M.  is  a  native  of  Kelton,  in 
Galloway,  Scotland,  was  educated 
at  Edinburgh,  and  conducted  a  very 
respectable  academy,  for  twenty- 
two  years,  at  Lymington,  in 
Hampshire,  where  he  wrote  the 
following  dramatic  pieces : 

1.  The  Fair  Hibernian.     T. 

2.  The  Shepherd  of  Snowden. 
M.  E. 

3.  Maria.     C.  O. 

4.  A  Voyage  to  Nootka.  C.  O. 

5.  Datamis.     T. 

6.  The  Sailor's  Return.     C.  O. 

7.  St.  Kilda.     F. 

Whether  any  of  these  have  been 
printed,  we  know  not.  Mr.  Da- 
vidson has  published  The  Seasons, 
in  the  Scottish  dialect,  in  imita- 
tion of  Thomson's  ;  a  Sentimental 
Journey,  in  imitation  of  Sterne's  : 
also  Sermons  in  blank  Verse.  Ow- 
ing to  ill  health,  and  some  domes- 
tic afflictions,  he  resigned  his 
school  at  Lymington  in  December 
1805,  with  the  curacy  of  Milton, 
which  he  had  held  many  years,  and 
retired  to  Damerham,  in  Wilts, 
to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  days. 

Davies,  William.  A  gentle- 
man of  this  name  is  author  of  the 
following  dramatic  pieces : 

vol.  x, 


D  A  V 

1.  Better  late  than  never.  C. 
8vo.  17S6. 

2.  Generous  Counterfeit.  C.  8vo. 
1786. 

3.  Man  Of  Honour.  C.  8vo. 
1780'. 

4.  The  Mode.     C.  8vo.  1786. 

5.  News  the  Malady.  C.  Svo. 
1786. 

Written  for  a  private  theatre,  and 
published  together  in  one  volume. 

Dauncy.     See  Dancer. 

Davey,  Samuel.  This  author 
was  born  in  Ireland ;  and,  in  that 
kingdom,  brought  the  following 
pieces  on  the  stage,  viz. 

1.  The  Treacherous  Husband. 
T.  Svo.  1/37. 

2.  JVhittingtonandhisCat.  Op. 
1739. 

Both  on  the  same  evening,  13th 
December  1739,  at  Dublin,  for 
his  own  benefit. 

Davy,  Charles,  M.  A.  This 
gentleman  was  rector  of  One- 
house,  in  Suffolk,  and  of  Top- 
croft,  in  Norfolk;  and,  in  I787, 
published  in  two  volumes  Svo. 
(printed  at  Bury  St.  Edmund's), 
Letters  upon  Subjects  of  Literature, 
&c.  ;  in  the  first  volume  of  which 
are  two  pieces,  written  in  \jQg, 
which  justify  our  introduction  of 
his  name  into  this  work,  viz. 

1.  Balaam.    Oratorio. 

2.  Ruth.    Oratorio. 

In  the  preface  to  his  Letters, 
&c.  Mr.  Davy  says,  "  Most  of 
"  these  little  essays  were  written 
"  many  years  ago ;  they  have 
"  been  collected  from  detached 
"  papers,  and  revised  for  publica- 
"  tion,  as  a  relief  to  the  author's 
"  mind  during  a  confinement  now 
"  of  more  than  eighteen  monthr- 
"  continuance. 

"  It  seemed  good  to  the  Supreme 

'*  Disposer  of  all  things,  to  reduce 

"  him  in  a  moment,  by  an  apo- 

"  plectic   stroke,   from  the  most. 

n 


1/8 


D  A  V 

r<  perfect  state  of  health  and  cheer- 
"  falness,  amidst  his  friends,  to  a 
"  paralytic  permanent  debility  3  a 
"  debility   which   hath   net  only 
"  rixed     him    to    his    chair,    but 
"  brought  on  spasms  so  exquisite- 
"  ly   painful,    and    frequently    so 
*'  unremitted,  as  scarcely  to  allow 
"  a  single  hour's  repose  to  him  for 
ct  many  days  and  nights  together. 
"  Under  the  pressure  of  these  af- 
"  flictions,    God  hath    graciously 
ft  been  pleased  to  continue  to  him 
"  his  accustomed  flow  of  spirits, 
"  and  to  preserve  his  memory  and 
"  his  understanding  in  some  de- 
ie  gree  of  vigour.     These  alleviat- 
i(  ing  blessings  have  enabled  him 
"  to   borrow   pleasure  from  past 
"  times,  in  support  of  the  present; 
"  to  call  back  the  delightful  and 
"  instructing  conversations  he  en- 
"  joyed  in  a  society  of  worthy  and 
"  ingenious  friends,  and  to  resume 
"  those  studies  and   amusements 
"  which  rendered  the  former  part 
"  of  his  life  happy." 

This  gentleman  was  also  the 
author  of  Conjectural  Olserva- 
tions  on  the  Origin  and  Progress 
of  alphabetic  Writing,  8vo.  1/72; 
and  translated  from  the  French, 
jointly  with  F.  Davy  (probably  his 
brother).  Relation  of  a  Journey  to 
the  Glaciers,  in  the  Dutchy  of  Sa- 
voy. By  Monsieur  Bourrit.  -Svo. 
1775.  His  writings  in  general 
evince  a  sound  understanding,  a 
correct  taste,  and  a  benevolent 
heart.  Mr.  Davy  died  April  8, 
1797,  in  his  75th  year. 

Davys,  Mary.  This  female 
author,  born  in  Ireland,  was  mar- 
ried to  a  clergyman,  whom  she  sur- 
vived j  and  after  his  death  kept  a 
coffee-house  at  Cambridge,  where 
she  died.  She  was  a  correspondent 
of  Dean  Sw  ift ;  and  thirty-six  let- 
ters from  him  to  her  and  her  hus- 
band wtre,  a  few  yeajs  ago,  in  the 


DAY 

hands  of  Dr.  Ewen,  of  Cambridge, 
pieces 


She  wrote    two  dramatic 

both  in  the  comic  walk,  entitled, 

1 .  The   Northern    Heiress.     C. 
12mo.   1716;  8vo.   1725. 

2.  Self  Rival.  C.  Svo.  1725. 
Besides  these,  she  wrote  some  no- 
vels, poems,  and  familiar  letters, 
which,  together  with  the  above, 
are  published  in  2  vols.  Svo.  1725, 
under  the  title  of  The  (Forks  of 
Alts.  Davys. 

Day,  John.  This  author,  by 
the  date  of  his  works,  must  have 
flourished  in  the  reigns  of  King 
James  I.  and  King  Charles  I.  and 
wrote  the  following  dramatic 
pieces : 

1.  The  Bristol  Tragedy.  1602. 
N.P. 

2.  Isle  of  Gulls.  C.  4to.   1606. 

3.  Travels  of  Three  English  Bro- 
thers.  Historical  Play.  4to.   160/. 

The  author  was  assisted  in  this 
by  William  Rowley  and  George 
Wilkin*. 

4.  Humour  out  of  Breath.  C. 
4to.   1608. 

5.  Law  Tricks.  C.  4to.  16OS. 

6.  Come  see  a  Wonder.  P.  1623. 
'N.P. 

7.  Parliament  of  Bees.  Masque. 
4to.  1641. 

8.  Blind  Beggar  of  Bethnal 
Green.  C.  4to.  "1659. 

He  also  joined  with  Dekker  in  a 
play,  not  printed,  called 

Guy  of  Warwicke.     1 6 1 Q. 
and  with  Marloe  in 

The  Maidens  Holyday.     1654. 

Tne  precise  time  of  his  birtfi 
and  death,  however,  are  not 
known ;  nor  are  any  farther  par- 
ticulars recorded  concerning  him, 
except  that  he  had  connexion  with 
some  of  his  contemporary  poets  of 
note,  and  had  been  a  student  in 
Caius  College,  Cambridge. 

If,  however,  we  may  believe 
the  following  punning  lines,  writ- 


1/9 


DEK 
ten  by  a  gentleman  of  Lincoln's 
Inn,    on    his   running   away    and 
bilking  his  landlord,  he  was  of  ra- 
ther light  principle  : 

"  Here  night  and  D,>y  conspire  a  secret 

flight ; 
"  For  Day,  't  is  said,  is  gone  away  by 

night. 
"  The  Day  is  past ;  but,  landlord,  where 's 

your  rent  ? 
"  Ycu  might  have  seen,    that  Day  was 

almost  spent. 
"  Day  sold,  at  length   put  off  whate*er 

he  r.i 
"  Though    it  was  ne'er   so  dark,    D^y 

would  be  light." 

Decamp,  Miss.  See  Kemble, 
Mrs. 

Df.kk.kr,  Thomas,  was  a  wri- 
ter in  the  reign  of  King  James  I. 
and,  being  a  contemporary  with 
Ben  Jonson,  became  more  emi- 
nent by  having  a  quarrel  with  that 
great  poet,  than  he  would  perhaps 
otherwise  have  done  from  the  me- 
rit of  his  own  works.  What  the 
original  occasion  of  their  contest 
was,  we  know  not ;  but  Jonson, 
who  certainly  could  never  "  bear 
"  a  rival  near  the  throne,  '  has,  in 
his  Poetaster,  the  Duniiud  of  that 
author,  among  many  other  poets 
whom  he  has  satirized,  been  pe- 
culiarly severe  on  Dekker,  whom 
he  has  characterized  under  the 
name  of  Crispinus.  This  compli- 
ment Dekker  has  amply  repaid  in 
his Satiro-mastix ;  or,  The  Untruss- 
ing  a  humorous  Poet ;  in  which, 
under  the  title  of  Young  Horace, 
he  has  made  Ben  the  hero  of  his 
piece.  As  great  wits,  and  espe- 
cially those  of  the  satirical  kind, 
will  always  have  numerous  ene- 
mies, besides  the  general  fondness 
the  public  have  for  seeing  men  of 
abilities  abuse  each  other,  this  play 
was  extremely  followed;  and,  as  it 
appears  to  have  been  one  of  our 
author's  first  pieces,  it  probably  laid 


DEK 

the   foundation  of  his  fame  as  a 
writer.    Although,  as  we  have  be- 
fore observed,  Dekker  was  but  a 
middling  poet,  yet  he  did  not  want 
his  admirers,  even  among  the  poets 
of  his  time;  some  of  whom  thought 
themselves  not  disgraced  by  writ- 
ing   in    conjunction    with    him  ; 
Webster  having  a  hand  in  three  of 
his  plays,  and  Rowley  and  Forde 
joining    with     him    in     another. 
Richard  Brome  in  particular  used 
always  to  call  him  father;  which  is 
somewhat  the  more  extraordinary, 
considering  the  opposition  subsist- 
ing between  him  and  Jonson,  as 
Brome  had  been  servant  to,  and 
was   a    particular  favourite  with, 
the  laureat.  Mr.  Theo.  Cibber  ob- 
serves, on  this  occasion,  that  it  is 
the  misfortune  of  little  wits,  that 
their  admirers  are  as  inconsiderable 
as  themselves,  and   that  Brome's 
applauses  confer  no  great  honour 
on  those  who  enjoy  them.  Yet,  we 
think,  in  this  censure  he  has  been 
somewhat  too  severe  on  both;  for 
Brome's  merit  was  certainly  not  in- 
considerable, since  it  could  force 
admiration  and  even  public  praise 
from    the   envious    Ben    himself, 
And    although    Langbaine,    who 
writes  with  partiality  to  Ben  Jon- 
son, has  given  the  preference  in  so 
superlative  a  degree  to  those  plays 
in  which  our  author  was  united 
with  others,  against  those  which 
were  entirely  his  own,  yet  we  can- 
not help  thinking  that  in  his  Honest 
Whore,    and  the  comedy  of   Old 
Fortunatus,  both  which  are  allow- 
ed to  be  solely  his,  there  are  beau- 
ties, both  as  to  character,  plot,  and 
language,  equal  to  the  abilities  of 
any  of  those  authors  that  he  was 
ever  assisted  by,  and  indeed  in  the 
former  equal  to  any  dramatic  wri- 
ter (Shakspeare  excepted)  that  this 
island  has  produced. 
J»  2 


180 


DEK 


The  dramatic  pieces  he  was 
concerned  in  may  be  seen  in  the 
ensuing  catalogue : 

1.  OldFortutiatus.CAto.l600. 

2.  Satiro-mastix.  4to.  1602. 
3. 1  Honest  Whore.  C.  FirstPart, 

4.  J4to.  1604.  D.  C.  Second 
Part,  4to.   1630.  D.  C. 

5.  Westward  Hoe.  C.  Assisted 
bj  Webster.  4 to.   16O7. 

6.  Northward' Hoe.  C.  Assisted 
by  Webster.  4to.   1607. 

7.  Wyat's  History.  Assisted  by 
"Webster.  4to.  1607. 

8.  Whore  of  Babylon.  History. 
4to.  1607. 

9.  The  Roaring  Girl.  C.  4  to. 
l6ll.  In  conjunction  with  Mid- 
dleton. 

10.  If  it  le  not  Good,  the  Divel 
is  in  it.     P.  4to.   1612. 

11.  Match  me  in  London.  T.  C. 
4to.   1631. 

12.  Wonder  of  a  Kingdom.  C. 
4to.   1636. 

He  wrote  other  pieces,  not  pub- 
lished, viz. 

1.  Phaeton.     P.   1507- 

1.   Orestes   Furies.     P.    1598. 

3.  The  Triplicity  of  Cuckolds. 
P.   159S. 

4.  Bear  a  Brain.     Play.    1509- 

5.  The  Gentle  Craft.  P.  I099. 

6.  Truth's  Supplication  to  Can~ 
die-light.     P.    1599. 

7.  Christmas  comes  lut  once  a 
Year.      1602. 

8.  A  Medicine  for  a  curst  Wife. 
P.  1602. 

9.  Guy  of  Warivicke.  l6UJ. 
Written  in  conjunction  with  John 
Day. 

10.  The  Jew  of  Venice. 

11.  Gustavus  King  of  Sweth- 
iand. 

12.  The  Tale  of  Jocondo  and 
Astolfo. 

The  two  last  were  once  in  the 
possession  of  Mr.  Warburton. 

13.  The  Spanish  Sonify.    T. 


DEL 

In  the  book  of  the  Stationers' 
Company,  1631  and  1633,  this 
play  is  asserted  to  be  written  by 
Dekker.  To  the  printed  copy  the 
initials  S.  Pi.  are  prefixed,  which 
subsequent  catalogues  have  ex- 
plained to  mean  Samuel  Rowley. 

He  also  assisted  in  the  compo- 
sition of, 

14.  The  Witch  of  Edmonton.  T. 
C.  4to.   1658. 

Phillips  and  Winstanley  have 
ascribed  four  other  plays  to  tbis 
author,  in  conjunction  with  Web- 
ster, viz. 

New  Trick  to  cheat  the  Devil.  C. 
Noble  Stranger.    C, 
Weakest  goeth  to  the  Wall.  T.C. 
Woman  will  have  her  Will.    C. 
In  this,  however,  they  are  mis- 
taken, The  Noble  Stranger  having 
been  written  by  Lewis   Sharpe ; 
The  New  Trick  to  cheat  the  Devil, 
by  Davenport ;  and  the  other  two 
by  anonymous  authors. 

Dekker  was  likewise  author  of 
the  Pageants  of  1603  and  1612. 
See  Vol.  III.  Art.  Pageants. 

The  precise  time  of  this  author's 
birth  and  death  are  not  recorded  ; 
yet  he  could  not  have  died  young  j 
as  the  first  play  we  find  of  his 
writing  was  published  in  1600, 
and  the  latest  date  we  meet  with 
to  any  other  is  1636,  except  The 
Sun's  Darling,  in  which  he  assist- 
ed Forde,  and  which  Langbaine 
observes  was  not  published  till  after 
the  death  of  its  authors. 

Delap,  John,  D.  D.  was  of 
Magdalen  College,  Cambridge, 
where  he  took  the  degrees  of  B.A. 
3746,  M.  A.  1750,  and  S.  T.  P. 
1762.  He  has  a  living  in  Sussex  ; 
and,  besides  An  Elegy  on  the  late 
Duke  of  Rutland,  and  other  Poems, 
is  the  author  of, 

1.  Hecuba.  T.  8vo.  1762. 

2.  The  Royal  Suppliants.  T. 
Svo.  1731. 


1S1 


DEN 


DEN 


3.  The  Captives.  T.  8vo.  1/SO. 

4.  Gunilda.  T.  Svo.   1803. 

5.  The  Usurper.  T.  Svo.   1S03. 

6.  Matilda.  T.  Svo.  1S03. 

7.  Abdalla.     T.  Svo.  1803. 
He  has  also  published  a  Concio 

ad  Clerum,  preached  at  Cambridge. 

Delamayne,  Thomas,  wrote 
one  piece,  called 

Love,  and  Honour.  D.  P.  taken 
from  Virgil,  in  7  Cantos.  12mo. 
1742. 

Dell,  Henry.  This  person 
was  a  bookseller,  first  in  Tower 
Street,  and  afterwards  in  Holborn, 
where  he  died  very  poor.  He 
once  attempted  to  perform  the 
part  of  Mrs.  Termagant  at  Covent 
Garden  Theatre,  but  without  suc- 
cess. He  wrote  and  altered  the 
following  pieces : 

1.  TheSpouter;  or,  The Doulle 
Revenge.     C.  F.  Svo.  1756. 

2.  Minorca.     T.  Svo.   17 56. 

3.  The  Mirrour.  C.  Svo.   1757. 

4.  The  Frenchified  Lady  never 
in  Paris.     Com.  8vo.  1757- 

Denham,  Sir  John.  This  ele- 
gant writer  was  the  only  son  of 
Sir  John  Denham,  knight,  of  Little 
Horsley,  who  was,  at  the  time  of 
our  author's  birth,  which  happened 
in  1615,  lord  chief  baron  of  the 
Exchequer  in  Ireland,  and  one  of 
the  lords  justices  of  that  kingdom  : 
in  consequence  of  which  our  au- 
thor was  born  in  Dublin,  but  was 
brought  over  from  thence  at  two 
years  old,  on  the  promotion  of  his 
father  to  the  rank  of  a  baron  of 
the  Exchequer  in  England. 

His  grammatical  learning  he  re- 
ceived in  London ;  and  in  Michael- 
mas Term,  1631,  was  removed 
from  thence  to  Oxford,  where  he 
wasenteredagentlemancommoner 
of  Trinity  College ;  but,  instead 
of  showing  any  early  dawnings  of 
that  genius  which  afterwards  shone 
forth  in  him,,  he  appeared  a  slow 


dreaming  young  man,  and  one 
whose  darling  passion  was  gaming. 
Here  he  continued  for  three  years  ,- 
when  having  passed  his  examina- 
tions, and  taken  a  degree  as 
Bachelor  of  Arts,  he  came  to 
London,  and  entered  himself  at 
Lincoln's  Inn,  where  he  applied 
pretty  closely  to  the  study  of  the 
law.  Yet  his  darling  vice  was  .still 
predominant ;  and  he  frequently 
found  himself  stripped  to  his  hist 
shilling ;  by  which  he  so  greatly 
displeased  his  father,  that  he  was 
obliged,  in  appearance  at  least,  to 
reform,  for  fear  of  being  absolutely 
abandoned  by  him.  On  his  death, 
however,  being  no  longer  restrain- 
ed by  parental  authority,  he  again 
gave  way  to  it,  and,  being  a  dupe 
to  sharpers,  soon  squandered  away 
several  thousand  pounds. 

In  the  latter  end  of  1641,  how- 
ever, to  the  astonishment  of  every 
one,  his  genius  broke  forth  in  a 
full  blaze  of  meridian  brightness, 
in  that  justly  celebrated  and  ad- 
mired tragedy  The  Sophy,  and  soon 
after  shone  out  again  in  his  poem 
of  Cooper's  Hill.  In  the  same 
year  he  was  pricked  for  high  sheriti 
for  the  county  of  Surrey,  and  made 
governor  of  Farnham  Castle,  for 
the  King.  But  being  possessed  of 
no  great  share  of  military  know- 
ledge, he  presently  quitted  that 
post,  and  retired  to  His  Majesty 
at  Oxford. 

And  now  the  grand  rebellion 
having  broken  out  in  its  full  force, 
he  showed  the  warmest  attachment 
to  the  royal  family,  and  in  the 
course  of  their  unhappy  affairs 
became  of  signal  service  to  them. 
In  the  year  1647,  when  the  King 
had  been  delivered  into  the  hands 
of  the  army,  he  undertook,  on  the 
behalf  of  the  Queen-  mother,togain 
access  to  His  Majesty,  which  he 
found  means  to  do  by  the  assistance 
n3 


182 

DEN  DEN 

of  Hugh  Peters.    On  this  occasion  exile,  used  frequently  to  give  Mr. 

the  King  conversed  with  him  in  an  Denham  arguments  to  write  on. 
unreserved  manner  with  regard  to         This  ingenious-  gentleman  died 

his  affairs,  and  intrusting  him  with  at  an  office  he  bad  built  fur  him- 

nine  cyphers  commanded  him  to  self,  near  Whitehall,  March    10, 

stay  privately  in  London ,  in  order  l6't)3,  aetatis  .53,  and  was  buried  in 

to  receive  all  his    letters    to  and  Westminster  Abbey,    leaving  be- 

from  his  correspondents,  all  which  hind  him,  asnong  the  several  works 

were   constantly   deciphered   and  whereby  his  poetical  fame  stands 

undecvphered  by  Mr.  Cowley,  at  established,    only     one    dramatic 


thattime  with  theQueen-motherin 
France.  This  trust  he  performed 
with  great  punctuality  and  safety 
for  some  time,  till  at  length  Mr. 


one,   viz. 

The  Sophy.  T.  fo.    1642;   Svo. 
1671. 

As  a  poet  we  need  only  refer  to 


Cowley's  hand  being  known,  this  the  testimonials  of  many  writers, 

affair  was   discovered,    and    Mr.  particularly  Dryden  and  Pone,  in 

Denham    obliged    to     make    his  his  favcnr.     As  to  his  moral  cha- 

escape  to  France.   In  164S  he  was  racter,  lie  has  had  no  vice  imputed 

sent    ambassador,     together    with  to   him  but  that  of  gaming ;  and 

Ford  Crofts,  to  Poland,  where  he  although  authors  have  been  silent 

succeeded  so  well  as  to  bring  back  as   to  his  virtues,  yet  if  we  may 

ten  thousand  pounds  for  the  King,  judge  from  his  works,  he  was  a 

levied  there  on  His  Majesty's  Scot-  good-natured    man    and    an    easy 


tish  subjects. 

About  lfJ52  he  returnee!  to  Eng- 
land, and  resided  about  a  year  at 
the  Earl  of  Pembroke's,  at  Wilton, 
having   quite  exhausted   his  own 


companion  ;  and  from  his  actions 
it  appears  that  he  was  one  of  strict 
honour  and  integrity,  and,  in  the 
day  of  danger  and  tumult,  of  un- 
shaken loyalty  to  the  suffering  in- 


fortune  by  his  passion  for  gaming,  terest  oi'  his  Sovereign 
and  the  expenses  he  had  been  at  Denis,  Charles,  was  the  son 
during  the  civil  war.  It  does  not  of  the  Reverend  Jacob  Denis,  a 
clearly  appear  what  became  of  him  French  clergyman,  born  at  Rocbe- 
between  that  time  and  the  Resto-  foucaull,  who  fled  hither  onaccount 
ration,  though  it  is  most  probable  of  his  religion.  He  was  brother 
he  went  over  again  to  France,  and  of  Admiral  Sir  Peter  Denis,  and 
resided  there  till  King  Charles  IP's  wrote  some  fables  and  poetical 
return  from  St.  Germain's  to  Jer-  pieces,  which  were  favourably  re- 
sey ;  when  he  was  immediately  ceived  by  the  public.  Pie  is  also 
appointed,  without  any  solicitation,  said  to  have  been  the  translator  of 
surveyor-general  of  all  His  Ma-  The  Siege  of  Calais.  T.  Svo. 
jesty's  buildings,  and.,  at  the  coro-  \~'J5. 
nation  of  that  monarch,  made 
Knight  of  the  Bath. 

On  some  discontent  arising  from 
a  second  marriage,  be  for  a  little 
time  lost  his  senses;  bin  on  his  re- 
covery continued  in  great  esteem 
at  court  for  his  poetical  abilities, 
especially  with  the  King,  who  was 


He  died  about  June  1772,  and 
his  friend,  Captain  Thompson, 
wrote  the   following  epitaph   for 

him  : 

Beneath  this  s'or.e  Chirks  Denis  lies, 

l.aitin.ely  merry,  early  wise  : 

That  none,  excepting  they  were 

Ever  discover'^  he  was  1  1 

r!is  fame  a  monument  shall  bej 


•   . 


fond  of  poetry,   and,  during  his     That  ag  '  :'     "        ■ 


198 


D  E  I\ 


Shall  join  with  pleasure  in  the  strain, 
And  boast  of  England's  sweet  Fontaine  ; 
Shall  join  with  me — that  one  we  had 
Both  good  and  wise — 'mongst  numbers 
bad. 
Dennis,  John.     This  gentle- 
man, who  though  he  has  left  many 
dramatic  pieces  behind  him,  was 
much  less  celebrated  for  them  than 
for  his  critical    writings,  was  the 
son  of  an  eminent  sadler,  a  citizen 
of  London,  in    which   metropolis 
our  author  was  born,  in  the  vear 
16.57. 

He  received  the  first  branches  of 
education  under  Dr. 'Horn,  at  the 
great  school  at  Harrow  on  the  Hill, 
where  he  commenced  acquaintance 
and  intimacy  with  many  young 
noblemen  and  gentlemen,  who  af- 
terwards made  considerable  figures 
in  public  aflairs ;  whereby  be  laid 
the  foundation  of  a  very  strong  and 
extensive  interest,  which  might, 
but  for  his  own  fault,  have  been  of 
infinite  service  to  him  in  future  lite. 
From  Harrow  he  went,  in  1&J5, 
to  Cains  College,  Cambridge, 
where,  after  his  proper  standing, 
he  took  the  degree  of  bachelor  of 
arts.  He  was  expelled  the  college 
for  literally  attempting  to  stab  a 
person  in  the  dark ;  after  which 
he  made  the  tour  of  Europe,  and 
in  the  course  of  it  he  conceived 
such  a  detestation  for  despotism,  as 
confirmed  him  still  more  strongly 
in  those  Whig  principles  which  he 
had  from  his  infancy  imbibed. 

As  the  editor  of  the  Biographia 
liritannica  has  suggested  doubts  of 
the  fact  here  stated,  we  subjoin 
an  entry  from  the  Gesta  book  of 
Cains  College : 

"  Mar.  4,  lG30.  At  a  meeting 
"  of  the  Master  and  Fellows,  Sir 
"  Dennis  mulcted  3/.  his  schob.r- 
"  ship  taken  away,  and  he  sent  out 
"  of  college,  for  assaulting  and 
*'  wounding  Sir  Glenham  with  a 
:rd." 


D  E  N 

On  his  return  to  England,  he 
became  early  acquainted  with 
Dryden,  Wycherley,  Congreve, 
and  Southern,  whose  conversation, 
inspiring  him  with  a  passion  for 
poetry,  and  a  contempt  for  every 
attainment  that  had  not  some  rela- 
tion to  the  Belles  Lettres,  diverted 
him  from  the  acquisition  of  any 
profitable  art,  or  the  exercise  of 
any  profession. 

This,  to  a  man  who  had  not  an 
independent  income,  was  undoubt- 
edly a  misfortune.  However,  the 
zeal  he  showed  for  the  Protestant 
succession  having  recommended 
him  to  the  patronage  of  the  Duke 
of  Marlborough,  that  nobleman 
procured  him  a  place  in  the 
customs,  worth  120/.  per  annum, 
which  he  enjoyed  for  some  years, 
till  from  profuseness  and  want  of 
economy  he  was  reduced  to  the 
necessity  of  disposing  of  it  to  satisfy 
some  very  pressing  demands.  By 
the  advice  of  Lord  Halifax,  how- 
ever, he  reserved  to  himself,  in  the 
sale  of  it,  an  annuity  fur  a  term  ot' 
years,  which  term  he  outlived, 
and  was,  in  the  decline  of  his  life, 
reduced  to  extreme  necessity.  Mr. 
Theo.  Cibber  relates  an  anecdote 
of  him,  which  we  cannot  avoid  re- 
peating, as  it  is  not  only  highly 
characteristic  of  the  man  whose 
affairs  we  are  now  considering,  but 
also  a  striking  and  melancholy  in- 
stance, among  thousands,  of  the 
distressful  predicaments  into  which 
men  of  genius  and  literary  abili- 
ties are  perhaps  apter  than  any 
others  to  plunge  themselves,  by 
paying  too  slight  an  attention  to 
the  common  concerns  of  life,  and 
their  own  most  important  interest;. 
"  After  he  was  worn  out,"  says 
that  author,  •  with  age  and  po- 
"  verty,  he  resided  within  the 
".  verge  of  the  court,  to  prevent 
"  danger  from  his  creditors.  One 
N  4 


1S4 


DEN 

Saturday  night,  he  happened  to 


saunter  to  a  public  house,  which, 
"  in  a  short  time,  he  discovered 
.".  to  be  t  of  the  verge.  He 
"  was  sitting  in  an  open  drinking- 
tt  |  3  -M;  r,.-.,  ian  0f  a  suspicious 
,c  appears  ice  i.  ned  to  come 
"  in.   There  w  1,mg  about 

ff  the  man  which  den  I     Mr. 

"  Dennis,  that  he  was   a   bailiff. 
"  This  struck  him  with  a  panic  ; 
*'  he  was  afraid  his  liberty  was  now 
"  at  an  end;  he  sat  in  the  utmost 
"  solicitude,  but  durst  not  offer  to 
"  stir,  lest  he   should   be   seized 
"  upon.  After  an  hour  or  two  had 
*.*  passed  in  this  painful  anxiety, 
"  at  last  the  clock  struck  twelve ; 
"  when  Mr.  Dennis,  in  an  ecstacy, 
'-'  cried  out,  addressing  himself  to 
**  the  suspected  person,  Now,  Sir, 
tl  bailiff' or  no  laiii(f,   I  don't  care 
*'  a  far  thin  si  for  you,  you  have  no 
"  power  now.   The  man  was  asto- 
"  nished  at  his  behaviour;  and, 
"  when  it  was  explained  to  him, 
"  was  so  much  affronted  with  the 
i(  suspicion,    that   had    not    Mr. 
"  Dennis  found  his  protection  in 
11  age,    he  would  probably   have 
"  smarted  for  his  mistaken  opinion 
"  of  him."  A  strong  picture  of  the 
effects  of  fear  and  apprehension  in 
a  temper  naturally  so  timorous  and 
jealous  as  Mr.  Dennis's ;  of  which 
the   reader    may   see    two    more 
whimsical  instances  in  the  second 
volume  of  this  work,  under  the 
tragedy  of  Liherty  Asserted. 

Mr.  Dennis,  partly  through  a 
natural  peevishness  and  petulance 
of  temper,  and  partly  perhaps  for 
the  sake  of  procuring  the  means 
of  subsistence,  v.  as  continually  en- 
gaged in  a  paper  war  with  his  con- 
temporaries, whom  he  ever  treated 
with  the  utmost  severity ;  and 
though  many  of  his  observations 
were  judicious,  yet  he  usually  con- 
veyed them  in  language  so  scur- 


D  E  N 

rilous   and  abusive,   as  destroyed 
their   intended  effect;  and  as  his 
attacks  were  almost  always  on  per- 
sons of  superior  abilities  to  himself, 
viz.    Add-on,  Steele,  and   Pope, 
their   replies   usually   turned   the 
popular  opinion  so  greatly  against 
him,  that,  by  irritating  his  testy 
temper  the  more,  it  rendered  him 
a  perpetual  torment  to  himself; 
till  at  length,  after  a  long  life  of 
vicissitudes,  disappointments,  and 
turmoils,    rendered   wretched   by 
indiscretion,  and  hateful  by  male- 
volence,  having  outlived  the   re- 
version of  his  estate,  and  being  re- 
duced to  distress,  from  which  his 
having  been  daily  creating  enemies 
had  left  him  scarcely  any  hope  of 
relief,  he  was  compelled  to,  what 
must  be  the  most  irksome  station 
that  can  be  conceived  in  human 
life,  the  receiving  obligations  from 
those  whom  he  had  been  continual- 
ly treating  ill.     In  the  very  close 
of  his  days  a  play  was  acted  for 
his  benefit,  at  the  little  theatre  in 
the  Haymarkel,  procured  through 
the    united     interests    of    Messrs. 
Thomson,  Mallet,  arid  Pope" ;   the 
last  of  whom,  notwithstanding  the 
gross  manner  in  which  Mr.  Dennis 
had  on  many  occasions  used  him, 
and   the   long   warfare    that   had 
subsisted  between  them,  interested 
himself  very  warmly  for  him,  and 
even  wrote  an  occasional  prologue 
to  the  play,  which  was  spoken  by 
Mr.  Cibb'er,  jun. 

Yet  our  admiration  of  Mr. 
Pope's  generosity  will  be  somewhat 
abated,  when  we  recollect  that 
this  boasted  prologue  was  designed 
throughout  as  a  sneer  on  Dennis. 
His  vanity  however  was  so  strong, 
or  his  intellects  were  become  so 
enfeebled,  that  he  did  not  perceive 
its  tendency,  though  he  stood  be- 
hind the  scenes  and  heard  it  de- 
livered.    Indeed,  as  Count  Basset 


is: 

D  E  N 

says,  this  was  an  act  of  most  "  lin- 
"  merciful  mercy "  in  the  author 
of  The  Dunciad,  whose  charity,  on 
the  present  occasion  at  least,  w;:s 
dispensed  with  a  cynic  hand. 

Not  iong  after  this,  viz.  on  the 
6th  of  J  nuary  1733,  Mr.  Dennis 
died,  being  then  in  the  7/th  year 
of  his  age. 

His  character  as  a  man  may  be 
sufficiently  gathered  from  the  cir- 
cumstances we  have  related  of  him. 
As  a  writer,  he  certainly  was  pos- 
sessed of  much  erudition,  and  a 
considerable  share  of  genius ;  and 
had  not  his  self-opinion,  of  which 
perhaps  no  man  ever  possessed  a 
larger  share,  induced  him  to  aim 
at  the  empire  of  wit,  for  which  he 
was  by  no  means  qualified,  and  in 
consequence   thereof  led  him   to 
treat  every  one  as  a  rebel  who  did 
not    subscribe    to   his    pretended 
right,  he  would  probably  have  been 
allowed,  and,  from  the  enjoyment 
of  an  easy  mind,  possibly  possessed 
more  merit  than  appears  in  many 
of  his  writings.     In  prose,   he  is 
far  from  a  bad  writer,  where  abuse 
and    personal   scurrility  does  not 
mingle  itself  with    his  language. 
In  verse,  he  is  extremely  unequal, 
his  numbers  being  at  some  times 
spirited  and  harmonious,  and  his 
subjects   elevated    aud    judicious, 
and  at  others  flat,  harsh,  and  pu- 
erile.    As  a  dramatic  author,   he 
certainly  deserves  not  to  be  held 
in   any  consideration.     His  plots, 
excepting  that  of  his  Plot  and  no 
Plot,  which  is  a  political  play,  are 
all   borrowed,  yet  in  the  general 
not  ill-chosen.     But  his  characters 
are  ill-designed  and  unfinished,  his 
language  prosaical,  flat,  and   un- 
dramatic,  and  the  conduct  of  his 
principal  scenes  heavy,   dull,  and 
unimpassioned.     In  short,  though 
he  certainly  had  judgment,  ic  is 
evident  he  had  no  execution  ;  and 


DER 

so  much  better  a  critic  is  he  than 
a  dramatist,  that  we  cannot  help 
subscribing  to  the  opinion  of  a 
gentleman,  who  said  of  him,  that 
he  was  the  most  complete  instruc- 
tor for  a  dramatic  poet;  since  he 
could  teach  him  to  distinguish  good 
plays  by  his  precepts,  and  bad  ones 
by  his  examples. 

His  dramatic  pieces  are  nine  in 
number,  as  may  be  seen  in  the 
following  list : 

1 .  Plot  and  no  Plot.  C.  4to. 
N.D.   [1697-] 

2.  Rinaldo  and  Arm'ula.  T.  4to. 
I699. 

3.  Jphigenia.     T.  4to.  1/00. 

4.  Comical  Gallant.  C.  4to. 
1702. 

5.  Liberty  asserted.  T.4to.l704. 

6.  Gibraltar.     C.  4to.   1705. 

7.  Orpheus  and  Euridice.  M. 
4lo.   1707. 

8.  Appius  and  Virginia.  Trag. 
-Ho.    N.  D.   [1709.] 

9-  Invader  of  his  Country.  T. 
Svo.  1720. 

Dent,  John,  was  editor  of  a 
newspaper,  long  since  extinct, 
called  The  London  Courant ;  and 
besides  a  novel,  called  The  Force  of 
Love,  was  author  of  the  following 
dramatic  pieces : 

1.  The  Candidate.  F.  Svo.  1782. 

2.  Too  Civil  by  Half.  F.  8vo. 
1783. 

3.  Receipt  Tax.    F.  Svo.  1783. 

4.  The  Lawyer's  Panic.  Prel. 
Svo.   1785. 

5.  The  Bastille.  Ent.  8vo.  N.D. 
[17S9-] 

6.  The  Telegraph.  Com.  Piece. 
Svo.    1795. 

7.  The  Statesman.  Farce.  N.  P. 

8.  The  Tarantula.     F.  Lost. 
Mr.  Dent  died  a  few  years  since ; 

but  we  know  not  the  precise  time 
at  which  his  death  happened. 

Derrick,  Samuel.  This  gen- 
tleman was  a  native  of  Ireland,  and 


13(5 


DEV 
was  bom  in  the  year  1724.     Ee- 
ing  intended  for  trade,  he  was  for 
some  time  placed  with  a  linen- 
draper   in    Dublin  ;  but   disliking 
his  business,  he  quitted  it  and  his 
country  about  the  year  1/4B,  and 
commenced    author    in    London. 
Soon  after  he  arrived  at  the  me- 
tropolis, he  indulged  an  inclina- 
tion which  he  had  imbibed  for  the 
stage,  and  appeared  in  the  charac- 
ter of  Gloucester,  in  Jane  Shore, 
at   the  Haymarket,  but  with   so 
little   success,  that  he   never  re- 
peated the  experiment.   After  this 
attempt   he    subsisted   chiefly  by 
his  writings;  but  being  of  an  ex- 
pensive disposition,  running  into 
the  follies  and  excesses  of  gallan- 
try and  gaming,  he   lived  almost 
all  his  time  the  slave  of  depend- 
ence,   or    the   sport    of   chance. 
His  acquaintance  with  people  of 
fashion,  on   Beau   Nash's   death, 
procured  him   at  length  a  more 
permanent  subsistence.     He  was 
chosen  to  succeed  that  gentleman 
in  his  offices  cf  master  of  the  ce- 
remonies at  Bath  and  Tunbridge. 
By  the  profits  of  these  he  might 
have  been  enabled  to  place  him- 
self, with  economy,  in  a  less  pre- 
carious slate ;  but  his  want  of  con- 
duct continued  after  he  was  in  the 
possession    of  a   considerable   in- 
come, by  which  means  he  was  at 
the  time  of  his  death,  March  l/()9, 
as  necessitous  as  he  had  been  at 
any  period  of  his  life. 

He  translated  one  piece  from 
the  French  of  the  King  of  Prussia, 
called 

Sylla.  D.  E.  Svo.  1'53. 
Deverell,  Mrs.  M.  A  lady 
of  Glouceslersliire,  who,  under 
the  patronage  of  the  Dutchess 
of  Rutland,  published  one  play, 
called 

Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  Hist. 
Trag.  Svo,   1792. 


D  I  B 

Diedin,  Charles,  was  born  at 
Southampton,  about  the  year  1748, 
and  educated  at  Winchester,  with 
a    view    to  the  clerical   function. 
His   propensity   for    music,  how- 
ever, distracted  his  attention  from 
every  thing  else,  and  brought  him 
to  town  at   the  early  age  cf  fif- 
teen.   Mr.  Dibdin  appears  to  have 
exhibited  a  remarkable  precocity 
of  intellect  -,  for  at  sixteen  years 
of  age  he  brought  out  an  opera,  of 
two  acts,  at  Covent  Garden,  call- 
ed The  Shepherd's  Artifice,  writ- 
ten   and    composed    by    himself. 
Unwilling,  however,  to  commence 
too  early  a  career  as  a  writer,  he 
contented  himself,    till  after   the 
run  of  The  Jubilee,  with  compos- 
ing music  for  others.     Love  in  the 
City,    Lionel  and    Clarissa,     The 
Padlock,  The  Jubilee,  The  Instal- 
lation   of  the   Garter,    and    The 
Christmas  Tale,  are  a  few  of  the 
many   pieces   of  which    he    only 
composed  the  music.     His  com- 
mencement as  an  actor,  we  believe, 
v.  as  as  Damaetas,  in  Midas.     He 
afterwards,    however,    performed 
other  characters;   we  may  particu- 
larly mention  that  he  was  the  ori- 
ginal Mungo,  in  The  Padlock,  in 
the  year  1/6S;   in  which,  as  well 
as  in  Ralph,   in  The  Maid  of  the 
Mill,  he  displayed*  such  originality 
of  conception,  that  his  early  se- 
cession  from  the  stage  has  often, 
been  lamented.     Of  his  Mung  , 
Mr.  Victor,  who  must  be  allowed 
to  have   been   a  judge   of    these 
matters,  says,  "  It  is  as  complete 
"  a  low  character  as  ever  was  ex- 
"  hibited."     The  author,  Bicker- 
staffe,  in  his  preface,  has  this  pas- 
sage :   "  The  music  of  this  piece 
"  being    extremely    admired    by 
"  persons   of  the  first   taste   and 
"  distinction,  it  would  be  injustice 
"  to  the  extraordinary  talents  of 
if  the  young  man  who  assisted  me 


D  I  B 

n  in  it,  was  I  not  to  declare.,  that 
"  it  is,  under  my  direction,  the 
"  entire  composition  or"  Mr.  Dib- 
"  din  ;  whose  admirable  perform- 
"'  ance,  in  the  character  of  Mungo, 
"  does  so  much  credit  to  himself 
"  and  me ;  as  well  as  to  the  gen- 
"  tleman  whose  penetration  could 
"  distinguish  neglected  genius, and 
'*  who  lias  taken  pleasure  in  pro- 
et  ducing  it  to  the  public." 

When  Mr.  Bibdin  retired  from 
the  stage,  the  Circus  was  built  for 
him  ;  and  he  was  manager  of  it 
for  two  seasons.  'He  afterwards 
launched  a  new  species  of  enter- 
tainment, which  he  continued  for 
about  twenty  years;  himself  the 
sole  writer,  composer,  and  per- 
former. These  exhibitions  varied 
their  titles,  as  well  as  their  mat- 
ter, from  time  to  time;  but  we 
can  recall  to  o.ir  recollection  the 
following  :  The  Whim  of  the  Mo- 
ment, The  Oddities,  The  Quizzes, 
The  Wags,  Private  Theatricals, 
Castles  in  the  Air,  Great  News, 
The  General  Election,  A  Tour  to 
the  Land's  End,  Will-o'-tli-Wisp, 
Tom  Wilkins,  The  Sphynx,  The 
Frisk,  Most  Votes,  Christmas  Gam- 
bols, King  and  Queen.  Valentine's 
■Day,  New  Year's  Gifts,  Britain 
Strike  Home,  Heads  aftd  Tails, 
The  Frolic,  Datchet  Mead,  The 
Professional  Volunteers,  Rent  Day, 
Commodore  Pennant,  &c.  &:c. 

Among  other  publications  of  this 
gentleman's,  we  have  to  record  the 
following:  The  Devil,  2  vols.  8vo. 
about  1785  ;  The  Bystander,  4to. 
about  1787;  Musical  Tour,  4to. 
1 78/  ;  Hannah  Hewitt,  a  novel, 
about  1702;  The  Younger  Brother, 
a  novel,  about  17Q3  ;  History  of 
the  Stage,  5  vols.  8vo.  about  1795  ; 
Professional  Life  of  Mr.  Dibdin, 
4  vols.  8vo.  1802 ;  Observations  on 
a  Tour  through  England  and  Scot- 
land, with  views,  &c.  4to.  1803.; 


187 

D  I  B 

Henry  Hooka,  a  novel,  180G;  The 
Public  Undeceived,  1807;  The  Eng- 
lish Pythagoras ;  The  Musical  Men- 
tor ;  Music  Epitomized  ;  The  Yeo- 
man's Friend;  The  Lion  and  the 
Hater  Wagtail;   &c.  &c. 

For  a  few  years  Mr.  Dibdin  en- 
joyed a  pension  from  Government 
of  200/.   a  year;  on  a  change  of 
administration,  this  was   cut  off; 
but  we  have  heard  that  it  has  been 
recently  restored.  Necessity,  how- 
ever, drove  him  a  few  years  ago  to 
open  a  shop  in  the  Strand  for  the 
sale  of  music  and  musical  instru- 
ments; but  in  this  he  was  unfor- 
tunate, and  a  commission  of  bank- 
ruptcy   issued   against   him.     To 
this  he  appeared,  and  laid  such  a 
simple,    candid,    and   satisfactory 
statement  of  his  affairs  before  the 
commissioners  and  his  creditors,  as 
redounded   greatly  to  his  honour, 
and   procured  him  an  early  grant 
of  his  certificate.     He  was  now,, 
however,    left    a    destitute    man; 
when    a   few   gentlemen,     almost 
wholly  unknown  to  him,  held  a 
private  meeting,    at  which    they 
made  a  contribution  for  him,  and 
issued  an  invitation  to  the  public 
to  join    their  laudable  endeavours 
in  behalf  of  a  man  in  the  vale  of 
years,  and  immersed  in  difficulties, 
but  to  whom  the  army,  the  navy, 
and  the  nation   iti  general,    were 
deeply  indebted  for  his  Tyrtaean 
strains ;  as  .veil  as  for  his  multi- 
tudinous compositions,  calculated 
to  inspire  a  love  of  the  country, 
and  a  zeal   to  protect  it  in  a  time 
of  imminent  danger.     The  result 
was,  that  such  a  sum  was  raised, 
as,  though  far  below  the  merits  of 
the  case,  enabled  certain  trustees 
to  procure  a  moderate  annual  pro- 
vision  for  Mr.  Dibdin,  his    wife, 
and  daughter,  during  his  life  ;   the 
principal  snm  being  reserved  for 
the  two  latter  after  his  decease. 


TS3 


DIB 

The  following  is  a  list  of  his 
dramatic  pieces : 

1.  The  Shepherd's  Artifice.  D.P. 
Svo.  1765. 

2.  Damon  and  Phillida.     Alter- 
ed from  Cibber.  CO.  8vo.  176'S. 

3.  The  Mischance.    Int.    1772. 

4.  The  Ladle.  Ent.    Svo.  17/3. 

5.  The  Wedding  Ring.      C  O. 
8vo.  1773. 

6.  The  Deserter.     M.  D.     Svo. 
1773. 

7.  The  Waterman;  or,  The  First 
of  August.     B.  O.     Svo.  1/7-i. 

8.  The  Caller ;  or,  ^    Wife  of 
ten  Thousand.     B.  O.     Svo.  1774. 

9.  The  Metamor piloses.     C.  O. 
Svo.  1776. 

10.  The  Seraglio.     C  O.    Svo. 
1776. 

11.  The  Quaker.     C.  O.     Svo. 
1777- 

12.  Poor  Vulcan.     Burl.     Svo. 
1778. 

13.  The  Gipsies.     CO.     Svo. 
1778. 

14.  Rose  and  Colin.  C.  O.  8vo. 
1778. 

15.  The  Wives  revenged.    C  O. 
Svo.  1778. 

16.  Annette  and  Lubin.     CO. 
Svo.  177S. 

17.  The  Chelsea  Pensioner.  CO. 
Svo.  1779. 

18.  The  Mir r our ;  or,  Harlequin 
every   where.     Pant.   Burl.      Svo. 

1779- 

19.  The  Touchstone.  Pant.  1770. 

N.  P. 

20.  The  Shepherdess  of  the  Alps. 
C.  O.     Svo.  17SO. 

21.  Harlequin   Freemason.      P. 
1780. 

22.  The  Islanders.    CO.    Svo. 
17S1. 

23.  Jupiter  and  Alcmena.    Burl. 
1781.     N.  P. 

24.  Marriage  Act.  F.  8vo.l7Sl. 

25.  None  so  blind  as  those  who 
zvon't  see.     M.  F.    1782.     N.  P. 


D  I  B 

26.  The  Graces.  Int.  Svo,  1782. 

27.  The  Cestus.  Ser.  8vo.  1783. 

28.  Harlequin  the  Phantom  of  a 
Day.     P.      Svo.  1783. 

29.  The  Lancashire  Witches. 
Pant.     17S3. 

30.  Long  Odds.  Ser.  Svo.  178*. 

31.  Clump  and  Cudden.  C  M. 
P.     Svo.  1785. 

32.  A  Game  at  Commerce.  C. 
17S5.     N.  P. 

33.  Liberty  Hall.  Mus.  Piece. 
Svo.  17S5. 

34.  Harvest  Home.  C  O.  Svo. 
1787. 

35.  A  loyal  Effusion.  D.  Ent. 
1797.     N.'P. 

36.  Hannah  Hewitt.  M.E.  179S. 
N.  P. 

37.  The  Broken  Gold.  B.  Op. 
1S06.     N.  P. 

38.  The  Saloon.  M.Ent.   N.  P. 

39.  The  Statue.  M.  Ent.    N.  P. 

40.  She  \<r  Mad  for  a  Husband. 
M.  Ent.     N.  P. 

41.  The  False  Dervise.  Int.  N.P. 

42.  Land  of  Simplicity.     N.  P. 

43.  The  Milkmaid.    Ser.    N.P. 

44.  Pandora.     M.Ent.     N.P. 

45.  Passions.     M.Ent.     N.P. 
4o.  Refusal  of  Harlequin.  Pant* 

N.  P. 

47.  Regions  of  Accomplishment. 
M.Ent      N.P. 

Dibdin,  Charles,  Jun.  son  of 
the  above  mentioned  gentleman,  is 
a  proprietor  and  acting-manager  of 
Sadler's  Wells  ;  for  the  entertain- 
ments at  which  place  he  has  writ- 
ten numberless  songs  &c.  as  well 
as  the  following  pieces  : 

1.  Claudine.    Burl.    Svo.  1801. 

2.  Goody  Two  Shoes.  Pant.  Svo. 
N.D. 

3.  Barbara  Allen.  B.  S.  Songs 
only  printed.    Svo.    N.  D. 

4.  The  Great  Devil.  Spect.  Svo. 
1801. 

5.  Old  Man  of  the  Mountains. 
Svo.    N.D. 


189 


DIB 


D  I  B 


Dibdin,  Thomas.    This  is  an- 
other son  of  the  Mr.  Dibdin  rirst 
mentioned,  born  March  21,  177 l- 
After  receiving  a  liberal  education, 
he  was  articled  as  an  apprentice  to 
Sir  Wm,  Rawlins,  then  in  business 
as  an  auctioneer  and  upholsterer, 
and  who  served  the  office  of  Sheriff 
of  London  in    1S01.     A  growing 
inclination  for  whatever  related  to 
the  stage  at   length   became   too 
strong  for  resistance ;    and  at  the 
age  of  eighteen  he  left  his  busi- 
ness, assumed  the  name  of  Mer- 
chant; commenced  actor  and  scene- 
painter  at  East  Bourne,  in  Sussex, 
and  then  visited  Canterbury,  Ro 
Chester,  &c.   He  afterwards  joined 
Messrs.  Banks  and  Ward,  at  Liver- 
pool,  and   continued    with    them 
three  years,  performing  alternately 
at  Manchester,  Chester,  and  Li- 
verpool.     It  was  at  Manchester 
that  he  made  his  first  attempt  as  a 
dramatic  writer  by  the  production 
of  a  farce  called  The  Mad  Guar- 
dian ;  or,  Sunshine  after  Rain. 

In  1793,  he  married  Miss  Hil- 
liar,  of  the  same  theatre,  and  for- 
merly of  the  Edinburgh  and  New- 
castle company ;  and  the  year  fol- 
lowing made  an  engagement  for 
himself  and  his  wife  at  that  summer 
theatre,  where  he  continued  four 
years:  but  his  winter  seasons  were 
chiefly  passed  at  Canterbury,  Ro- 
chester, &c.  For  his  own  benefit 
at  Maidstone,  July  12,  1793,  he 
brought  out  his  Jew  and  the  Doc- 
tor ;  the  reception  of  which  was 
so  favourable,  that,  on  the  report 
of  it  to  Mr.  Harris  by  Mr.  C. 
Bicknell,  solicitor  to  the  Admi- 
ralty, an  agreement  followed  to 
produce  the  piece  the  ensuing 
winter  at  Covent  Garden;  at  which 
also  Mr.  Dibdin  was  engaged  as 
an  actor  at  5l.  per  week.  The 
success   of  this   piece  (in   which 


Mr.  Dibdin  twice  performed  the 
part  of  Abednego,  on  occasion  of 
Mr.  Fawcett's  indisposition)  in- 
duced the  managers  to  retain  Mr. 
Dibdin  as  an  author,  and  make  it 
worth  his  while  to  quit  the  stage 
as  an  actor.  Mr.  Harris,  how- 
ever, continued  his  salary,  on  con- 
dition that  he  should  furnish  the 
theatre  every  Christmas  with  a 
pantomime,  and  be  ready  to  pro- 
duce, when  called  upon,  any  pre- 
lude, interlude,  or  spectacle,  that 
public  events  of  interest  or  noto- 
riety might  render  fit  subjects  for 
the  theatre.  We  now  proceed  to 
give  what  we  believe  to  be  a  cor- 
rect list  of  Mr.  T.  Dibdin's  dra- 
matic writings,  viz. 

1.  The  Mad  Guardian.  F.  8vo. 
N.  D.  [1795.]  Under  the  as- 
sumed name  of  T.  Merchant. 

2.  Mouth  of  the  Nile.  M.  E. 
8vo.  1798. 

3.  Naval  Pillar.  M.  E.  8vo. 
1799. 

4.  Tag  in  Tribulation.  Int.  1/99- 
N.  P.    * 

5.  The  Volcano.  Pant.  [Songs 
only,  8vo.  1799-] 

6.  Horse  and  the  Widow.  F. 
8vo.  1799- 

7.  Five  Thousand  a  Year.  C 
8vo.  [1799] 

8.  The  Birth-day.  C.  8vo.  1799- 

9.  The  Hermione.  Int.  1800. 
N.  P. 

10.  The  Jew  and  the  Doctor.  F. 
Svo.  1800. 

11.  Liberal  Opinions.  C.  1800. 
N.  P. 

12.  True  Friends.  M.E.  1800. 
N.  P. 

13.  //  Bondocani.  C.  O.  Svo. 
1801. 

14.  St.  David's  Day.  Bal.  F. 
8vo.  1801. 

15.  School  far  Prejudice.  C.  Svo. 
1801. 


19<> 


D  I  G 

16.  Harlequin's  Almanack.     P. 
Svo.  1S01. 

17.  Brazen  Mask.      Eal.  Pant. 
Svo.  1802. 

18.  Family  Quarrels.  CO.  Svo. 
1S02. 

19-  Harlequin's  Habeas.     Tant. 
Svo.  1S02. 

20.  Guilty,  or  Not  Guilty  9    C 
fivo.  1S04. 

21.  Valentine  and  Orson.    Rom. 
M.  D.     Svo.  1804. 

22.  The  Will  for  the  Deed.     C. 
Svo.  1805. 

23.  Thirty  Thousand.    O.    Svo. 
1805. 

24.  Of  Age  To-morrowi   M.  E. 
Svo.  1S05. 

25.  Harlequin    Quicksilver.     P. 
Svo.  1S05. 

26.  Nelson's  Glomj.    Int.  1S05. 
N.  P. 

27.  77ie  Cabinet.     C  O.     Svo. 
1S05. 

28.  TA<?  English  Fleet  in  1342. 
C.  O.     Svo.  1805. 

29.  iwe  JIfi7«  Off.     C.     8vo. 
ISOfJ. 

30.  Mother  Goose.  Pant.  1805-/. 

3 1 .  Harlequin  s  Magnet.     Pant. 
180(3. 

32.  The  White  Plume.   M.  R.D. 
[Songs  only,  8vo.  1806.] 

33.  Two  Faces  under  a  Hood. 
CO.     Svo.  1S07. 

34.  Errors  Excepted.    C   1807. 
N.  P. 

35.  Bonifacio   and   Bridgetina. 
Mock  Melo-drama.    Svo.    1608. 

36.  Forest  of  Hermans tadt.  Me- 
lo-drama.    1S0S.  N.  P. 

37.  Harlequin  in   his  Element. 
P.     8vo.  1S08. 

38.  The  Jubilee.     Mus.  Sketch. 
I8O9.     N.  P. 

39.  Harlequin  Pedlar.     Pant. 
I8O9-IO. 

Digby,     George,     Earl    of 
Bristol.    This  author  was,    as 


D  I  L 
Mr.  "Walpole  observes,  "  a  fiiogu- 
"  lar  person,  whose  life  was  one 
"  contradiction.  He  wrote  against 
"  popery,  and  embraced  it ;  he 
u  was  a  zealous  opposer  of  the 
"court,  and  a  sacrifice  tor  it; 
"  was  conscientiously  converted  in 
"  the  midst  of  his  prosecution  of 
"  Lord  Stratford,  and  was  most 
"  unconscientious!)' a  prosecutor  of 
"  Lord  Clarendon.  With  great 
"  parts,  he  always  hurt  himself 
"  and  his  friends  ;  with  romantic 
"  bravery,  he  was  always  an  un- 
"  successful  commander.  He  spoke 
"  for  the  Test  Act,  though  a  Ro- 
"  man  Catholic ;  and  addicted 
"  himself  to  astrology,  on  the 
"  birth-day  of  true  philosophy." 
The  histories  of  England  abound 
with  the  adventures  of  this  in- 
consistent and  eccentric  nobleman, 
who,  among  his  other  pursuits, 
esteemed  the  drama  not  unworthy 
his  attention.  He  wrote  one  play, 
called 

Elvira.  C  4to.  1667. 
Downes  the  prompter  says,  that  he 
joined  with  Sir  Samuel  Tuke  in 
the  composition  of  The  Adventures 
of  Five  Hours,  and  that  between 
l6o'2and  1665  he  wrote  two  plays, 
made  out  of  the  Spanish,  called, 

l.'T is  better  than  it  was.    C. 

2.  Worse  and  Worse.  C 
Neither  of  which  have  been  print- 
ed, unless  one  of  them  should  be 
the  same  as  Elvira,  with  a  different 
title.  After  a  life,  which  at  dif- 
ferent periods  of  it  commanded 
both  the  respect  and  contempt  of 
mankind,  and  not  unfrequently 
the  same  sentiments  at  one  time, 
he  died,  neither  loved  nor- regretted 
by  any  party,  in  the  year  \6jQ. 

Dilke,  Thomas.  This  gen- 
tleman lived  in  the  reign  of 
"William  III.  and  was  the  son  of 
Mr.  Samuel  Dilke,  of  an  ancient 


101 


DOB 

at  Litchfield, 


family  at  Litchfield,  where  our 
author  was  born.  He  had  a  uni- 
versity education,  having  been 
some  time  a  student  at  Oriel  Col- 
lege, Oxford.  When  he  quilted 
the  university  he  went  into  the 
army,  and  had  a  lieutenant's  com- 
mission under  Lord  Raby;  after- 
wards Earl  of  Strafford  j  to  which 
nobleman  he  dedicated  one  of  his 
plays,  of  which  he  has  left  three 
behind  him,  whose  titles  are  as 
follow  : 

1.  Lover's  Luck.    C  4to.  1 6g6. 

2.  City  Lady.    C    4to.  1697. 

3.  Pretenders.    C.    4to.  1698. 
This  last  play  was  unsuccessful ; 

and  soon  after  its  miscarriage, 
Gildon  says,  the  author  died. 

Dimond,  William,  is,  the  se- 
cond, but  eldest  living,  son  of 
William  Wyatt  Dimond,  Esq.  one 
of  the  patentees  of  the  Theatres 
Royal,  Bath  and  Bristol ;  at  the 
former  of  which  cities  he  was 
born,  and  received  his  education 
under  the  Rev.  Dr.  Morgan.  He 
was  afterwards  entered  a  student 
of  the  Inner  Temple,  with  a  view 
to  the  bar;  to  which,  probably,  he 
has  been  since  called.  His  dra- 
matic productions  are  as  follow  : 

1.  Sea-side  Story.  Op.  D.  8vo. 
1801. 

2.  Hero  of  the  North.  H.  P. 
8vo.  1803. 

3.  Hunter  of  the  Alps.  D.  1804; 
Svo.  N.  D. 

4.  Youth,  Love,  and  Folly.  CO. 
Svo.  1805. 

5.  Adrian  and  Orrila.  P.  Svo. 
1806. 

6.  Young  Hussar,  Op.  Piece. 
Svo.  I8O7. 

7-  The  Foundling  of  the  Forest. 
P.     8vo.  ISO9. 

He  has  besides  published  a  vo- 
lume entitled  Petrarchal  Son- 
nets. 

Dobbs,   Francis.    This   gen- 


D  O  D 

tleman,  a  native  of  Ireland,  and  a 
writer  on  political  subjects,  pro- 
duced one  play,  acted  at  Dublin, 
called 

The   Patriot   King ;    or,    Irish 
Chief.     T.     8vo.  1774. 

Dodd,  James  Solas.  This  au- 
thor was  bred  a  surgeon,  and  in 
the  year  1752  published  An  E<:say 
towards  a  Natural  History  of  the 
Herring.  During  the  contest  about 
Elizabeth  Canning,  he  also  took  a 
_part  in  it,  and  published  a  pam- 
phlet in  her  defence.  He  after- 
wards composed  A  Lecture  on 
Hearts,  which  he  read  publicly  at 
Exeter  'Change,  with  some  degree 
of  success.  He  was  also  president 
of  one  of  the  disputing  societies, 
and  an  attendant  at  several  of 
them.  One  dramatic  piece  by 
him  has  been  acted  once  and  pub- 
lished, entitled 

Gallic  Gratitude ;  or,  The  French- 
man in  India.     C     Svo.  1/79- 

This  was  republished,  as  acted 
in  Dublin,  under  the  title  of 
The  Funeral  Pile.  CO.   12mo. 

17P9- 

Hedied  inMecklenburgh  Street, 
in  Dublin,  March  1805,  at  the 
great  age  (as  it  is  said)  of  104. 

Dodd,  William.  This  un- 
fortunate author  was  the  eldest 
son  of  the  Rev.  William  Dodd, 
many  years  vicar  of  Bourne,  in 
Lincolnshire,  and  was  born  May29, 
1 729-  He  was  sent,  at  the  age  of 
sixteen,  to  the  university  of  Cam- 
bridge, and  admitted  in  the  year 
1745  a  sizar  of  Clare  Hall.  In 
1749-50  he  took  the  degree  of 
B.  A.  with  great  honour,  being 
upon  that  occasion  in  the  list  of 
wranglers.  Leaving  the  university, 
he  imprudently  married  a  Mis? 
Mary  Perkins  in  1/51,  was  or- 
dained a  deacon  the  same  year, 
priest  in  1753,  and  soon  became  a 
celebrated  and  popular   preacher, 


3Q2 


DOD 


D  O  D 


His  first  preferment  was  the  lec- 
tureship of  West  Ham.  In  1/54 
he  was  appointed  lecturer  of  St. 
Olave's,  Hart  Street ;  and  in  1/5/ 
took  the  degree  of  M.  A.  at  Cam- 
bridge. On  (he  foundation  of  the 
Magdalen  Hospital,  in  1/5S,  he 
was  a  strenuous  supporter  of  the 
charity,  and  soon  after  became 
preacher  at  the  chapel  of  it.  By 
means  of  his  patron  Bishop  Squire, 
he  in  1J63  obtained  the  prebend 
of  Brecon,  and  by  the  interest  of 
some  city  friends  procured  himself 
to  be  appointed  King's  chaplain ; 
soon  after  which  he  had  the  edu- 
cation of  the  present  Earl  of  Ches- 
terfield committed  to  his  care.  In 
l/6'o  he  went  to  Cambridge,  and 
took  the  degree  of  LL.  D.  At 
this  period  the  estimation  he  was 
held  in  by  the  world  was  suffi- 
cient to  give  him  expectations  of 
preferment,  and  hopes  of  riches 
and  honours  ;  and  these  he  might 
probably  have  acquired,  had  he 
possessed  a  common  portion  of 
prudence  and  discretion.  But, 
impatient  of  his  situation,  and 
desirous  of  advancement,  he  un- 
luckily fell  upon  means  which  in 
the  end  were  the  occasion  of  his 
ruin.  On  the  living  of  St.  George, 
Hanover  Square,  becoming  vacant, 
he  wrote  an  anonymous  letter  to 
the  Chancellor's  lady,  offering 
3000  guineas  if  by  her  assistance 
he  was  promoted  to  it.  This  be- 
ing traced  to  him,  complaint  was 
immediately  made  to  the  King, 
and  Dr.  Dodd  was  dismissed  with 
disgrace  from  his  post  of  chaplain. 
From  this  period  he  lived  neg- 
lected, if  not  despised ;  and  his 
extravagance  still  continuing,  he 
became  involved  in  difficulties, 
which  tempted  him  to  forge  a  bond 
from  his  late  pupil  Lord  Chester- 
field, Feb.  4,  1/77,  for  4200/. 
which  he  actually  received  ;  but, 


being  detected,  was  tried  at  the 
Old  Bailey,  found  guilty,  and  re- 
ceived sentence  of  death  ;  and,  in 
spite  of  every  application  for  mer- 
cy, was  executed  at  Tyburn,  June 
27>  l~77-  Dr.  Dodd  was  a  volu- 
minous writer,  and  possessed  con- 
siderable abilities,  with  little  judg- 
ment and  much  vanity.  Among 
other  pursuits,  he  had  made  some 
attempts  in  dramatic  poetry,  and 
very  early  in  life  wrote, 

1 .  The  Syracusan.     T. 

This  is  said  to  have  been  in  the 
hands  of  one  of  tl :e  managers 
when  he  took  orders  ;  but  on  that 
event  was  withdrawn. 

2.  Sir  Roger  de  Coverly.     C. 
Respecting  this  piece  an  anecdote 
will  oe  found  in  Vol.  III.  p.  2/8. 

Neither  of  these  plays  has  been 
publ^hed. 

Dodsley,  Robert.  This  au- 
thor was  born  in  the  year  1703, 
near  Mansfield,  in  Nottingham- 
shire, as  it  is  supposed ;  and  his  first 
setting  out  in  life  was  in  a  servile 
station  (footman  to  the  Honourable 
Mrs.  Lowther),  from  which,  how- 
ever, his  abilities  very  soon  raised 
him ;  for,  having  written  The 
Toyshop,  and  that  piece  being 
shown  to  Mr.  Pope,  the  delicacy 
of  satire  which  is  conspicuous  in  it, 
though  clothed  with  the  greatest 
simplicity  of  design,  so  strongly 
recommended  its  author  to  the  no- 
tice of  that  celebrated  poet,  that  he 
continued  from  that  time  to  the 
day  of  his  death  a  warm  friend  and 
zealous  patron  to  Mr.  Dodsley ; 
and  although  he  had  himself  no 
connexion  with  the  theatres,  yet 
procured  him  such  an  interest 
as  ensured  its  being  immediately 
brought  on  the  stage,  where  it 
met  with  the  success  it  merited  : 
as  did  also  a  farce  called  The  King 
and  Miller  of  Mansfield,  which 
made  its  appearance  in  the  ensu* 


193 


D  O  D 

ing  year,  viz.  T/36.  From  the 
success  of  these  pieces  he  entered 
into  that  business  which,  of  all 
others,  has  the  closest  connexion 
with,  and  the  most  immediate  de- 
pendence on,  persons  of  genius 
and  literature,  viz.  that  of  a  book- 
seller. In  this  station  Mr.  Pope's 
recommendation,  and  his  own  me- 
rit, soon  obtained  him  not  only 
the  countenance  of  persons  of  the 
first  abilities,  but  also  of  those  of 
the  first  rank,  and  in  a  few  years 
raised  him  to  great  eminence  in 
his  profession,  in  which  he  was  al- 
most, if  not  altogether,  at  the 
head.  Yet,  neither  in  this  capa- 
city, nor  in  that  of  a  writer,  had 
success  any  improper  effect  on 
him.  In  one  light  he  preserved  the 
strictest  integrity,  in  the  other  the 
most  becoming  humility.  Mind- 
ful of  the  early  encouragement 
his  own  talents  met  with,  he  was 
ever  ready  to  give  the  same  oppor- 
tunity of  advancement  to  those  of 
others,  and  he  was,  on  many  oc- 
casions, not  only  the  publisher 
but  the  patron  of  genius.  But 
there  is  no  circumstance  which 
adds  more  lustre  to  his  character, 
than  the  grateful  remembrance  he 
retained,  and  ever  expressed,  to 
the  memory  of  those  to  whom  he 
owed  the  obligation  of  his  first 
being  taken  notice  of  in  life.  We 
shall  not,  however,  dwell  any 
longer  on  the  amiableness  of  Mr. 
Dodsley's  character  as  a  man.  Asa 
writer,  there  is  an  ease  and  elegance 
that  run  through  all  his  works, 
which  sometimes  are  more  pleasing 
than  a  more  laboured  and  orna- 
mented manner.  In  verse,  his  num- 
bers are  flowing,  if  not  sublime;  and 
his  subjects  constantly  well  chosen 
and  entertaining.  In  prose,  he  is 
familiar,  yet  chaste ;  and  in  his 
dramatic  pieces  he  has  ever  kept 

VOL.  I, 


D  0  D 

in  his  eye  the  one  great  prin- 
ciple, delcctando  pariterque  mo- 
nendo;  some  general  moral  is  con- 
stantly conveyed  in  the  general 
plan,  and  particular  instruction  dis- 
persed in  the  particular  strokes  of 
satire.  The  dialogue  moreover  is 
easy,  the  plots  are  simple,  and 
the  catastrophes  interesting  and 
pathetic. 

Mr.  Dodsley  by  his  profession 
acquired  a  very  handsome  fortune, 
with  which  he  r tired  from  busi- 
ness before  his  death,  which  hap- 
pened the  25th  day  of  Sept.  IjQl, 
at  the  house  of  his  friend  Mr. 
Spence,  at  Durham.     He  wrote, 

1.  An  Entertainment  designedfor 
Her  Majesty's  Birth-day.  Svo. 
1/32. 

2.  An  Entertainment  designedfor 
the  Wedding  of  Governor  Lmvlher 
and  Mits  Pennington.     Svo.  1/32. 

3.  The  Toyshop.  D.  S.  Svo. 
1735. 

4.  The  King  and  the  Miller  of 
Mansfield.     J).  T.     Svo.  1737. 

5.  Sir  John  Cockle  at  Court.  F. 
8vo.  1738. 

6.  The  Blind  Beggar  of  Bcthnal 
Green.     B.  F.     Svo.  1741. 

7.  Rex  et  Pontifcx.  Pant.  Svo, 
1745. 

8.  The  Triumph  of  Peace.  M. 
4to.  17-49. 

9.  Cleone.  T.  Svo.  175S. 
Besides  these,  he  published  a  lit- 
tle collection  of  his  own  works, 
in  one  volume  Svo.  under  the  mo- 
dest title  of  Trifles,  and  a  poem  of 
considerable  length,  entitled  Pul- 
lic  Virtue,  in  4to.  17.54. 

He  also  executed  two  works 
of  great  service  to  the  cause  of 
genius,  as  they  are  the  means  of 
preserving  pieces  of  merit,  that 
might  otherwise  have  sunk  into 
oblivion,  viz.  the  publication  of 
a  collection  of  poems  by 
P 


19-1 


DOG 

ferent  eminent  bands,  in  six  vols. 
8vo.  and  a  collection  of  plays 
by  old  authors,  in  twelve  volumes 
l2mo. 

Dogget,  Thomas.  This  au- 
thor was  also  an  actor.  He  was 
born  in  Castle  Street,  Dublin,  and 
made  his  first  theatrical  attempt 
on  the  stage  of  that  metropolis ; 
but  not  meeting  with  the  encou- 
ragement there  that  his  merit  un- 
doubtedly had  a  light  to,  he  came 
over  to  England,  and  entered  him- 
self in  a  travelling  company  ;  but 
from  thence  very  soon  was  re- 
moved to  London,  and  established 
in  Drury  Lane  and  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields  theatres,  where  he  was  uni- 
versally approved  in  every  character 
he  performed ;  but  shone  in  none 
more  conspicuously  than  in  those 
-of  Fondlewife  in  The  Old  Bachelor , 
and  Ben  in  Love  for  Love,  which 
Mr.  Congreve,  with  whom  he  was 
a  very  great  favourite,  wrote  in 
some  measure  with  a  view  to  his 
manner  of  acting. 

In  a  few  years  after  he  removed 
to  Drury  Lane  theatre,  where  he 
became  joint  manager  with  Wilks 
and  Cibber ;  in  which  situation  he 
continued  till,  on  a  disgust  he  took, 
in  the  year  1/12,  at  Mr.  Booth's 
being  forced  on  them  as  a  sharer 
in  the  management,  he  threw  up 
his  part  in  the  property  of  the 
theatre,  though  it  was  looked  on 
to  have  been  worth  a  thousand 
pounds  per  annum.  He  had,  how- 
ever, by  his  frugality,  saved  a  com- 
petent fortune  to  render  him  easy 
for  the  remainder  of  his  life,  with 
which  he  retired  from  the  hurry  of 
business  in  the  very  meridian  of 
his  reputation.  As  an  actor  he  had 
great  merit,  an  1  his  contemporary 
Cibber  informs  us,  that  he  was  the 
most  of  an  original,  and  the  strictest 
observer  of  nature,  of  any  actor  of 
h:g  £ime.     His  manner,   though 


DOG 

borrowed  from  none,  frequently 
served  lor  a  model  to  many  ;  and 
he  possessed  that  peculiar  art 
which  so  very  few  performers  are 
masters  of,  viz.  the  arriving  nt  the 
perfectly  ridiculous,  without  step-» 
ping  into  the  least  impropriety  to 
attain  it :  and  so  extremely  care* 
ful  and  skilful  was  he  in  the  dress* 
ir.g  of  his  characters  to  the  greatest 
exactness  of  propriety,  that  the 
least  article  of  what  he  wore 
seemed  in  some  measure  to  speak 
and  mark  the  different  humour  he 
presented ;  a  necessary  care  in  a 
comedian,  in  which  many  per- 
formers are  but  too  remiss. 

Mr.  Dogget  died  at  Eltham,  in 
Kent,  the  22d  of  Sept.  1721,  and 
was  buried  there  ;  having,  as  we 
before  observed,  made  himself  in- 
dependent of  business,  by  his  care 
and  economy  while  he  remained 
in  it.  In  his  political  pri nciples 
he  was,  in  the  words  of  Sir  Ri- 
chard Steele,  a  Whig  up  to  the 
head  and  ears ;  and  so  strictly  was 
he  attached  to  the  interests  of  the 
House  of  Hanover,  that  he  never 
let  slip  any  occasion  that  presented 
itself  of  demonstrating  his  senti- 
ments in  that  respect.  One  in- 
stance among  others  is  well  known; 
which  is,  that  the  year  after  King 
George  I.  came  to  the  throne,  he 
gave  a  waterman's  coat  and  silver 
badge,  to  be  rowed  for  by  six  wa- 
termen, on  the  first  day  of  August, 
being  the  anniversary  of  that  King's 
accession  to  the  throne  :  and  at  his 
death  bequeathed  a  certain  sum  of 
money,  the  interest  of  which  was 
to  be  appropriated  annually,  for 
ever,  to  the  purchase  of  a  like 
coat  and  badge,  to  be  rowed  for 
in  honour  of  the  day  j  which  ce«» 
remony  is  every  year  performed 
on  the  first  of  August,  the  claim- 
ants setting  out,  on  a  signal  given, 
at  that  time  Qf  the  tide  when  th? 


1^5 


D  O  V 


-current  is  strongest  against  them, 
and  rowing  from  the  Old  Swan 
near  London  Bridge,  to  the  White 
Swan  at  Chelsea. 

As  a  writer,  Mr.  Dogget  has 
left  behind  him  only  one  comedy, 
which  has  not  been  performed  in 
its  original  state  for  many  years, 
entitled 

The  Country  Wake.  C.  4to.l696. 
It  has  been  altered,  however,  into 
a  ballad  farce,  which  has  frequently 
made  its  appearance  under  the 
title  of 

Flora  ;  or,  Hob  in  the  Well. 
Dormant,  Mr.  This  gentle- 
man lived  at  Hampstead.  We 
know,  however,  nothing  more  of 
him,  than  that  he  was  the  author  of 
one  wretched  play,  entitled 

Sir Ro<rer  de  Cover ly.  D..E.  8vo. 
17-10. 

Dossie,  Robert.  This  gen- 
tleman \v;s  principal  secretary  to 
the  society  for  the  encouragement 
of  arts  and  manufactures.  He  died 
in  1777 >  having  given  to  the  pub- 
lic one  trifling  piece  called 

The  Statesman  foiled.  M.C.  8vo. 
1/GS. 

Douglas,  the  Rev.  Mr.  was 
author  of 

Edwin,  the  lavished  Prince.  T. 
Svo.  N".  D.   [1784.] 

Dover,  John.  This  gentle- 
man was  the  grandson  of  Mr. 
Robert  Dover,  an  eminent  attor- 
ney-at-law,  at  a  place  called  Boston 
on  the  Heath,  in  Warwickshire, 
and  the  chief  director  and  manager 
of  an  assembly  called  the  Olympic 
Games,  which  were  annually  ce- 
lebrated upon  Cots  wold  Hills,  in 
Gloucestershire.  Our  author  re- 
ceived his  education  at  Magdalen 
College,  Oxford ;  from  whence, 
being  intended  by  his  father  for 
the  law,  he  removed  to  Grays 
Inn,  and  was  called  to  the  bar. 
The  oratory  of  the  courts,  how- 


D  O  W 

ever,  riot  suiting  his  inclination  so 
well  as  that  of1  the  pulpit,  he  soon 
quitted  the  law,  and  took  orders ; 
and  Coxeter  tells  us,  that  at  the 
time  his  notes  were  written,  Mr. 
Dover  was  a  minister  of  the 
Gospel  at  Drayton,  in  Oxfordshire. 
The  exact  period  of  his  birth  we 
find  no  where  recorded,  but  ima- 
gine he  must  have  lived  to  a  con- 
siderable age;  as  the  time  of  Cox- 
eter's  writing,  when  he  mentions 
him  as  living,  could  not  at  the 
earliest  be  sooner  than  1720,  and 
a  play  which  he  published,  and 
which  he  declares  to  have  been  his 
amusement  after  the  fatigues  of 
the  law,  was  published  in  l667« 
The  title  of  it  is 

The  Roman  Generals.  T.  4to. 
1667- 

Wood  says  he  had  written  one 
or  two  more  plays.  It  would  ap- 
pear that  he  was  the  child  of  old 
age  ;  for  a  MS.  note  in  a  copy  of 
the  Collection  of  Verses  on  the 
Cotswold  Games,  in  the  posses- 
sion of  Mr.  Octavius  Gilchrist,  of 
Stamford,  says,  ■«  Dr.  John  Dover 
"  was  born  in  the  sixty-secondycar 
"  of  his  mother's  age,  as  his  own 
"  daughter,  now  living,  attests 
"  (anno  \7±7)>  who  is  wife  to 
"  Mr.  Cord  well,  the  city  car- 
"  penter." 

Dow,  Alexander,  was  a  na- 
tive of  Scotland,  educated  at 
Crief,  and  bred  a  merchant  j  but 
was  afterwards  an  officer  of  emi- 
nence in  the  service  of  the  East 
India  Company.  Being  under  the 
necessity  of  quitting  Scotland  in 
consequence  of  a  duel,  he  entered 
himself  as  a  common  sailor  on 
board  an  East  Ind;a  ship,  bound 
to  Bencoolen ;  where  the  secre- 
taryship to  the  governor  beino- 
vacant,  Mr.  Dow  very  fortunately 
obtained  that  office,  and  soon  be- 
came lieutenant-colonel, 
o  2 


196 


DOW 

He  was  supposed  to  be  the  trans- 
lator of  several  works  from  the 
Persian  language ;  though  it  is 
generally  thought,  from  the  assist- 
ance he  received,  that  very  little  of 
them  could  be  called  his  own.  He 
in  like  manner  produced  two  dra- 
matic performances,  called, 

1.  Zitigis.     T.     Svo.  I/69. 

2.  Selhona.     T.     8vo.  1/74. 
and  died  in  the  E ast  Indies  about 
the  latter  end  of  J 7/9- 

Dower,  E.  "Who,  or  of  what 
profession  this  author  was,  we 
know  not ;  but  he  seems  by  his 
writings  to  have  been  the  most 
perfect  professor  of  poverty  that 
ever  devoted  himself  to  the  tat- 
tered sisters  of  Parnassus ;  for  the 
few  poems  he  has  published  breathe 
nothing  but  complaints  of  his  des- 
titute and  distressed  condition ;  and, 
indeed,  his  brain  seems  to  have 
been  quite  as  empty  as  his  pockets. 
He  has  printed  the  poems  above 
mentioned,  together  with  a  nar- 
rative, in  which  he  casts  the  most 
severe  reflections  on  the  manager 
of  one  of  the  theatres,  and  on  the 
late  Dutchess  Dowager  of  Marl- 
borough, for  not  having  given  him 
money,  as  a  reward  for  his  having 
deprived  the  community  of  per- 
haps a  good  porter  or  cobler,  in 
the  attempt  to  make  a  most  exe- 
crable scribbler.  With  these  he 
has  published  a  dramatic  piece, 
which,  though  for  from  having  any 
merit  in  point  of  plot  or  character, 
yet  is  so  far  tolerable  with  respect 
to  the  language,  and  so  far  supe- 
rior to  any  of  the  other  specimens 
he  has  given  us  of  his  writings, 
that,  notwithstanding  the  abuse  he 
has  chosen  to  vent  against  Mr. Fleet- 
wood for  not  accepting  it,  we  can 
scarcely  believe  it  to  have  been  his 
own.     It  is  called 

The  Salopian  Squire.  Dramatic 
Tale.     Svo.  1-73S. 


DOW 

Downhs,  Captain.  This  gen- 
tleman was  the  author  of  one  dra- 
matic piece,  called 

All  Vows  Kept.  C.   12mo.l/33. 

Downing,  George.  This  au- 
thor was  at  one  time  a  comedian 
in  the  York  company.  He  says, 
in  one  of  bis  works,  that  his  father 
was  a  tradesman,  who  gave  him  a 
genteel  education  ;  that  in  the 
nineteenth  year  of  his  age  he  mar- 
ried unknown  to  his  friends ;  and 
that  he  had  frequently  suffered  all 
the  hardships  incident  to  the  life 
of  an  itinerant  player.  He  is  au- 
thor of  the  following  three  dra- 
matic pieces  : 

1.  Newmarket;  or,  The  Humours 
of  the  Turf.     C.     12mo.  1/63. 

2.  The  Parthian  Exile.  T.  Svo. 
1774. 

3.  The  Volunteers;  or,  Taylors 
to  Arms.     C.     Svo.  17SO. 

He  quitted  the  stage  before  his 
death,  and  became  master  of  a 
school  at  Birmingham,  where  he 
died  about  the  latter  end  of  the 
year  17SO. 

To  him  also  has  been  ascribed, 

4.  Tricks  of  Harlequin.  Pant. 
Ent.      12mo.  1739. 

Downman,  Hugh,  M.  D.  was 
the  son  of  a  gentleman  of  good 
fortune  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Exeter.  He  was  educated  first  at 
the  public  school  at  Exeter,  from 
whence  he  removed  to  Jesus  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  where  he  took 
the  degree  of  M.  A.  He  was  de- 
signed for  the  church;  and,  if  we 
are  not  misinformed,  actually  took 
orders,  and  performed  the  duties 
of  a  clergyman  for  a  few  years  in 
his  father's  neighbourhood  :  but  a 
disorder  to  which  he  was  subject 
(afterwards  proved  to  be  a  liver 
complaint)  rendering  any  exertion 
of  his  voice  painful  and  dangerous, 
he  went  to  Edinburgh,  and  took 
his  degrees  in  physic.    Ke  was.  the 


197 


DRA 
author  of  several  poems,  as,  The 
Land  of  the  Muses,  Infancy,  The 
Death  Song  qf  Loglrok,  Poems 
sacred  to  Love  and  Beauty,  &c. ; 
and  of  three  tragedies,  viz. 

1.  Lucius  Junius  Brutus.  H.  P. 
Svo.  1/79- 

'l.Editha.  T.  Svo.  17S4.  Print- 
ed at  Exeter.    Reprinted  1792. 

3.  Betisarius.  T.  Svo.  1/86, 
and  1792. 

Dr.  Downman  died  at  Exeter, 
Sept.  23,  I8O9. 

Dowkton,  Thomas,  we  find 
mentioned  (which  is  all  that  we 
can  learn  of  him)  as  author  of, 

1.  Friar  Fox  andGUlim  of  Brent- 
ford.    P.     159S.     N.  P. 

2.  The  Fayvood.   P.   1598.  N.P. 

3.  Peg  of  Plymouth.  T.  \5QQ. 
N.P. 

Drake,  Dr.  James.  This  au- 
thor was  more  celebrated  for  his 
political  than  his  dramatic  works. 
He  was  born  at  Cambridge,  in  the 
year  \667,  and  had  a  liberal  edu- 
cation, first  at  Wiveiingham,  and 

f  afterwards  at  Eton.  On  the  20th 
of  March  1684,  be  was  admitted 
into  the  university  of  Cambridge, 
and  some  time  before  the  Revolu- 
tion took  the  degree  of  B.  A.  He 
soon  afterwards  became  M.  A.  and 
inl694M.  D.  He  then  removed 
to  London,  and  was  chosen  fellow 
of  the  Royal  Society,  and  of  the 
College  of  Physicians.  It  may  be 
presumed,  that  his  practice  in  his 
profession  was  not  very  consider- 
able, as  we  find  him  from  this  time 
much  engaged  in  many  literary 
and    political    undertakings.      He 

'  was  concerned  in  a  paper  called 
Mercurius  Politicus,  wherein  were 
inserted  expressions  which  afford- 
ed his  enemies  some  grounds  for 
a  prosecution  in  theQueen's  Bench. 
This  was  carried  on  against  him 
with  great  severity  ;  and,  though 
he  was  acquitted,  a  writ  of  error 


DRA 

was  brought  by  Government.  This, 
added  to  repeated  disappointments 
and  ill-treatment  from  »ome  of  his 
party,  threw  him  at  length  into  a 
fever,  of  which  he  died  at  West- 
minster on  the  2d  of  March  1  JOG-" , 
after  a  short  confinement  to  his 
bed.     He  was  the  author  of 

The  Sfiam  Lawyer ;  or,  The 
Lucky  Extravagant.     Com.    4to. 

16.97- 

Draper,  Matthew.  Of  this 
author  we  can  give  no  account. 
He  wrote  one  play,  called 

The  Spendthrift.  C.   Svo.  1/31. 

Drayton, Michael.  This  gen- 
tleman, who  was  a  poet  of  great 
renown  in  the  reigns  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  James  I.  and  Charles  L 
was  of  a  very  ancient  family,  ori- 
ginally descended  from  the  town 
of  Drayton  in  Leicestershire ;  but 
his  parents  removing  into  War- 
wickshire, he  was  born  at  a  lit- 
tle village,  called  HarsuJ,  in  that 
county,  in  1563.  While  he  was 
extremely  young,  hp  gave  such 
proofs  of  a  growing  genius,  as  ren- 
dered him  a  favourite  with  his 
tutors,  and  procured  him  the  pa- 
tronage of  some  persons  of  dis- 
tinction; for  from  his  own  words 
we  may  gather,  that  even  at  ten 
years  of  age  he  had  made  a  con- 
siderable proficiency  in  the  Latin 
tongue,  and  was  page  to  a  person 
of  quality,  ^r  Aston  C  ikain  men- 
tions his  having  been  for  some 
time  a  student  at  Oxford,  though 
it  is  most  probable  that  he  com- 
pleted  his  studies  at  the  other  uni- 
vi  rsity.  His  propensity  to  poetry 
was  extremely  st'  < >ng,  even  from 
his  infancy  ;  and  we  find  the  most 
of  his  principal  pieces  published, 
and  himself  highly  distingui  hed 
as  a  poet,  by  the  time  be  was 
about  thirty  years  of  age.  It  ap- 
pear.-,, from  his  poem  of  Moses's 
Bath  and.  Miracles,  that  he  was 
o  3 


195 
D  R  A  D  R  A 

a  spectator  at  Dover  of  the  famous  Coxeter  tells  us,  that  he  has  seen 
Spanish  Armada,  and  it  is  not  im-  an  old  MS.  t«  the  play  called 
probable,  that  he  was  engaged  in  The  Merry  Devil  of  Edmonton. 
some  military  employment  there.  C.  -Ho.  ltJOa. 
It  is  certain,  that  not  only  for  his  which  declares  it  to  have  been 
merit  as  a  writer,  but  his  valuable  written  by  Michael  Drayton,  Esq.; 
qualities  as  a  man,  he  was  held  in  but  this,  tor  the  reason  assigned 
high  estimation,  and  strongly  pa- 
tronized by  several  personages  of 
consequence  ;  particularly  by  Sir 
Henry  Goodere,  Sir  Walter  Aston, 
and  the  Countess  of  Bedford  ;  to 


under  its  article  in  the  third  vo- 
lume, can  hardly  have  been  writ- 
ten by  him.  Meres,  however, 
speaks  of  him  as  a  writer  of  tra- 
gedy, and  pronounces  the  foliow- 
the  first  of  whom  he  owns  himself    ingewlogium  on  him  (ll'V     Trea- 


indebted  for  great  part  of  his  edu- 
cation, and  by  the  second  he  was 
for  many  years  supported. 

At    the    coronation    of    King 
James  T.    Sir  Walter  Aston  fixed 
on    Mr.   Drayton    as   one   of  the 
'•quires  to  attend  him  at  his  crea- 
tion of  knight  of  the  Bath  ;   and  it 
has    been    alleged    that,     during 
King  James's   minority,  our  poet 
was  instrumental  in  a  correspond- 
ence   carried    on     between     that 
Prince  and  Queen  Elizabeth.  This 
assertion,    however,    wanis    con- 
firmation ;  and  the  rather,  as  we 
lind  that,  though  Drayton  did  un- 
questionably stoop  to  gross  flattery 
to  that  Monarch,  in  some  poems 
written   on  his  accession,  yet  he 
obtained  no  preferment  from  him ; 
and   even   his  poems   themselves 
met  with   a  very  cool  and  unfa- 
vourable reception. 

His  works  are  very  numerous, 
and  so  elegant,  that  his  manner 
has  been  copied  by  many  modern 
writers  of  eminence  since.  Among 
these  the  most  celebrated  one  is  the 
Poly-O'dion,  which  is  a  description 
of  the  several  parts  of  this  island, 
in  twelve  foot  verse,  and  contained 
in  thirty  books,  or,  as  the  author 
has  himself  called  them,  Songs. 

Neither  Langbaine,  Jacob,  nor 
any  of  th  3  other  writers,  have  men- 
tioned him,  as  3  dramatist;    bat 


sury}  p.  281)  :  "As  Aulus  Persius 
"  Flaccus  is  reported  among  al 
"*  writers  to  be  of  an  honest  life 
"  and  upright  conversation,  so 
"Michael  Drayton  (quern  tot'n* . 
"  honoris  et  amoris  causa  nomino) 
"  among schollers,souldeers, poets, 
"  and  all  sorts  of  people,  is  helde 
"  for  a  man  of  vertuous  disposi- 
"  tion,  honest  conversation,  and 
'.*  wel  governed  cariage,  which  is 
"  almost  meraculous  among  good 
"  wits  in  these  declining  and  cor- 
"  rupt  times,  when  there  is  no- 
"  thing  but  rogery  in  villanous 
"  man,  and  when  cheating  and 
"  craftines  is  counted  the  cleanes^ 
"  wit  and  soundest  wisdome." 

This  celebrated  bard  died  in 
1631,  being  sixty-eight  years  of 
age,  and  was  buried  among  the  poets 
iu  Westminster  Abbey.  Over  his 
grave  is  erected  a  handsome  table 
monument  of  blue  marble,  adorn- 
ed with  his  effigies  in  busto  lau- 
reated. 

The  following  dramatic  pieces 
(none  of  which,  however,  are  ex- 
tant) have  been  ascribed  to  the  pen 
of  Drayton : 

1.  (Jonnan,,  Prince  of  Cornwall. 
P.    15C)S.   X.P. 

'I,  Karl  Godwin  and  his  Three 
Sons.     Part  II.    1598.  N.P. 

3.  The  First  Civil  IVurs  in 
France.    P.  1598.  N.  P. 


m 


D  R  If 

4.  Sir  William  Longs  word.     P. 
1598.  N.  P. 

5.  Wars   of  Henry  I.    and  the 
Prince  of  Wales.     P.   15Q3.  N.  P. 

6.  Worse  afeated  than  hurt.    P. 
1593.  N.  P. 

7.  The  Two  Harpies.  P.  1602. 
N.P. 

Dreghorn,  Lord*  See  Mac- 
laurin. 

Drue,  Thomas.  The  very 
rame  of  this  author  has  been  hi- 
therto unknown,  and  we  are  unable 
to  give  any  account  of  him.  From 
the  book  of  the  S'tationers'  Com- 
pany, however,  we  find  he  was 
the  author  of  one  piece,  ascribed 
by  Langbaine  to  Hey  wood  j  and 
joint  author  with  Robert  Daven* 
port  of  another,  which  has  not 
been  printed.     The  first  is 

The  Life  of  the  Dutchess  of  Suf- 
folk.    Hist.  P.  4to.  1631. 
The  other, 

The  Woman's  mistaken. 

Drury,  Robert.  Of  this  gen- 
tleman we  know  nothing  more, 
.than  that  he  was  an  attorney  at 
law,  and  wrote  the  four  following 
pieces,  viz. 

1.  Devil  of  a  Duke.  B.F.  8vo. 
1732. 

2.  Mad  Captain.  O.  8vo.  1/33. 

3.  The  Fa?icy'd  Queen.  O.  8vo. 
1733. 

4.  The  Rival  Milliners.  T.  C. 
O.  F.  Svo.   1735. 

Drury,  William.  Little  is 
known  of  this  author,  who,  it  may 
be  presumed,  passed  the  principal 
part  of  his  life  abroad,  and  died 
there.  He  was  an  Englishman,  but 
the  time  and  place  of  his  birth  are 
unknown.  He  began  to  teach 
poetry  and  rhetoric  at  the  English 
college  in  Douay,  in  Oct.  1618, 
having  been  invited  thither  by  Dr. 
Kellison.,  the  president,  who  had 
at  that  time  drawn  the  students 
from  the  Jesuits'  schools,  and  was 


DRY 


providing  professors  to  teach  (hem 
at  home,  according  to  the  first  in- 
stitution of  the  college.  Mr.  Drury 
had  been  some  time  prisoner  in' 
England,  on  account  of  his  reli- 
gion :  but  about  two  years  before 
was  released,  at  the  intercession  of 
Count  Gondemar,  ambassador 
from  Spain,  to  whom  he  dedicated 
the  plays  hereafter  mentioned. 
These,  we  are  told,  were  exhibit- 
ed with  great  applause,  first  pri- 
vately, in  the  refectory  of  the  col- 
lege, and  again  in  the  open  court 
or  quadrangle,  at  which  all  the 
principal  persons  of  the  town  and 
university  were  present.  They 
were  afterwards  published,  with 
encomiums  in  Latin  verse,  by 
George  Leybarn,  Thomas  Black- 
loe,  Thomas  Metcalf,  and  Robert 
Blandeston,  in  more  than  one  edi- 
tion, and  are  as  follow  : 

1.  Aluredus! sive  Alfi  edits.   Tra- 
gico-Comedia. 

2.  Mors.     Com. 

3.  Reparatus    sive    Depositum. 
Trag.-Com. 

All  printed  together,  at  Douay, 
12mo.   1628. 

Dryden,  John.  As  this  very 
eminent  poet  had  but  little  con- 
cern with  public  affairs,  any  farther 
than  by  his  writings,  and  as  the 
incidents  of  his  life  had  no  great 
variety  in  them,  or  at  least  very 
few  of  them  are  on  record,  we 
shall  mostly  confine  ourselves,  in' 
this  detail  of  his  history,  to  his 
proceedings  and  progress  in  lite- 
rary and  poetical  fame.  It  wilt 
therefore  be.  sufficient  to  inform 
our  readers,  that  he  was  the  sod 
of  Erasmus  Dry  den,  Esq.  of  Tich- 
marsh,  and  grandson  of  Sir  Eras- 
mus Dryden,  of  Canonsbury,  both 
in  Northamptonshire,  and  that  h$ 
was  born  August  9,  1631,  at 
Aldwincle,  near  Oundle,  in  the 
said  countyj  a  village,  which,  as 
o  4  ' 


200 


DRY 


DRY 


he.  himself  informs  us,  belonged 
to  the  Earl  of  Exeter,  and  which 
was  also  famous  for  giving  birth  to 
the  celebrated  Dr.  Thomas  Fuller, 
the  historian. 

He  received  the  rudiments  of  his 
grammar  learning  at  Westminster 
school,  under  the  learned  Dr. 
Busby,  and  from  thence  was  re- 
moved to  Cambridge,  where  he 
was  entered  a  pensioner,  and  ma- 
triculated the  (5tb  of  July  lfoO. 
He  took  his  degree  of  Bachelor 
of  Arts  in  1053,  and  was  elected 
scholar  of  Trinity  College.  Yet,  in 
his  earlier  days  he  gave  no  very  ex- 
traordinary indications  of  genius ; 
for,  even  the  year  before  he  quitted 
the  university,  he  wrote  a  poem 
on  the  death  of  Lord  Hastings, 
which  was  by  no  means  a  presage 
of  that  amazing  perfection  in  poe- 
tical powers  which  he  afterwards 
possessed.  His  first  play,  viz.  The 
Wild.  Gallant,  did  not  appear  till 
he  was  about  thirty-one  years  of 
age,  and  then  met  with  such  in- 
different success,  that  had  not  ne- 
cessity afterwards  compelled  him 
to"  pursue  the  arduous  task,  the 
English  stage  had  perhaps  never 
been  favoured  with  some  of  its 
brightest  ornaments. 

But  to  proceed  more  regularly. 
On  the  death  of  Oliver  Cromwell 
he  wrote  some  heroic  stanzas  to 
his  memory  ;  but  on  the  Restora- 
tion, being  desirous  of  ingratiating 
himself  with  the  new  court,  he 
produced,  first,  a  poem,  entitled 
Astrcea  Redux,  and  afterwards  a 
panegyric  to  the  King  on  his  co- 
ronation. In  1602,  he  addressed 
a  poem  to  the  Lord  Chancellor 
Hyde,  presented  on  New  Year's 
Day;  and  in  the  same  year  a  satire 
on  the  Dutch.  In  1668  appeared 
his  Annus  Hfiralilis,  which  was 
an  historical  poem  in  celebration 
of  the  Duke  ef  York's  victory 


over  the  Dutch.    These  pieces  at" 
length  obtained  him   the  favour 
of  the  crown  ;    and   Sir  William 
D'Avenant  dying  the  same  year, 
Mr.  Dryden  was  appointed  to  suc- 
ceed htm  as  poet-laureat.     About 
the  same  time  he  engaged  himself 
by  contract  (says  Mr.  Baker)   to 
write   four    plays   in    each    year ; 
which,  notwithstanding  the  asser- 
tions of  some  writers,  he  never 
executed ;    but  it  has  lately  been 
proved,  by  indisputable  authority, 
that  he  only  contracted  to  produce 
three  in  every  year.     This  agree- 
ment, however,  he  never  perform- 
ed, as  appears  from  an   original 
paper,  signed  by  the  players  with 
whom  he   made  this  stipulation, 
which  is  preserved  in  Mr.  Malone's 
Supplement  to  Shakspeare,  vol.  i. 
pi  3g5;  and  indeed  it  will  be  seen, 
that  from  1664  (The  Rival  Ladies) 
to    i694    (Love    Triumphant),    a 
period  of  thirty  years,  only  twenty- 
seven  dramas  were  produced  by 
him.     Shakspeare,  in  twenty-five 
years,  produced  thirty-seven  plays. 
In  1675,  the  Earl  of  Rochester, 
whose  envious  and  malevolent  dis- 
position would  not  permit  him  to 
see  growing  merit  meet  with  its 
due   reward,    and   was   therefore 
sincerely  chagrined  at  the  applause 
with    which   Mr.  Dryden's   dra- 
matic  pieces  had  been  received, 
was  determined,    if  possible,    to 
shake    his  interest   at  court,  and 
succeeded  so  far  as  to  recommend 
Mr.  Crowne,    an   author   by  no 
means  of  equal  merit,  and  at  that 
time  of  an  obscure  reputation,  to 
write  a  masque  for  the  court,  which 
certainly  belonged  to  Mr.  Dryden's 
office  as  poet-laureat.     Nor  was 
this  the  only  attack,  nor  indeed  the 
most  potent  one,  that  Mr.  Dryden's 
justly-acquired  fame  drew  on  him ; 
for,  some  years  before,  the  Duke  of 
BuckinghajB,,  a  man  of  not  mucff 


201 


DRY 

tetter  character  than  Lord  Ro- 
chester, had  most  severely  ridiculed 
several  of  our  author's  plavs,  in  his 
admired  piece  called  The  Rehearsal. 
But  (hough  the  intrinsic  wit  which 
runs  through  that  performance  can- 
not even  to  this  hour  fail  of  excit- 
ing our  laughter,  yet  at  the  same 
time  it  ought  not  to  be  the  standard 
on  which  we  should  fix  Mr.  Dry- 
den's  poetical  reputation,  if  we 
consider  that  the  pieces  there  ridi- 
culed are  not  any  of  those  which  are 
looked  on  as  the  chef-d'ceuvres 
of  this  author  ;  that  the  very  pas- 
sages burlesqued  are  frequently, 
in  their  original  places,  much  less 
ridiculous  than  when  thus  de- 
tached, like  a  rotten  limb,  from 
the  body  of  the  work,  exposed 
to  view  with  additional  distortions, 
and  divested  of  that  connexion 
with  the  other  parts,  which,  while 
it  preserved,  gave  it  not  only  sym- 
metry but  beauty;  and  lastly,  that 
the  various  inimitable  excellencies, 
which  the  critic  has  sunk  in  obli- 
vion, are  infinitely  more  numerous 
than  the  deformities  which  he  has 
thus  industriously  brought  forth  to 
our  immediate  inspection. 

Mr.  Dryden,  however,  did  not 
suffer  these  attacks  to  pass  with 
impunity;  for,  in  iGjg,  there  came 
out  an  Essay  on  Satire,  said  to  be 
written  jointly  by  him  and  the 
Earl  of  Mulgrave,  containing  some 
very  severe  reflections  on  the  Earl 
of  Rochester  and  the  Dutches-,  of 
Portsmouth,  who,  it  is  not  impro- 
bable, might  be  a  joint  instrument 
in  the  above-mentioned  affront 
shown  to  Mr.  Dryden  ;  and,  in 
lOSI,  he  published  his  Absalom 
and  Achitqphel,  in  which  the  weil- 
known  character  of  Zimri,  drawn 
for  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  is 
certainly  severe  enough  to  repay 
all  the  ridicule  thrown  on  him  by 
rhat  nobleman,  in  the  character  of 


DRY 

Bayes.  The  resentment  shown  by 
the  two  peers  was  very  different  j 

Lord  Rochester,  who  was  a  coward 
as  well  as  a  man  of  the  most  de^ 
praved  morals,  basely  hired  three 
ruffians  to  cudgel  Dryden  in  a 
coffee-house ;  but  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  as  we  are  told,  in  a 
more  open  manner,  took  that  task 
on  himself,  and  at  the  .same  time 
presented  him  with  a  purse,  con- 
taining no  very  trifling  sum  of 
money;  telling  him,  that  he  gave 
him  the  beating  as  a  punishment 
for  his  impudence,  but  bestowed 
the  gold  on  him  as  a  reward  fyr 
his  wit. 

In  16SO  was  published  a  trans- 
lation of  Ovid's  Efiislles  in  English 
verse,  by  several  hands,  two  of 
which,  together  with  the  preface, 
were  by  Mr.  Dryden.  In  l6'S2 
came  out  his  Religio  Laid,  de- 
signed as  a  defence  of  revealed 
religion,  against  Deists,  Papists, 
&:c.  and  in  16S4  he  published  a 
translation  of  M.  Maimbourg's 
History  of  the  League,  which  he 
had  undertaken  by  the  command 
of  King  Charles  II.  On  the  death 
of  that  prince,  he  wrote  a  poem 
sacred  to  his  memory,  entitled, 
Thrcnodia  Augustalis. 

Soon  after  the  accession  of  Kin<^ 
James  II.  our  author  changed  his 
religion  for  that  of  the  church  of 
Rome,  and  wrote  two  pieces  in 
vindication  of  the  Romish  tenets, 
viz.  J  Defence  of  the  Papers  writ- 
ten ly  the  late  King,  of  {■ '  .  | 
Memory,  found  in  his  slron^  Bax\ 
and  the  celebrated  poem,  after-* 
wards  answered  by  Lord  Halifax 
and  Prior,  entitled  The  Hind  and 
the  Panther.  By  this  extraordinary 
step  he  not  only  engaged  himself 
in  controversy,  and  incurred  much 
censure  and  ridicule  from  his  con  - 
temporary  wits;  but,  on  the  coin. 
pie  lion  of  the  Resolution,  b-mr 


203 


DRY 

on  account  of  his  newly-chosen 
religion,  disqualified  from  bearing 
any  office  under  the  government, 
he  was  stripped  of  the  laurel, 
which,  to  his  still  greater  mortifi- 
cation, was  bestowed  on  Shadwell, 
a  man  to  whom  he  had  a  most 
settled  aversion  ;  and  on  whom  he 
had,  four  years  before,  written 
that  very  severe  poem,  called  Mac 
Flecknoe. 

It  has  been  commonly  stated, 
that  Mac  Flecknoe  was  written,  in 
resentment,  on  Shad  well's  suc- 
ceeding Dryden  in  the  laureatship; 
but  this  could  not  be  the  case,  as 
Mac  Flecknoe  was  printed  in  a 
collection  of  poems,  in  London, 
8vo.  1684,  and  Dryden  did  not 
lose  the  laurel  till  16S8.  To  add 
confirmation  to  this  assertion,  let 
it  be  observed,  that  Langbaine, 
who  well  knew  both  Dryden  and 
Shadwell,  and  had  an  evident  par- 
tiality for  the  latter,  makes  the 
following  remark  :  "  Mr.  Dryden, 
"  I  dare  presume,  little  imagined, 
"  when  'lie  writ  that  satire  of  Mac 
"  Fleckno,  that  the  subject  he 
"  there  so  much  exposes  and  ridi- 
"  cules,  should  have  ever  lived  to 
*'  have  succeeded  him  in  wearing . 
"  thebays."  Langs.  Dram.  Poet. 
p.  443,  edit.  lO'gi. 

Drydetfs  circumstances  had 
never  been  affluent;  but,  now  be- 
ing deprived  of  this  little  support, 
he  found  himself  reduced  to  the 
necessity  of  writing  for  mere  bread. 
We  consequently  find  him  from 
this  periodengaged  in  performances 
of  labour  as  well  as  genius,  viz.  in 
translating  works  of  others ;  and 
to  this  necessity  perhaps  our  na- 
tion stands  indebted  for  some  of 
the  best  translations  extant.  In  the 
year  he  lost  the  laurel,  he  pub- 
lished The  Life  of  St.  Francis  Xa- 
vier,  from  the  French.  In  16Q3 
came  out  a  translation  of  Juvenal 


DRY 

and  Pers'wj,  in  the  first  of  which 
he  had  a  considerable  hand,  and 
of  the  latter  the  entire  execution. 
In  l6y5  was  published  his  prose 
version  of  Fresnoy's  Art  of  Paint- 
ing; and  the  year  1697  gave  the 
world  that  translation  of  Virgil's 
works  entire,  which  still  does,  and 
perhaps  ever  will,  stand  foremost 
among  the  attempts  made  on  that 
author.  The  petite  pieces  of  this 
eminent  writer,  such  as  pro- 
logues, epilogues,  epitaphs,  ele- 
gies, songs,  &c.  are  too  numerous. 
to  be  specified  here.  They  have 
been  collected  into  volumes,  and 
are  now  incorporated  in  his  works 
among  the  English  poets.  His 
Fables,  the  last  work  he  published, 
consist  of  many  of  the  most  in- 
teresting stories  in  Homer,  Ovid, 
Boccace,  and  Chaucer,  translated 
or  modernized  in  the  most  elegant 
and  poetical  manner,  together  with 
some  original  pieces,  among  which 
is  that  amazing  Ode  on  St.  Cceci- 
lias  Dari ;  which,  though  written 
in  the  v<d~y  decline  of  its  author's 
life,  and  at  a  period  when  old  age 
and  distress  conspired  as  it  were  to 
damp  his  poetic  ardour  and  clip 
the  wings  cf  fancy,  yet  possesses 
so  much  of  both,  as  would  be  suf- 
ficient to  have  rendered  him  im- 
mortal, had  he  never  written  a 
single  line  besides. 

Dryden  married  the  Lady  Eli- 
zabeth Howard,  sister  to  the  Earl 
of  Berkshire,  who  survived  him 
eight  years,  though  for  the  last 
four  of  them  she  was  a  lunatic, 
having  been  deprived  of  her  senses 
by  a  nervous  fever.  By  this  lady 
he  had  three  sons,  who  all  survived 
him.  Tneir  names  were  Charles, 
John,  and  Henry.  Of  the  last  of 
these  we  can  trace  no  particulars. 
Of  the  second,  some  little  account 
will  be  given  in  the  succeeding 
article;  and  with  respect  to  th# 


203 


DRY 

eldest,  there  is  a  circumstance  re- 
J.t  :  :>y  diaries  Wilson,  Esq.  in 
his  life  of  Congreve,  which  seems 
so  well  attested,  and  is  itself  of  so 
verj  extraordinary  a  nature,  that 
we  cannot  avoid  admitting  it  io  a 
place  here.  The  event  is  as  fol- 
lows : 

Dryden,    with   all   his  under- 
standing, was  weak  enough  to  be 
io.      >f  judicial  aerology,  and  used 
to  calculate    the   nativity    of  his 
children.     When  his  lady  was  in 
labour  with   his  son  Charles,  he, 
being  told  it  was  decent  to  with- 
draw, laid  his  watch  on  the  table, 
beggh.g  one  of  the  ladies  then  pre- 
sent, in  a  most  solemn  manner,  to 
take  exact  notice  of  the  very  mi- 
nute the  child  was  born ;  which  she 
did,    and  acquainted   him   with  it. 
About  a  week  after,  when  his  lady 
was   pretty  well  recovered,    Mr. 
Dryden  took  occasion  to  tell  her 
that   he  had  been  calculating  the 
child's     nativity,     and    observed, 
with  grief,  that  he  was  born  in  an 
evil  hour,  for  Jupiter,  Venus,  and 
the  Sun,  were  all  under  the  earth, 
and  the  lord  of  his  ascendant  af- 
flicted  with   a    hateful  square  of 
Mars  and  Saturn.     "  If  he  lives  to 
"  arrive  at  the  8th  year,"  says  he, 
"  he  will  go  near  to  die  a  violent 
"  death  on  his  very  birth-day;  but 
"  if  he  should  escape,  as  I  see  but 
"  small  hopes,  he  will,  in  the  23d 
"  year,  be  under  the  very  same  evil 
"  direction  ;  and  if  he  should  escape 
"  that  also,  the  33d  or  34th  year 
"  is,  I  fear "    Here  he  was  in- 
terrupted by  the  immoderate  grief 
of  his  lady,  who  could  no  longer 
hear  calamity  prophesied   to  be- 
fall her  son.     The  time  at   last 
came,  and  August  was  the  inau- 
spicious- month  in  which  young 
Dryden  was  to  enter  into  the  8th 
year  of  his  age.     The  court  being 
in  progress  and  Mr.   Dryden  at 


DRY 

leisure,    he    was    invited    to   the 
country-seat  of  the  Earl  of  Berk- 
shire, his  brother-in-law,  to  keep 
the   long   vacation    with    him    at 
Charlton,  in  Wilts  5    his  lady  was 
invited  to  her  uncle  Mordaunt's^ 
to  pass  the  remainder  of  the  sum- 
mer.    When  they  came  to  divide" 
the  children,  Lady  Elizabeth  would 
have   him  take  John,  and   sulfer 
her  to  take  Charles;  but  Mr.  Dry- 
den  was  too  absolute,   and    \.\^y 
parted  in  anger;  he  took  Charles 
with  him,  and  she  was  obliged  to 
be  content  with  John.     When  the 
fatal  day  came,  the  anxiety  of  the 
lady's  spirits  occasioned   such   an 
effervescence  of  blood,  as  threw 
her  into  so  violent  a  fever,   that 
her  life  was  despaired   of,    till  a 
letter  came  from  Mr.  Dryden,  re- 
proving her  for  her  womanish  cre- 
dulity, and  assuring  her  that  her 
child  was  well,  which  recovered  her 
spirits;  and  in  six  weeks  after,  she 
received  an  eclaircisement  of  the 
whole  affair.     Mr.  Dryden,  either 
through   fear  of  being  reckoned 
superstitious,    or     thinking    it    a 
science  beneath  his  study,  was  ex- 
tremely cautious  of  letting  any  one 
know  that  he  was  a  dealer  in  as- 
trology ;   therefore  could  not  ex- 
cuse his  absence,  on  his  son's  an- 
niversary, from  a  general  hunting- 
match  Lord  Berkshire  had  made, 
to  which  all  the  adjacent  gentle- 
men were  invited.  When  he  went 
out,  he  took  care  to  set  the  boy 
a   double   exercise    in    the    Latin 
tongue,  which  he  taught  his  chil- 
dren himself,  with  a  strict  charge 
not  to  stir  out  of  the  room  till  his 
return;  well  knowing  the  task  he 
had*  set  him  would  take  up  longer 
time.    Charles  was  performing  his 
duty,  in  obedience  to  his  father; 
but,  as  ill  fate  would  have  it,   the 
stag  made  towards  the  house  ;  and 
the  noise  alarming   the  servants, 


204 


D  R  Y 

Aey  hasted  out  to  see  the  sport. 
One  of  them  took  young  Dryden 
by  the  hand,  and  led  him  out  to 
sec  it  also;  when,  just  as  they  came 
to  the  gate,  the  stag,  being  at  bay 
with  the  dogs,  made  a  bold  push, 
and  leaped  over  the  court  wall, 
which  was  very  low  and  very  old; 
and  the  dogs  following,  threw 
down  apart  of  the  wall,  ten  yards 
in  length,  under  which  Charles 
Dryden  lay  buried.  He  was  im- 
mediately dug  out,  and  after  six 
weeks  languishing  in  a  dangerous 
way  he  recovered:  so  far  Dryden's 
prediction  was  fulfilled.  In  the 
twenty-third  year  of  his  age, 
Charles  fell  from  the  top  of  an  old 
tower  belonging  to  the  Vatican 
at  Rome,  occasioned  by  a  swim- 
ming in  his  head,  with  which  he 
was  seized,  the  heat  of  the  day 
being  excessive.  He  again  reco- 
vered, but  was  ever  after  in  a 
languishing  sickly  state.  In  the 
thirty-third  year  of  his  age,  being 
returned  to  England,  he  was  un- 
happily drowned  at  Windsor.  He 
bad  with  another  gentleman  swum 
twice  over  the  Thames ;  but  re- 
turning a  third  time,  it  was  sup- 
posed he  was  taken  with  thecramp, 
because  he  called  out  for  help, 
though  too  late.  Thus  the  father's 
calculation  proved  but  too  pro- 
phetical. 

At  last,  after  a  long  life,  ha- 
rassed with  the  most  laborious  of  penses  of  our  poet's  funeral,  and 
all  fatigues,  viz.  that  of  the  mind,  afterwards  to  bestow  five  hundred 
and  continually  made  anxious  by  pounds  on  a  monument  in  the 
distress  and  difficulty,  our  author  Abbey  ;  which  generous  offer  was 
departed  this  life  on  the  first  of  accepted.  Accordingly,  on  Sunday 
May    1/01,  and  was  interred  in    following,    the  company  being  as- 


D  R  Y 
to  take  a  turn  in  the  little  garden 
behind  his  house  in  Gerard  Street, 
he  was  seized  with  such  a  violent 
pain  under  the  ball  of  the  great  toe 
of  his  right  foot,  that,  unable  to 
stand,  he  cried  out  for  help,  and 
was  carried  in  by  his  servants ; 
when,  upon  sending  for  surgeons, 
they  found  a  small  black  spot  in 
the  place  affected  ;  he  submitted 
to  their  present  applications,  and, 
when  gone,  called  his  son  Charles 
to  him,  using  these  words  :  "  I 
"  know  this  black  spot  is  a  morti- 
"  fication  :  I  know  also,  that  it 
(S  will  seize  my  head,  and  that  they 
"  will  attempt  to  cut  off  my  leg  ; 
"  but  I  command  you,  my  son, 
"  by  your  filial  duty,  that  you  do 
"  not  suffer  me  to  be  dismember- 
"  ed."  As  he  foretold,  the  event 
proved  ;  and  his  son  was  too  du- 
tiful to  disobey  his  father's  com- 
mands. 

On  the  Wednesday  morning 
following,  he  breathed  his  last, 
under  the  most  excruciating  pains, 
in  the  69th  year  of  his  age. 

The  day  after  Mr.  Dryden's 
death,  the  Dean  of  Westminster 
sent  word  to  Mr.  Dryden's  widow, 
that  he  would  make  a  present  of 
the  ground,  and  all  other  abbey- 
fees,  for  the  funeral  :  the  Lord 
Halifax  likewise  sent  to  the  Lady 
Elizabeth,  and  to  Mr.  Charles 
Dryden,  offering  to  defray  the  ex- 


Westminster  Abbey.  On  the  19th 
of  April  he  had  been  very  bad  with 
the  gout  and  erysipelas  in  one  leg; 
but  he  was  then  somewhat  reco- 
vered, and  designed  to  go  abroad; 
on  the  Friday  following  he  ate  a 
partridge  for  his  supper,  and  going 


sembled,  the  corpse  was  put  into  a 
velvet  hearse,  attended  by  eighteen 
mourning  coaches.  When  they 
were  just  ready  to  move,  Lord  Jef- 
ferys,  son  of  Lord  Chancellor  Jef- 
fervs,  a  name  dedicated  to  infamy, 
with  some  of  his  rakish  companions 


105 


DRY 


DRY 


riding  b\\  asked  whose  funeral  it 
was ;  and  being  told  it  was  Mr. 
Drvden's,  he  protested  he  should 
not  be  buried  in  that  private  man- 
ner; that  he  would  himself,  with 
the  Lady  Elizabeth's  leave,  have 
the  honour  of  the  interment,  and 
would  bestow  a  thousand  pounds 
on  a  monument  in  the  Abbey  for 
him.  This  put  a  stop  to  their 
procession ;  and  the  Lord  Jelferys, 
with  several  of  the  gentlemen  who 
had  alighted  from  their  coaches, 
went  up  stairs  to  the  lady,  who 
was  sick  in  bed.  His  Lordship  re- 
peated the  purport  of  what  he  had 
said  below;  but  the  Lady  Elizabeth 
refusing  her  consent,  he  fell  on 
his  knees,  vowing  never  to  rise  till 
his  request  was  granted.  The  lady, 
under  a  sudden  surprise,  fainted 
away;  and  Lord  Jelferys,  pretend- 
ing to  have  obtained  her  consent, 
ordered  the  body  to  be  carried  to 
Mr.  Russel's,  an  undertaker  in 
Cheapside,  and  to  be  left  there  till 
further  orders.  In  the  mean  time 
the  Abbey  was  lighted  up,  the 
ground  opened,  the  choir  attend- 
ing, and  the  bishop  waiting  some 
hours  to  no  purpose  for  the  corpse. 
The  next  day  Mr.  Charles  Dryden 
waited  on  my  Lord  Halifax  and 
the  bishop  ;  and  endeavoured  to 
excuse  his  mother,  by  relating  the 
truth.  Three  days  after,  the  un- 
dertaker, having  received  no  or- 
ders, waited  on  the  Lord  Jelferys j 
"who  pretended  it  was  a  drunken 
frolic,  that  he  remembered  nothing 
of  the  matter,  and  he  might  do 
what  he  pleased  with  the  body. 
Upon  this,  the  undertaker  waited 
on  the  Lady  Elizabeth,  who  desired 
a  day's  respite,  which  was  granted. 
Mr.  Charles  Dryden  immediately 
wrote  to  the  Lord  Jelferys,  who 
returned  for  answer,  that  he  knew 
nothing  of  the  matter,  and  would 
be  troubled  no  more  about  it.  Mr. 


Dryden  hereupon  applied  again  to 
the  Lord  Halifax  and  the  Bishop 
of  Rochester,  who  absolutelv  re- 
fused to  do  any  thing  in  the  affair* 

In  this  distress,  Dr.  Garth,  who 
had  been  Mr.  Dryden's  intimate 
friend,  sent  for  the  corpse  to  the 
College  of  Physicians,  and  pro- 
posed a  subscription  ;  which  suc- 
ceeding, about  three  weeks  after 
Mr.  Dryden's  decease,  Dr.  Garth 
pronounced  a  fine  Latin  oration 
over  the  body,  which  was  con- 
veyed from  the  College,  attended 
by  a  numerous  train  of  coaches,  to 
Westminster  Abbey,  but  in  very 
great  disorder.  At  last  the  corpse 
arrived  at  the  Abbey,  which  was 
all  unlighted.  No  organ  played, 
no  anthem  sung  ;  only  two  of  the 
singing  boys  preceded  the  corpse, 
who  sung  an  ode  of  Horace,  with 
each  a  small  candle  in  their  hand. 
When  the  funeral  was  over,  Mr. 
Charles  Dryden  sent  a  challenge 
to  Lord  Jefrerys,  who  refusing  to 
answer  it,  he  sent  several  others, 
and  went  often  himself;  but  could 
neither  get  a  letter  delivered,  nor 
admittance  to  speak  to  him ; 
which  so  incensed  him,  that,  find- 
ing his  Lordship  refused  to  answer 
him  like  a  gentleman,  he  resolved 
to  watch  an  opportunity,  and  brave 
him  to  fight,  though  with  all  the 
rules  of  honour ;  which  his  Lord- 
ship hearing,  quitted  the  town, 
and  Mr.  Charles  never  had  an  op- 
portunity to  meet  him,  though  he 
sought  it  to  his  death,  with  the 
utmost  application. 

Mr.  Dryden  had  no  monument 
erected  to  him  for  several  years; 
to  which  Mr.  Pope  alludes  in  his 
epitaph  intended  for  Mr.  Rowe, 
in  this  line: 

Beneath  a  rude  and  nameless  stone  he 

lies. 
In   a    note  upon  which    we   are 
informed.,  that  the  tomb  of  Mr. 


200 

DRY  DRY 

Drvden  was  erected  upon  ihis  hint,  he  underwent,  and  the  necessity  lie 
by  Sheffield  Duke  of  Buck  Ingham,  *c<::i.sequemly  lay  under  of  comply- 
to  which  was  originally  intended  ing  with  the  public  taste,  howevo? 
this  epitaph  :  depraved,  we  shall  surely  not  re- 
This  Sheffield  rais'd.    The  sacred  dust  fuse  our  pardon  to  the  compelled 

below  writer,  nor  our  credit  to  those  of 

Was  Dryden  once;   the  rest  who  does  his  contemporaries,  who  were  in- 

not  ^  timalely  acquainted  with  him,  and 

Which  was  afterwards  changed  into  who  have  assured  us  there  was  no- 

the  plain  inscription  now  upon  it,  thing  remarkably  vicious  in  his 
viz. 


I.  DRYDENj 

Natus  Au?.  v,  163 1. 

Mortuus  Ma  i  1,  170L 

Johannes  Sheffield,  Dux  Ruckinghami- 

ensis,  posuit. 

Mr.  Dart,  in  his  poem  on  West- 
minster Abbey,    takes   notice  of 


rial  character. 
From  some  parts  of  his  history 
he  appears  unsteady,  and  to  have 
too  readily  temporized  with  the 
several  revolutions  in  church  and 
state.  This,  however,  might  in 
some  measure  have  been  owing  to 


this ;  and,  after  having  mentioned    that  natural  tiraidity  and  diffidence 


something  of  Mr.  Dryden's  cha- 
racter, says : 

*'  This  Sheffield  knew,  nor  trifled  with 

hi;  fame ; 
**  But    only    bade  the  busto  bear  his 

name." 


in  his  disposition,  which  almost  all 
the  writers  seem  to  agree  in  his 
possessing.  Congreve,  whose  au- 
thority cannot  be  suspected,  has- 
given  us  such  an  account  of  him, 
as  makes  him  appear  no  less  ami- 
Mr.  Dryden's  character  has  been  aDle  in  his  private  character  as  a 
very  differently  drawn  by  differ-  raan>  than  he  was  illustrious  in  his 
ent  hands ;  some  of  which  have  public  one  as  a  poet.  In  the 
exalted  it  to  the  highest  degree  of  former  light,  according  to  that 
commendation,  and  others  debased  gentleman,  he  was  humane,  corn- 
it  to  the  severest  censure.  The  passionate,  forgiving,  and  sincerely 
latter,  however,  we  must  ascribe  to  friendly;  of  an  extensive  read- 
that  strong  spirit  of  party,  which  jrjgj  a  tenacious  memory,  and  a 
prevailed  during  great  part  of  rea(jy  communication ;  gentle  in 
Dryden's  time,  and  ought  there-  tne  corrections  of  the  writings  of 
fore  to  be  taken  with  great  allow-  others,  and  patient  under  the  re- 
ances.  Were  we  indeed  to  form  prehension  ofhis  own  deficiencies; 
a  judgment  of  the  author  from  ea3y  Gf  access  himself,  but  slow 
some  of  his  dramatic  writings,  we  anci  diffident  in  his  advances  to 
should  perhaps  be  apt  to  conclude  others ;  and  of  all  men  the  most 
him  a  man  of  the  most  licentious  modest  and  the  most  easy  to  be 
morals;  many  ofhis  comedies  con-  discountenanced  in  his  approaches, 
tabling  a  great  share  of  looseness,  either  to  his  superiors  or  his  equals, 
even  extending  to  obscenity ;  but  As  to  his  writings,  he  is  perhaps 
if  we  consider  that,  as  the  poet    tr)e  happiest  in  the  harmony  of  his 


tells  us, 

Those  who  live  to  please,  must  please  to 

live  ; 
if  we  then  look  back  on  the  scan 


numbers,  of  any  poet  who  ever 
lived  either  before  or  since  his 
time,  not  even  Mr.  Pope  himself 
excepted.     His  imagination  is  ever 


dalous  license  of  the  age  he  lived    warm,  his  images  are  noble,  his  de- 
in,  the  indigence  which  at  times    scriptions  beautiful,  and  his  sen- 


207 


DRY 

ti  meats  just  ami  becoming.  In 
his  prose  he  is  energetic  without 
bombast,  concise  without  pedantry, 
and  clear  without  prolixity.  As  a 
dramatist  he  has,  perhaps,  the  least 
merit  of  all  his  writings;  and,  in- 
deed, the  fair  confession  which  he 
has  made  of  his  unfitness  for  the 
writing  of  comedy  (and  his  comic 
pieces  it  is  that  have  been  the  most 
severely  handled  by  the  critics) 
would,  one  might  imagine,  hue 
been  sufficient  to  silence  the  cla- 
mour of  that  snarling  band.  The 
passage  is  in  his  admirable  Essay 
on  Dramatic  Poetry .-  "  I  want 
"  (says  he)  that  gaiety  of  humour 
"  that  is  required  in  it.  My  con- 
"  versation  is  slow  and  dull,  my 
"  humour  saturnine  and  reserved. 
"  In  short,  I  am  none  of  those  who 
"  endeavour  to  break  jests  in  com- 
"  pany,  and  make  repartees ;  so 
"  that  those  who  decry  my  corae- 
"  dies,  do  me  no  injury,  except  it 
"  be  in  point  of  profit.  Reputa- 
"  tion  in  them  is  the  last  thing  to 
"  which  I  shall  pretend." 

In  tragedy  also  he  seems  to  have 
been  very  diffident  of  his  own  me- 
rit, and  conscious  of  the  disad- 
vantages he  lay  under  from  his 
compelled  necessity  of  rendering 
his  pieces  popular;  and  though 
there  are  many  of  them  which  are 
Iruly  excellent,  yet  he  tells  us, 
that  he  never  wrote  any  thing  in 
the  dramatic  way  to  please  himself 
but  his  All  for  Love.  Mr.  Con- 
greve  has  borne  the  following 
strong  testimonial  to  his  poetical 
merit  : 

*'  I  may  venture  (says  that  gen- 
*'  tleman)  to  say,  in  general  terms, 
"  that  no  man  has  written  in  our 
'*  language  so  much,  and  such 
"  various  matter,  and  in  so  va- 
"  rious  manners,  so  well.  Another 
"  thing,  I  may  say,  was  very  pe- 
f*  culiar  to  him;  which  is,  that  his 
2 


DRY 

"  p.irts  did  not  decline  with  hi« 
"  years,  but  that  he  was  an  im- 
"  proved  writer  to  the  last,  even 
'*  to  near  seventy  years  of  age  j 
"  improving  even  in  fire  and  ima- 
"  ginatiod  as  well  as  in  judgment  ; 
"  witness  his  Ode  on  St.  Ccecilia's 
"  Day,  and  his  Fables,  his  latest 
"  performance.  He  was  equally 
"  excellent  in  verse  and  prose. 
"  His  prose  had  all  the  clearness 
"  imaginable,  without  deviating 
"  into  the  language  or  diction  of 
"  poetry.  In  his  poems,  his  die- 
"  tion  is,  whenever  his  subject  re- 
"  quires  it,  so  sublime,  and  so  truly 
"  poetical,  that  its  essence,  lika 
"  that  of  pure  gold,  cannot  be 
"  destroyed.  Take  his  verses,  and 
"  clivest  them  of  their  rhymes, 
"  disjoint  them  of  their  numbers, 
"  transpose  theirexpressions,  make 
"  what  arrangement  or  disposition 
"  you  please  in  his  words ;  yet 
"  shall  there  eternally  be  poetry, 
"  and  something  which  will  be 
'<  found  incapable  of  being  re- 
"  duced  to  absolute  prose.  What 
"  he  has  done  in  any  one  species 
"  or  distinct  kind  of  writing  would 
"  have  been  sufficient  to  have  ac- 
"  quired  him  a  very  great  name. 
"  If  he  had  written  nothing  but 
"  his  prefaces,  or  nothing  but  his 
*'  songs  and  his  prologues,  each 
"  of  them  would  have  entitled 
"  him  to  the  preference  and  dis- 
<c  tinction  of  excelling  in  its 
"  kind." 

To  the  foregoing,  let  us  add 
these  lines  by  Mr.  Addison,  in  his 
Account  of  the  greatest  English 
Poets,  written  April  3,   1694: 

"  But  see  where  artful  Dryden  next  ap- 
pears, 

"  Grown  old  in  ihyme,  but  charming 
ev'n  in  years. 

"  Great  Dryden  next !  whose  tunefuL 
Muse  affords 

"  The  sweetest  numbers,  arjd  the  fittest 
lyordsy 


505 


DRY 


"  Whether  in  comic  sounds  or  tragic  airs 
*'  She   forms  her  voice,  she  moves  our 

smiles  or  tears. 
•'  If  satire,  or  heroic  strains,  she  writes, 
**  Hei  hero  pleases,  and  her  satire  bite?. 
"  Fforn  her  no  har^h  unartful  numbers 

fall; 
ic  She  wear^  all  dresses,  and  she  charms 

in.  ail." 

Besides  his  other  numerous 
writings,  he  was  author  of,  and 
concerned  in,  the  following  dra- 
matic pieces,  viz. 

1.  The  Wild,  Gallant.  C.  Acted 
l603.  This  was  bis  first  piece, 
but  we  beiievc  not  printed  before 
J  669.     4to. 

2.  The  Rival  Ladies.  T.  C.  4to. 
1664. 

3.  The  Indian  Emperour.  T.  C. 
4to.  1667. 

4.  Secret  Love ;  or,  The  Maiden 
Queen.     T.  C.     4to.  I66S. 

5.  Sir  Martin  Mar-all.  C.  4to. 
1668. 

6.  The  Tempest.  C.    4 to.  I67O. 
7-    Tyrannick   Love ;    or,     The 

Boyal  Martyr.     T.     4to.  I67O. 

S.  Art  Evening's  Love ;  or,  The 
Nock  Astrologer.      C.     4to.  1 67 1 . 

9.  The  Conquest  of  Granada.  T. 
4to.  1672. 

IQ.Almanzor  and  Almahide;  or, 
The  Conquest  of  Granada.  Part  II. 
4to.  1672. 

1 1 .  Marriage  Alamode.  C.  4to. 
I673. 

12.  The  Assignation  ;  or,  Love 
in  a  Nunnery.     C.     4 to.  1673. 

13.  Amhoyna.     T.     4to.  I673. 

14.  The  State  of  Innocence,  and 
Fall  of  Man.     O.     4to.  I676. 

15.  Aurengzebe.   T.    4to.  1676. 

16.  All  for  Love.  T.  4to.  16/8. 

17.  OEdipus.     T.     4to.  I679. 

18.  Troitus  and  Cressida.  T. 
4to.  1679. 

19.  The  Kind  Keeper  ;  or,  Mr. 
Limber  ham.     C.     4to.  1680. 

20.  The  Spanish  Fryar.  T.  C. 
4tol  1081. 


DRY 

21.  The  Duke  of  Guise.  T.  4to. 
1633. 

22.  Albion  and  Albanius.  Op. 
Fol.  168.5. 

23.  Don  Sebastian.  T.  4to.  1600. 

24.  Amphytrion.  C.    4to.  lopo. 

25.  King  Arthur.  D.  O.  4  to. 
1691. 

26.  Cleomenes  ;  or,  The  Spartan 
Hero.     T.     4  to.  1692. 

27.  Love  triumphant.  T.C.  4to. 
1694. 

He  also  brought  upon  the  stage  a 
play,  of  which  he  only  wrote  one 
scene,  called 

The  Mistaken  Husband.  Com. 
4to.  1675. 

The  disorderly  manner  in  which 
Dryden's  funeral  was  conducted  is 
ascertained  by  a  satirical  poem, 
entitled  Description  of  Mr.  Dry- 
den's Funeral,  printed  in  fol.  1/00, 
The  author  of  these  verses,  how- 
ever, makes  no  mention  of  the 
outrages  said  to  have  been  com- 
mitted by  the  son  of  Lord  Jefferys. 
Had  such  a  circumstance  happen- 
ed, he  hardly  would  have  omitted 
it.  This  writer  asserts,  that  the 
expense  of  the  funeral  was  de» 
frayed  by  Lord  Halifax  : 

"  — such  as  wrote  our  country  to  enslave, 
"  His  kindness  follows  even  to  the  grave. 
"  He  the  great  bard  at  his  awn  charge  in- 
ters, 
"  And  dying  vice  to  living  worth  prefers." 

The  following  lines,  in  which 
Dr.  Garth  is  described,  are  not 
without  merit : 

"  But  stay,  my  Muse,  the  learned  Garth 

appears, 
"  He  sighing  come1;,  and  is  half  drown'd 

in  tears ; 
<l  The  famous  Garth,  whom  learned  poets 

call 
"  Knight  of  the  order  of  the  urinal. 
"  He  of  Apollo  learn'd  his  wondrous  skill, 
"  He  taught  him  how  to  ting,  and  hovr 

to  kill  ; 


DRY 

"  For  all  he  sends  unto  the  darksome 

grave 
"  He  honours  also  with  an  epitaph  *. 
"  He  entertain'd  the  audience  with  ora- 
tion, 
"  Though  very  new,  yet  something  out 

of  fashion  ; 
"  But  'cause  the  hearers  are  with  learning 

blest, 
"  He  said  it  in  the  language  of  the  beast ; 
"  But  so  pronoune'd,  the  sound  and  sense 

agrees 
"  A  country  mouse  talks  better  in    a 

cheese. 
"  — Next   him  the  sons  of  music  pass 

along, 
n  And   murder   Horace    in   confounded 

song,  > 

"  Whose  monument,  more  durable  than 

brass, 
"  Is  now  defae'd  by  every  chanting  ass. 
"  No  man,  at  Tyburn  doom'd  to  take  a 

swinging, 
"  Would  stay   to  hear   such  miserable 

singing." 

From  an  epigram  printed  shortly 
after  his  death,  we  learn  that  Dry- 
den  had  a  severe,  unanimated  coun- 
tenance : 

*'  A  slee/y  eye  he  shows,  and  no  street 
feature, 

"  Yet  was  in  truth  a  favourite  of  na- 
ture." 

See  Epigrams  on  the  Pahitings 
of  the  most  eminent  Masters,  by 
J.  C.  Esq.  8vo.  1700. 

As  curiosity  is  interested  in  every 
particular  relating  to  so  great  a 
poet,  the  following  anecdotes  are 
perhaps  worth  preserving :  "  I 
"  remember  plain  John  Drvden 
"  (says  a  writer  in  The  Gentleman  s 
"  Magazine,  for  February  17-15, 
"  who  was  then  eighty-seven  years 
"  of  age),  before  he  paid  his  court 
s(  to  the  great,  in  one  uniform 
"  clothing  of  Norwich  drugget. 
"  I  have  eat  tarts  with  him  and 
"  Madam  Reeve  [an  actrees,  who 
"  was  Dryden's  mistress,  and  the 

*  Mr.Oldys,  in  one  of  his  MSS.  men- 
tions, that  Garth's  epitaph  on  Dryden  was 
in  his  possession.     It  is  not  however,  w<f 
believe,  now  extanfc 
VOL.  I. 


209 

DRY 

"  original  performer  of  Amarillis 
"  in  The  Rehearsal'],  at  the  Mul- 
*.'  berry  Garden,  when  our  author 
"  advanced  to  a  sword  and  che- 
"  dreux  wig.  [This  was  probably 
"  the  wig  that  Swift  has  ridiculed 
"in  The  Battle  of  the  Books.'] 
"  Posterity  is  absolutely  mistaken 
"  as  to  that  great  man.  Though 
"  forced  to  be  a  satirist,  he  was 
"  the  mildest  creature  breathing, 
"  and  the  readiest  to  help  the 
"  young  and  deserving.  Though 
"  his  comedies  are  horribly  full  of 
"  doulle  entendre,  yet  it  was  ow- 
"  ing  to  a  false  compliance  for  a 
"  dissolute  age  :  he  was  in  com- 
"  pany  the  modestest  man  that 
"  ever  conversed." 

He  had,  however,  as  Dr.  John- 
son has  observed,  no  mean  opi- 
nion of  his  own  abilities.  Of  this 
an  anecdote,  which  a  late  learned 
judge  used  to  relate  to  Lis  son,  af- 
terwards a  dignitary  in  the  church, 
is  a  sufficient  proof.  In  his  youth 
he  frequented  Will's  coffee-house, 
and  occasionally  entered  into  con- 
versation with  the  old  bard.  Soon 
after  the  first  appearance  of  Alex- 
ander's Feast,  he  congratulated  the 
author  on  his  having  produced  an 
ode  which  the  whole  town  con- 
sidered as  the  best  composition  of 
that  kind  that  had  ever  been  writ- 
ten. "  Why,  it  is  so'  (said  Dry- 
"  den)  ;  and  I  will  tell  you  further, 
"  young  man ;  it  is  the  best  ode 
"  that  ever  will  be  written." 

For  the  first  play  of  Dryden, 
which  was  published  by  the  elder 
Tonson,  the  price  gi  ven  was  twenty 
pounds.  This  sum  the  bookseller 
(whose  shop  was  then  in  the  street 
near  Gray's  Inn)  was  unable  to 
raise  without  applying  to  Abel 
Swale,  then  a  bookseller  in  Little 
Britain,  who  advanced  the  money 
for  a  moiety  of  the  profits.  Thje 
play  sold ;    and  Tonson  was  en? 


210 


1.  The  Divorce.     M.E.    4to. 
1771. 

2.  The  Haunted  Grove.    M.  E. 
1772.     N.  P. 

Dubois,  P.  B.    a  bachelor  of 
St.  Mary  Hall,  Oxford,  translated 


DUB  D  U  f 

abled  by  it  to  purchase  the  sue-        1.   The  Divorce.     M.E. 
ceeding  ones  on  his  own  bottom- 

Dryden,  John,  Jun.  This 
gentleman  was  second  son  to  the 
great  poet  last  mentioned.  He 
went  early  to  Rome,  where  he  was 
entertained  by  the  Pope  as  one  of  from  the  Italian 
the  gentlemen  of  his  bedchamber,  Aminta.  Past.  Com. 
and  at  which  place  he  died ;  but 
in  what  year  that  event  happened 
we  cannot  trace  with  certainty. 
It  is  probable  he  did  not  long  sur- 
vive his  father.  In  1/00  and  1/01, 
he  accompanied  Mr.  Cecill  in  a 
voyage  to  Sicily  and  Malta,  of 
which   a   narrative    by    him    was 


published    in   Svo.    1//6,    by   an 


12mo. 
1726. 

Dudley,  Henry  Bate,  is  the 
son  of  a  clergyman,  who  had  a 
living  at  or  near  Chelmsford,  in 
Essex  j  and  is  himself  in  holy 
orders,  LL.  D.  and  chancellor  of 
the  diocese  of  Ferns,  in  Ireland. 
Mr. Dudley  has  distinguished  him- 
self as  a  magistrate  for  the  county 


anonymous  editor,  who  dates  his  of  Essex,  and  as  a  land-improver, 

death  a  few  months  after  his  return  in  which  latter  character  he  has 

to  Rome.     He  translated  also  the  obtained  the  gold  medal  from  the 

14th  Satire  of  Juvenal;  and,  while  Society  of  Arts.     He  is  also  well 

abroad,  wrote  one  play,  which  he  known  as  a  political  writer,  and  as 

sent  over  to  his   father,  who   at  the   original    projector   and   con- 

iength   brought  it   on  the   stage,  ductor    of    The   Morning  Herald 


thought  not  till  some  years  after  it 
was  written.     It  is  entitled 

The  Husland  his  own  Cuckold. 
C.    4to.  1696. 

Dubois,  Dorothea,  was  the 
wife  of  a  musician,  and  daughter 
of  the  Earl  of  Anglesea,  by  Anne 
Sympson,  a  lady  who  asserted  her- 
self to  be  wife  of  his  Lordship, 


though  disowned  by  him.    In  con-    Svo.  1//9- 


newspaper.    His  dramatic  produc- 
tions are  as  follow: 

1.  Henry  and  Emma.     Interl, 
Svo.  1774. 

2.  T/i£  Rival  Candidates.    Com. 
Op.     Svo.  1/75. 

3 .  The  Blackamoor  wash'd  White, 
Com.  Op.     1776.     N.  P. 

4.  The  Flitch  of  Bacon.     C.  O. 


sequence  of  this  disputed  right, 
the  present  lady  was  never  ac- 
knowledged as  legitimately  be- 
longing to  the  family,  but  passed 
«iost  of  her  life  in  great  indigence 
and  ineffectual  attempts  to  establish 
her  claim  to  that  distinction,  which 
she  also  used  in  the  title-pages  of 
her  writings,  calling  herself  the 
Rt.  Hon.  Lady  Dorothea  Dubois. 
She  printed  an  account  of  her  own 


5.  Dramatic  Puffers.  Prel.  8vo. 
1782. 

6.  Magic  Picture.  P.  8vo.l7S3- 

7.  The  Woodman.     C.  O.    Svo. 

1791. 

8.  Travellers  in  Switzerland, 
C.  O.    Svo.  1794. 

Duffet,  Thomas.  This  au- 
thor was  a  milliner  in  the  New 
Exchange ;  but,  his  genius  leading 
him  to  dramatic  poetry,  he  wrote 


Story  in  a  work  called  Theodora,  a  several  pieces  for  the  stage,  which 

novel,  in  two 'vols.    17/0;   pub-  at  first  met  with  good  success,  but 

li'shed  The  Lady's  Polite  Secretary,  afterwards  sunk  into  contempt  and 

177 1  ;  and  died  in  Dublin  about  oblivion:  and,  indeed,  the  favour- 

Janujuy  1774.     She  wrote,  able  reception  they  found  at  their 


211 


DUF 
first  appearance,  seems  not  to  have 
been  so  much  owing  to  the  genius 
of  their  author,  which  was  but  of 
a  very  moderate  rank,  as  to  that 
fondness  of  abuse  and  scurrility 
which  has  been  almost  at  all  times 
prevalent  with  the  public ;  and 
Mr.  Duffet  stood  more  indebted  to 
the  great  names  of  those  authors 
whose  works  he  attempted  to  bur- 
lesque and  ridicule,  viz.  Dryden, 
Shadwell,  and  Settle,  than  to  any 
merit  of  his  own.     Travestie  and 


DUN 

5.  Beauty's  Triumph.    M.    4tO. 
1676. 

6.  Psyche  Debauch' d.  C.  4to. 
16/8. 

Among  these,  however,  the  first 
is  every  where  mentioned  as  by  an 
unknown  author,  excepting  by 
Langbaine,  who  attributes  it  to 
this  writer. 

Duncan,  Ged.  A  person  of 
this  name  is  author  of 

1  he  Constant  Lover.  P.  8vo.  1 793. 

Duncombe,   William.     This 


in  Hertfordshire.  He  married  a 
sister  of  Mr.  Hughes,  author  of 
The  Siege  of  Damascus,  and  was 
the  writer  and  editor  of  several 
agreeable  works.  He  assisted  Mr. 
Hughes-  in'  writing    the    tragedy 


burlesque  will  ever  create  a  laugh ;  gem  lemari  was  the  younger  son  of 
but,  however  intended,  can  never  John  Duncombe,  Esq.  of  Stocks, 
do  any  essential  hurt  to  perform- 
ances of  real  worth  ;  nor  could  The 
Mock  Tempest,  Psyche,  or  Empress 
of  Morocco,  lessen,  in  the  opinion 
of  the  judicious,  the  value  or  the 
originals  on  which  they  are  found- 
ed :  and,  although  now  and  then  of  Sophy  Mirza ,  and  afterwards 
a  great  genius  and  a  true  fund  of  obliged  the  world  with  an  edition, 
humour  may  stamp  immortality  on  in  2  vols.  I2mo.  of  Mr.  Hughes'* 
a  burlesque,  as  in  the  case  of  Scar-  works,  to  which  he  prefixed  an 
ron's  Virgil  Travestie,  and  Cotton's  account  6f  his  life.  Mr.  Duncombe 
Scarronides;  yet,  where  a  deficiency  died  "Feb."  26,  \76cf,  at  the  age  of 
of  those  brilliant  qualities  is  appa-  fourscore  years*, 
rent,  and  a  vein  of  scurrility  and 
personal  ill-nature  indulged,  as  in 
the    above-named   works   of  Ma 

Duffet,  though  they  may  for  a  short 

period  draw-in  the  public  to  join 

in  the  laugh  with  them,  yet  it  will 

constantly  be   found,    in    a    little 

time,  to  exchange  it  for  laughing 

at  them,  and  at  length  to  condemn 

them  to  a  perpetual  obscurity  and 

contempt. 

The  pieces  Mr.  Duffet  has  left 

behind  him,  the  best  of  which  were 

those  which  met  with  the  worst 

success,  are  six  in  number,  viz. 
1.  Amorous  old  IVoman.  C.  4to. 

1674. 
_  2.  Spanish    Rogue.      C.      4to. 

1674. 

3.  Empress  of  Morocco.  F.  4to. 

1674. 

:   4.  Mock  Tempest.     4to.  1675. 


His  dramatic  works'  are, 

t.  Athal'wh.     T.     Svo.  1/22. 

2.  Lucius  Junius  B-utus.  T. 
Svo.  1735;    12  mo.  1747. 

Dunlap,  William,  an  Ame- 
rican dramatist,  who  has  produced 
the  following  pieces : 

1.  The  Archers.   O.    Svo.  1 796. 

2.  Tdl  Truth  and  Shame  tU 
•Devil.     C.     Svo.  1/07. 

3.  Andre.     T.     Svo.  J79S. 

4.  Abael/ino,  'the  Great  Bandit.' 
P.     12mo.  1802. 

Dunlop,  .     To  a  person 

of  this  name  we  have  seen  ascribed 
a  piece  called 

Darby's  Return.      17SQ. 

Dunster,  Charles,  an  ele- 
gant scholar,  acute  critic,  artd  in- 
genious poet,  who  has  distinguish- 
ed himself  as  the  editor  of  Philips's 
Cider,  and  Milton's  Paradise  Re- 
?  2 


212 


1)UR 


D  U  R 


gamed,  with  some  valuable  notes. 
He  is  also  the  translator  i'rom 
Aristophanes  of 

The  Frogs.     C.     4to.  1/85. 
Dupuis,ThomasSkelton.  To 
a   writer  of  this  name  we   find 
ascribed 

Elijah.     Orat.     4to.  1?80. 
D'Ukiey,  Thomas.     This  au- 
thor, who  is  more  generally  spoken 
of  by  the  familiar  name  of  Tom, 
was  descended  from  an  ancient  fa- 
mily in  France.     His  parents,  be- 
ing Hugonots,  fled  from  Rochel^e 
before  it  was  besieged  by  Lewis 
illl.   in    1628,    and    settled    at 
Exeter,  where  this  their  son  was 
born,  but  in  what  year  is  uncer- 
tain.    He  was  originally  bred  to 
the  law ;  but  soon  finding  that  pro- 
fession too  saturnine  for  his  volatile 
and  lively  genius,  he  quitted  it,  to 
become  a  devotee  of  the  Muses ; 
in  which  he  met  with  no  small  suc- 
cess.    His  dramatic  pieces,  which 
are  very  numerous,  were  in  general 
well  received  ;    yet  there  is  not 
one  of  them  now  on  the  muster- 
roll  of  acting  plays;   that  licen- 
tiousness of  intrigue,  looseness  of 
sentiment,  and  indelicacy  of  wit, 
which  were  their  strongest  recom- 
mendations to  the  audiences  for 
whom  they  were  written,  having 
very  justly  banished   them   from 
the  stage  in  this  period  of  purer 
taste.     Yet  are  they  very  far  from 
being  totally  devoid  of  merit.  The 
plots  are  in  general  busy,  intricate, 
and  entertaining  ;    the  characters 
not  ill  drawn,  although  rather  too 
farcical ;  and  the  language,  if  not 
perfectly  correct,  is  yet  easy,  and 
well  adapted  for  the  dialogue  of    dered  him  fifty  guineas 


casious,  and  were  of  no  little 
service  to  the  party  in  whose  cause 
he  wrote;  which,  together  with 
his  natural  vivacity  and  good- 
humour,  obtained  him  the  favour 
of  great  numbers  of  persons  of  all 
ranks  and  conditions.  The  Duke 
of  Albemarle,  son  of  General 
Monk,  had  him  frequently  at  his 
table  to  divert  his  company  in  that 
way  ;  of  which  he  was  not  a  little 
vain,  as  we  may  gather  from  part 
of  a  song  made  upon  him  at  that 
time : 

-*'  Me  prat£s  like  a  parict ; 

"  He  sups  with  the  Duke, 
"  And  he  lies  in  a  garret." 

Nay,  even  crowned  heads  have 
condescended  to  admit  him  to  their 
presence,  and  seemed  not  a  little 
diverted  by  him.  It  is  no  wonder 
to  hear  this  of  so  merry  a  monarch 
as  Charles  the  Second  ;  but  even 
King  William,  who  was  of  so  re- 
served a  temper,  and  so  little  fond 
of  music,  or  any  amusements  of 
that  kind,  would  needs  have  D'Ur- 
fey  one  night  to  sing  to  him  ;  and 
a  gentleman,  who  was  commanded 
to  accompany  his  voice  with  his 
instrument,  related,  that  the  King 
laughed  very  heartily,  and  ordered 
him  a  present ;  but  not  quite  so 
much  as  Queen  Anne  afterwards 
gave  him  for  singing  a  song  to  her, 
written  on  purpose  to  ridicule  that 
worthy  and  respectable  lady  the 
Princess  Sophia,  ElectressDowager 
of  Hanover;  which  began, 

"  The  crown  is  too  weighty 
*'  For  shoulders  of  eighty  ;" 

and  for  which  Her  Majesty  or- 


comedy.  But  what  obtained  Mr. 
D'Urfey  his  greatest  reputation, 
was  a  peculiarly  happy  knack 
he  possessed  in  the  writing  of  sa- 
tires and  irregular  odes.  Many 
of  these  were  upon  temporary  oc- 


He  was  strongly  attached  to  the 
Tory  interest;  and,  in  the  latter 
part  of  Queen  Anne's  reign,  had 
frequently  the  honour  of  diverting 
that  Princess  with  witty  catches 
and  songs  of  humour,  suited  to  the 


213 


DUR 

spirit  of  the  times,  written  by  him- 
self, and  which  he  sung  in  a  lively 
and  entertaining  manner:  and  the 
author  of  The  Guardian,  who,  in 
No.  67,  has  given  a  very  humo- 
rous account  of  Mr.  D'Urfey,  with 
a  view  to  recommend  him  to  the 
public  notice  for  a  benefit  play, 
tells  us,  th3t  he  remembered  King 
Charles  II.  leaning  on  Tom  D'Ur- 
fey's  shoulder  more  than  once,  and 
humming  over  a  song  with  him. 

He  was  certainly  a  very  divert- 
ing companion,  and  a  cheerful, 
honest,  good-natured  man ;  so  that 
he  was  the  delight  of  the  most  po- 
lite companies  and  conversations, 
from  the  beginning  of  Charles  II.'s 
to  the  latter  part  of  King  Geo.  I.'s 
reign ;  and  many  an  honest  gentle- 
man got  a  reputation  in  his  coun- 
ty by  pretending  to  have  been  in 
company  with  Tom  D'Urfey:  yet, 
so  universal  a  favourite  as  he  was, 
it  is  apparent,  that,  towards  the 
latter  part  of  his  life,  he  stood  in 
need  of  assistance  to  prevent  his 
passing  the  remainder  of  it  in  a 
cage  like  a  singing-bird ;  for,  to 
speak  in  his  own  words,  as  repeated 
by  the  above-named  author,  "  af- 
"  ter  having  written  more  odes 
"  than  Horace,  and  about  four 
"  times  as  many  comedies  as  Te- 
"  rence,  he  found  himself  re- 
"  duced  to  great  difficulties  by  the 
"  importunities  of  a  set  of  men, 
"  who  of  late  years  had  furnished 
"  him  with  the  accommodations 
"  of  life,  and  would  not,  as  we 
"  say,  be  paid  with  a  song."  Mr. 
Addison  then  informs  us,  that,  in 
order  to  extricate  him  from  these 
difficulties,  he  himself  immediate- 
ly applied  to  the  directors  of  the 
playhouse,  who  very  generously 
agreed  to  act  The  Plotlrng  Sisters, 
a  play  of  Mr.  D'Urfey's,  for  the 
benefit  of  its  author.  What  the  re- 
sult of  this  benefit  wasj  does  not 


D  U  R 

appear  j  but  \\  was  probably  suffi- 
cient to  make  him  easy,  as  we  find 
him  living  and  continuing  to  write 
with  the  same  humour  and  liveli- 
ness to  the  time  of  his  death,  which 
happened  on  the  26th  of  February 
1/23.  What  was  his  age  at  this 
time  is  not  certainly  specified  any 
where;  but  he  must  have  been  con- 
siderably advanced  in  life;  his  first 
play,  which  could  scarcely  have 
been  written  before  he  was  twenty 
years  of  age,  having  made  its  ap- 
pearance tbrty-seven  years  before. 
He  was  buried  in  the  church- 
yard of  St.  James's,  Westminster; 
against  the  wall  in  the  south-west 
angle  of  which  church,  on  the 
outside,  is  erected  a  stone  to  his 
memory,  with  this  inscription : 
"  Tom  Durfky  died  Feb.  26, 
"  1723." 

Those  who  have  a  curiosity  to 
see  his  ballads,  sonnets,  &c.  may 
find  a  large  number  of  them 
brought  together  in  a  collection 
in  six  volumes  in  duodecimo,  l7f9» 
entitled  Wit  and  Mirth ;  or,  Pills 
to  purge  Melancholy  ;  of  which 
The  Guardian,  in  No.  29,  speaks 
in  very  favourable  terms.  The. 
titles  of  his  dramatic  pieces  may 
be  found  in  the  ensuing  list : 

1 .  Siege  of  Memphis.  T.  4to. 
I676. 

2.  Fond  Husland ;  or,  The  Plot' 
ting  Sisters.     C.  4to.  1676. 

3.  Madam  Fickle.  C.  4to.  1 677. 

4.  Fool  timid  Critic.  C.  4to. 
1678. 

5.  Trick  for  Trick.  C.  4to.l67S? 
0:S'/uireOld-Sapp.C.  4to.  1670. 

7.  Virtuous  Wife.  C.  4to.  10SO. 

8.  Sir  Barnahi  Whisg.  C.  4to. 
1031. 

Q.  Royalist.     C.     4to.  1632. 

10.  Injur  d  Princess.  T.  C.  4to. 
1082. 

1 1 .  Commonwealth  of  Wonien* 
Play.     4to.  1686. 

p3 


214 


D  U  R 

12.  Banditti.    Play 


4to.  1686. 
Fool's  preferment.    C.   4r.o. 


4to. 


4to. 


13 

1688 

14.  Bussy  D'slmhois. 
1691. 

15.  Love  for  Money. 

1691. 

10.  Marriage-hater  match'd.  C. 
4to.  1692. 

1/.  Richmond  Heiress.  C.  4to. 
I603. 

18.  .Dow  Quixote.  C.  Part  I. 
4to.  1694. 

19.  Don  Quixote.  C.  Part  II. 
4to.  1094. 

20.  Dow  Quixote.  C.  Part  III. 
4to.   I696. 

21.  Cynthia  andEndymion.  D.O. 
4lo.  1697. 

22.  Intrigues  at  Versailles.  C. 
4to.  1697. 

23.  Campaigners.  Cora.  4to. 
169S. 

24.  Massaniello.  Play,  in  two 
Parts.     4to.  1699;   4to.  1700. 

25     Ba/A.     C.     4to.  1701. 

26.  Wonders  in  the  Sun.  C.  O. 
4to.  1706. 

27.  Modern  Prophets.  C.  4to. 
ND.  [1/09.] 

28.  Old  Mode  and  the  New,  C. 
4to.    N.  D.  [1709.] 


D  Y  M 

The  Tun  Queens  of  Brent- 
M.  F.     8vo.  1721. 
Grecian  Heroine.     T.     8vo. 


29. 
ford. 

.  30. 
1721. 

3 1 .  Ariadne.     O.     8vo.  1/21. 
After  his  death  was  published, 

32.  The  English  Stage  Italian- 
ized.    D.  E.     8vo.  1727. 

Dutton,  Thomas,  A.M.  has 
published 

Pixarro  in  Peru.  8vo.  N.  D. 
[1799-] 

Dwyer,  P.  W.  We  find  one 
dramatic  piece  ascribed  to  a  person 
of  this  name  ;  viz. 

The  Soldier  of  Fortune.  Cora, 
8vo.     N.  D. 

Dymock,  .  To  a  gentle- 
man of  this  name  may  be  ascribed 
a  translation  from  Guarini,  of 
which  two  editions  were  printed 
in  the  17th  century.  In  the  dedi- 
cation of  the  first  to  Sir  Edward 
Dymock,  the  translator,  who  is 
spoken  of  as  his  near  kinsman,  is 
mentioned  to  be  then  dead ;  and 
from  the  second,  to  Charles  Dy- 
mock, Esq.  it  may  be  inferred  that 
he  was  that  gentleman's  father. 
The  play  is  entitled 

//  Pastor  Fido  ;  or,  The  Faithful 
Shephmrd.4io.lQ62;  12mo.  1633. 


E. 


EAR 

E.  K.     See  K.  F. 

Earle,  William,  Jun.  is  the 
son  of  a  respectable  bookseller  in 
Albemarle  Street,  Piccadilly,  and 
has  written  two  dramatic  pieces, 
Viz. 

1.  Natural  Faults.  C.  Svo.  1799. 

2.  The  Villagers.  Petite  Piece. 
N.P. 


E  C  C 


Eccles,  Ambrose.  This  gen- 
tleman  was  a  native  of  Ireland, 
who,  after  a  regular  course  of  edu- 
cation in  the  college  of  Dublin, 
went  to  the  Continent,  intending 
to  make  what  is  called  the  tour  of 
Europe.  From  France  he  pro- 
ceeded to  Italy ;  but  ill  health 
compelled  hira  to  forego  the  fur- 


215 


E  C  C 

ther  prosecution  of  his  design,  and 
to  return  home.  Idolizing  Shak- 
speare,  he  often  lamented  that  his 
dramas  had  suffered  in  their  struc- 
ture from  the  ignorance  or  care- 
lessness of  the  first  editors.  This 
determined  him  to  attempt  a  trans- 
position of  the  scenes,  in  different 
places,  from  the  order  in  which 
they  have  been  handed  down  by 


ECH 

"  ing  to  the  comforts  of  his  sur* 
iC  rounding  tenantry,  and  exhibit-* 
"  ing  a  model  worthy  the  imita- 
"  tion  of  every  country  gentle- 
"  man." 

ECCLESTONK,      EDWAKD.        Of 

tins  gentleman  we  know  no  more 
than  that  he  was  author  of  one 
dramatic  piece,  entitled 

Noah's  Flood.     Q.     4to.  167Q. 


successive  editions.    "This,"  says    It  was  afterwards  republished  by 
he,  in  a  modest  preface  to  his  edi-     two  different  titles,  viz. 


tion  of  Lear,  "  will  doubtless  be 
"  thought  by  many  a  hardy  inno- 
"  vation  ;  but  if  It  be  considered 
tc  in  what  a  disorderly  and  neg- 
<c  lected  state  this  author's  pieces 
"  are  reported  to  have  been  left 
"  by  him,  and  how  little  certainty 
"  there  is  that  the  scenes  have 
"  hitherto  preserved  their  original 
"  arrangement,  the  presumption 
"  with  which  this  attempt  is 
■  '  chargeable,  will  admit  of  much 
"  extenuation;  and  it  were  at  least 
"  to  be  wished,  that  no  privilege 
'*  of  alteration  more  injurious  to 
"  Shakspeare  had  ever  been  as- 
f  sumed  by  any  of  his  editors." 


The  Cataclysm,   l6S5  ;  and 

The  Deluge,  169I. 

Echakd,  Lawrence.  This 
gentleman  was  the  son  of  Thomas 
Echard,  a  clergyman,  and  was 
born  at  Earsham,  in  the  county  of 
Suffolk,  in  the  year  1671.  He 
received  his  early  education  in  the 
house  of  his  father ;  and  at  the 
age  of  seventeen,  May  2d,  16S7, 
was  admitted  a  sizer  of  Christ's 
College,  in  Cambridge,  where  he 
took  the  degrees  of  B.  A.  in  16QI, 
and  of  M.  A.  in  \6Q5.  He  after- 
wards entered  into  holy  orders,  and 
was  presented  to  the  living  of 
Weston  and  Elkinton,  in  Lincoln- 


What  Mr.  Eccles  attempted,  he  shire,  where  he  spent  above  twenty 
accomplished  with  great  ingenuity  years  of  his  life.  He  was  also 
and  much  taste  in  his  edition*  of  made  prebendary  of  Lincoln  j.  and, 
the  following  plays,  to  each  of  on  the  12th  of  August  1712,  in- 
stalled archdeacon  of  Stow.  By 
King  George  the  First  he  was  pre- 
sented to  the  livings  of  Rendel- 
sham,  Socburn,and  Alford,  in  Suf- 
folk, at  which  places  he  lived 
about  eight  years  in  a  continued 
ill  state  of  health.  Being  advised 
to  go  to  Scarborough  for  the  use 
of  the  waters,  he  proceeded  as  far 
as  Lincoln  ;    but   there  declining 


which  he  assigned  a  separate  vo- 
lume : 

1.  Cymleline.     8vo.  1703. 

2.  Khig  Lear.     8vo.  1/Q3. 

3.  Merchant  of  Venice.  Svo. 
1805. 

Each  volume  contains,  not  only 
notes  and  illustrations  of  various 
commentators,  with  remarks  by 
the  editor,  but  the  several  critical 


and  historical  essays  that  have  ap-  very  fast,  he  was  incapable  of  pro 
peared  at  different  times  respect- 
ing each  piece.  Mr.  Eccles  died 
in  IS09,  at  an  advanced  age,  at 
his  seat  of  Cronroe,  Ireland,  where, 
we  are  told,  he  had  "  long  resided 
*.'.  in  elegant  hospitality,  minister-' 


secuting  his  journey ;  and  on  the 
16th  of  August  1730,  going  to 
take  the  air,  he  died  in  his  chariot, 
and  was  buried  on  the  19th  of  the 
same  month  in  the  chancel  of  St. 
Mary  Magdalen's  church  in  Li»* 
v  4 


216 

E  D  W 

coin,  without  any  grave-stone  or 
other  monument  of  him.  He  ac- 
quired a  great  reputation  by  his 
Writings,  more  especially  his  His- 
tory qj'  England,  which,  though 
violently  attacked  byOldmixon,  is 
still  held  in  considerable  estima- 
tion. In  the  dramatic  way  he  has 
produced  nothing  original,  nor  any 
thing  intended  for  theatrical  re- 
present ation  ;  but  has,  however, 
given  the  world  translations,  from 
Plaulus  and  Terence,  of  the  nine 
following  comedies,  viz, 

] .  Amphytrion. 

1.  Epidicus. 

3.  Rudens.  Svo.  l6g-i;  l2mo. 
I7l6. 

4.  Andria. 

5.  Eunuch. 

6.  Heautontimoroumenos. 

7.  Adelphi. 

8.  Hecyra. 

(J.  Phormio.     8vo.  1694. 
Edmead,  Miss,  was  author  of 
one  piece  acted  at  Norwich,  called 
The  Events  of  a  Day.     Ser.  Dr. 
1/95.     N.  P. 

Edward  the  Sixth.  It  is  as- 
serted by  Holland,  in  his  Hero- 
ologia,  as  quoted  by  Mr.  Walpole, 
p.  23,  Royal  Authors,  vol.  i.  that 
this  monarch  not  only  wrote  notes 
from  the  lectin  es  or  sermons  he 
heard,  but  composed  a  most  ele- 
gant comedy,  the  title  of  which 
was 

The  Whore  of  Babylon. 
Of  the  existence  of  this  piece  Mr; 
"Walpolc  appears  to  entertain  some 
doubt.  Tanner,  however,  from 
Bale,  mentions  it,  and  quotes  a 
single  line  from  it,  by  which  it 
may  seem  to  have  been  written  in 
Latin. 

Edwards,  John,  of  Old  Court, 
in  the  county  of  Wicklow,  has 
published  one  play,  viz. 

Alradates  and  Fan  lima.  Trag. 
8yo.  1808. 


E  D  W 

Edwards,  Miss.  Of  this  lady 
we  know  only  that  she  wrote 

Otho  and  Rut  ha.  Dram.  Tale. 
12mo.  1781,. 

Edwards,  P.H.  Thisnamewe 
find  prefixed  to  the  following  piece : 

The  Imperial  Conspirator  Over- 
thrown. A  Serio-Burlesque  Per- 
formance.    8vo.  180S. 

Edwards,  Fuchakd.  This  very 
early  writer  was  born  in  Somerset- 
shire in  1523,  and  was  admitted  a 
scholar  of  Corpus  Christi  College, 
in   Oxford,  under  the  tuition   of 
George  Etherege,  May  U,   1540. 
In  the  beginning  of  1547,  being 
only  twenty-four  years  of  age,  he 
was  elected  a  student  of  the  upper 
table  of  Christchurch,  at  its  found- 
ation by   King  Henry  VIII.  and 
the  same  year  took  his  degree  as 
master  of  arts.     In  the  beginning 
of  Queen  Elizabeth,  he  was  made 
one  of  the  gentlemen  of  her  cha- 
pel, and  teacher  of  music  to  the 
children  of  the  choir.     Chetwood 
asserts,  but  upon  what  foundation 
we  know  not,  that  he  had  a  license 
granted  him  by  that  monarch  to 
superintend   the   children   of   the 
chapel  as  Her  Majesty's  company 
of  comedians  ;  or,  in  other  terms, 
had  a  patent  as  manager  of  a  thea- 
tre royal  in  that  reign.    Be  that  as 
it  may,  it  is  certain  that  he  was 
esteemed  both  an  excellent  poet 
and  musician;  as  many  of  his  com- 
positions in  music  (for  he  was  not 
only  skilled  in  the  executive,  but 
also  in  the  theoretical  part  of  that 
science),  and  his  works  in  poetry, 
show  ;    for  which  he  was   highly 
valued  by  those  that  knew  him, 
especially  bis  associates  in  Lincoln's 
Inn,  o(  which  society  he  was  not 
only  a  member,  but  in  some  re- 
spects an  ornament". 

He  is  almost  one  of  our  first 
dramatic  writers,  having  left  be- 
hind him  three  pieces  which  were 


217 


EDW 


E  L  1 


represented  on  the  stage,  the  latest     the  above,  death  taking  him  away, 


of  which  as  early  as  1566.     Their 
titles  are, 

1.  Damon  and  Pit  bias.  C.  4to. 
N.  D. ;  4to.  1582.  D.  C. 

2.  Palcemon  and  Arcyte.     C.  in 
two  Parts.   N.  P.  we  believe. 


much  lamented  by  all  the  inge- 
nious men  of  his  time,  that  very 
year  15CS6.  He  wrote  several 
poems,  which  were  published  after 
his  death,  together  with  those  of 
some  other  authors,  in  a  collection 


The  first  of  these  was  acted  at  entitled  A  Paradise  of  dainty  .De- 
court  and  in  the  university,  and  is  vises,  1578.  And  when  he  was  in 
reprinted  in  the  first  volume  of  the  extremity  of  his  last  sickness, 
Dodsley's  Collection  of  Old  Plays,  he  wrote  a  poem  on  that  occasion. 
Of  the  latter,  Wood  has  furnished  which  was  esteemed  a  good  piece, 
us  with  the  following  anecdote,  viz.  entitled  Edwards's   Soulknil;    or. 


that  being  acted  in  Christchurch 
Hall,  1566,  before  Queen  .Eliza- 
beth, Her  Majesty  was  so  much 
delighted  with  it,  that,  sending  for 


The  Soules  Knell. 

Eedes,  Richard,  is  supposed 
to  have  been  born  in  Bedfoidshire. 
After  an  education  at  Westminster 


the  author  to  her,  she  was  pleased     school,  he  went  to  the  university 

to  give   him  many  thanks,  with 

promise  of  reward  for  his  pains. 

He  also  tells  us,  that  in  the  said 

play  was  icted  a  cry  of  hounds  in 

the  quadrangle,  upon  the  train  of 

a  fox  in  the  hunting  of  Theseus ; 


of  Oxford,  where  he  was  elected 
student  of  Christchurch  in  1571. 
He  proceeded  in  arts  in  1.5/8,  and 
about  the  same  time  entered  into 
orders,  and  became  a  celebrated 
preacher.     In    1584,  he    was    in- 


with   which  the   young   scholars,  stalled  a  prebendary  in  the  catbe- 

who  stood  in  the  remoter  parts  of  dral  of  Salisbury,  and  afterwards 

the  stage  and  in  the  windows,  were  appointed  chaplain  to  Queen  Eli- 

so  much  taken  and  surprised,  sup-  zabeth.     He  received  the  canonry 

posing  it  had  been  reai,  that  they  of  Christchurch  iq  1586.  Jn  1589, 

cried  ox\X.,Xhere,there — he's  caught,  he  was  created  doctor  of  divinity; 

he's  caught.    All  which  the  Queen  and,  in  15g(j,  was  made  dean   of 

merrily  beholding,  said,  Oh!  ex-  Worcester;  in  which  last  station 

cellent!  these  boys  in  very  truth  are  he  lemained  until  his  death,  which 

ready  to  leap  out  of  the  windows  to  happened   on    the    l()th    of    No- 


f allow  the  hounds.  He  adds,  more- 
over, that  at  a  sort  of  private  re- 
hearsal of  this  piece  before  the 
Queen's  arrival  at  Oxford,  in  the 
presence  of  certain  courtiers,  it  was 
so  well  liked  by  them,  that  they 
said  it  far  surpassed  Damon  and 
Pithias,  than  which  they  thought 
nothing  could  be  better;  nay,  some 
even  said,  that  if  the  author  pro- 
ceeded to  write  any  more  plays 
before  his  death,  he  would  certain- 
ly run  mad.  This,  however,  was 
never  put  to  the  test ;  for  though 
he   besran    some    other    dramatic 


vember  1604. 

la  Meres's  Wit's  Treasury,  15p8, 
p.  283,  he  is  enumerated  among 
the  writers  of  tragedy  at  that  pe- 
riod ;  and  Wood  says,  that  "  his 
"  younger  y.  rs  he  spent  in  po- 
"  etical  fancies,  and  composing 
"  plays,  mostly  tragedies ;  but  at 
"  riper  he  became  a  pious  and 
"  grave  divine,  an  ornament  to 
f  his  profession,  and  a  grace  to 
"  the  pulpit.'1 

None  of  Dr.  Eedes's  plays  are 
now  existing. 

Elizabeth,  Queen.    Our  rea- 


pieces,  he  never  finished  any  but    ders  may  perhaps  be  surprised  to. 


21S 


ELI. 
find  the  name  of   this  illustrious 
princess  among  the  catalogue  of 
our  dramatic  writers,  as  it  is  well 
known  that  there  is  no  piece  i 
tant  as  hers :  yet  it  would  be  an 


ELL 

The  Doctor  designed  his  ne- 
Dhew  for  the  church;  but  our 
hero  having  gained  considerable 
applause  by  the  delivery,  in  l/QO, 
of  an  English  thesis,  the  subject 


inexcusable  omission,  in  a  work  of    of  which  was,  Nemo  confidat  ni- 


this  nature,  were  we  to  pass  over 
unnoticed  the  irrfoEmation  which 
Sir  Robert  Naunton  and  others 
have  given  us,  that  this  princess, 
for  her  own  private  amusement, 


mium  secundis,  he  imbibed  an  im- 
mediate inclination  for  the  stage  -y 
and  shortly  after  performed  the 
part  of  Pierre,  at  the  Lyceum,  in 
the  Strand,  then  occasionally  open- 


translated  one  of  the  tragedies  of    ed   as  a  private  theatre.     Having 


Euripides  from  the  Greek ;  though 
which  particular  play  it  was  they 
bave  none  of  them  specified.  To 
attempt  any  account  of  the  events 
of  the  life  and  reign  of  this  il- 
lustrious sovereign,  besides  that  it 


after  this  had  some  trifling  dis- 
agreement with  Dr.  Roberts,  he 
quitted  St.  Paul's  school,  without 
the  consent  of  his  friends,  at  a 
time  when  he  was  fourth  boy  of 
that  seminary,  and  resolved  to  tiy 


would  far  o'erleap  the  bounds  of    his  fortune  on  the  stage. 


our  work,  would  be  an  act  of  ab- 
solute superfluity,  as  it  has  been 
so  well  and  amply  executed  by 
many  historians  of  great  abilities. 
We  shall  only  observe,  that  the 
circumstance  on  which  we  have 
here  had  occasion  to  mention  her, 
is  one  testimonial  among  many  of 
I  eminence  in  learning  which 
she  maintained  ;  and  that  she  not 


He  first  directed  his  views  to 
Rath  ;  where,  to  procure  the  tem- 
porary means  of  subsistence,  he 
engaged  himself  as  clerk  in  a  lot- 
tery-office, and  remained  in  that 
capacity -a  few  weeks,  till  he  found 
an  opportunity  of  making  his  the- 
atrical essay,  which  was  in  the 
•humble  character  of  Tressel,  in 
Richard  the  Third;  and  in  which 


only  was  perfect  mistress  of  most    he  gave  great  satisfaction.    He  was 
of  the  living  languages,  but  was    unfortunate,  however,  in  his  de- 


also  equally  well  acquainted  with 
the  dead  ones,  and  conversant  with 
the  labours  of  the  ingenious  in 
ages  far  remote. 

Ellistont,  Robert  William, 
was  born  in  1 77^>  in  Orange  Street, 
Bloomsbury.  His  father  was  a 
watchmaker,  and  the  youngest  son 
of  an  eminent  farmer  at  Gidgrave, 
near  Orford,  in  Suffolk.  At  nine 
years  of  age,  young  Elliston  was 
placed  at  St.  Paul's  school,  where 
he  remained  till  he  was  sixteen ; 
passing  his  time,  during  the  vaca- 
tions, at  Cambridge,  with  his  uncle 
the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Elliston,  master 
of  Sidney  College,  who  superin- 
tended ,his  education,  the  expense 
of  which  he  took  upon  himself. 


sire  ot  procuring  an  engagement, 
the  company  being  full.  He  was 
soon  after  this  recommended  to, 
and  engaged  by,  Mr.  Tate  Wil- 
kinson at  York  ;  but  he  experi- 
enced so  much  disappointment 
and  vexation  there,  the  principal 
characters  being  all  in  the  pos- 
session of  other  performers,  that 
he  soon  became  weary  of  his  con- 
dition, and  wrote  to  his  uncle  a 
supplicating  letter  for  pardon  and 
indulgence.  -  His  application  hav- 
ing had  the  desired  effect,  he  re- 
turned to  London,  and>  through 
the  medium  of  Dr.  Farmer,  was 
introduced  to  Mr.  Kemble,  who 
recommended  him  to  study  Ro- 
meo against  the  opening  of  New 


210 


ELL 

Drury.     But  his  patience  having 
been  exhausted  before  the  house 
could  open,  and  his  circumstances 
not  being   in   the    most    affluent 
state,  be  applied  to  Mr.  Dimond, 
the  Bath  manager,  who  was  then 
performing  at  the  Richmond  The- 
atre, by  whom  he  was  immediately 
engaged.     On  his  return  to  Bath, 
in  1793>  he  made  his  appearance 
in  the  character  of  Romeo,    and* 
found   that   his    Tressel  had   not 
been  forgotten.    The  indisposition 
of  several  performers  now  afforded 
him  the  long-wished-for  opportu- 
nity of  calling  into  action  a  versa- 
tility of  powers  which  was  before 
unknown,  even  to  himself.     He 
appeared     in     tragedy,     comedy, 
opera,  and  pantomime,  with  such 
success,  that  he  declined  the  pro- 
mised engagement  at  New  Drury, 
and  retained  his  situation  at  Bath. 
In   1/96,  Mr.  Elliston  married 
a  most  respectable  public  character 
at  Bath,  a  Miss  Randall,  as  cele- 
brated for  her  beauty  as  for  her 
skill    in    teaching   dancing ;    and 
about  "  three  weeks   after   mar- 
"  riage,"   that  is   to  S3y,  on   the 
24th  of  June,  he  made  his  first 
appearance     at     the    Haymarket 
Theatre,  in  the  characters  of  Oc- 
tavian  (in  The  Mountaineers)  and 
Vapour  (in  My  Grandmother) .  He 
then  played  Sheva,    Sir   Edward 
Mortimer,  &c.  &c.  and  his  success 
was  equal  to  his  wishes. 

The  growing  reputation  of  Mr. 
Elliston  at  length  induced  Mr. 
Harris  to  engage  him  to  play,  at 
stated  intervals,  at  Covent  Garden 
Theatre ;  an  indulgence  kindly 
granted  by  Messrs.  Palmer  and 
Dimond,  with  whom  he  had  now 
renewed  his  articles  for  three 
years.  The  novelty  of  this  un- 
dertaking occasioned  considerable 
jealousy  in  the  green-room,  and 
gained  our  hero  the  facetious  ap» 


EST 

pellation  of  "  The  Telegraph,  or 
"  Fortnight  Actor."     But  at  Co- 
vent  Garden  he  did  not  experience 
all    that   success   and    indulgence 
which   he   had   met   with    at  the 
Haymarket :    he  therefore  return- 
ed to  his  situation  at  Bath,  and 
continued  the  hero  of  that  theatre, 
till  the  end  of  the  winter-season 
of  1S03  ;   when  he  made  his  final 
bow  to  his  friends  at  Bath,  and 
prepared  for  a  summer  campaign* 
On  the  J 6th  of  May  1S03,  Mr. 
Colman  opened   the    Haymarket 
Theatre  with  an  independent  com- 
pany, selected  from  different  pro- 
vincial establishments  j    and  Mr. 
Elliston  took  the  lead,  not  only  as 
principal  performer,  but  as  acting 
manager  also,  in  the  room  of  Mr. 
Fawcett.     In  1804,  he  accepted  a 
situation  at  Drury  Lane,  where  he 
was  engaged  as  a  principal  per- 
former, and  to  assume  both  sock 
and  buskin ;  and    there   he  con- 
tinued till  the  destruction  of  the 
theatre  by  fire,  in  February  1 SO9. 
Since  that  time  Mr.  Elliston  has 
taken  "  The  Royal  Circus,"  which 
he  has  new-named  "  The  Surrey 
"  Theatre,"    and  where,    by  the 
liberality  of  his  management,  h» 
has  hitherto,  we  understand,  been 
very  successful. 

His  title  to  notice  in  this  work 
rests  on  the  following  piece  : 

The  Venetian  Outlaw.  Dr.  8vo. 
1805. 

Erskine,  the  Hon.  Andrew. 
We  have  seen  this  name  written 
in  the  title-page  of 

She's  not  Him,  and  He's  not 
Her.  F.  8vo.   1764. 

Estcourt,  Richard.  This 
gentleman  was  an  actor  as  well  as 
a  writer.  He  was  born  atTewks- 
bury,  in  Gloucestershire,  accord- 
ing to  Chetwood,  in  1668,  and 
received  his  education  at  the  Latin 
school  of  that  town;  but  having  an 


220 


EST 

early  inclination  for  the  stage,  lie 
stole  away  from  his  father's  house 
at  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  joined 
a  travelling   company    of  come- 


E  S  T 

to  London,  and  bound  him  ap- 
prentice to  an  apothecary  in  Hatton 
Garden.  From  this  confinement 
Mr. Chetwood, who  probably  might 


dians  then  at  Worcester ;  where,  have  known  him,  and  perhaps  had 

for  fear  of  being  known,  he  made  these   particulars    from    his    own 

his    first  appearance    in     female  mouth,    tells   usy    that  he  broke 

attire,  in  the  part  of  Roxana,  in  away,  and  passed  two  years  in  Eng- 

Alexander  the  Great.     But  his  fa-  land  in  an  itinerant  life  ;  though 

ther,  having  notice  of  it,  sent  to  Jacob,  and  Whincop  after   him, 

secure  the  fugitive,  who  made  his  say  that  he  setup  in  business,  but 

escape  in  a  suit  of  woman's  clothes  not  finding  it  succeed  to  his  likin^, 


that  he  borrowed  of  one  of  the 
itinerant  ladies,  and  trudged  it  to 
Chipping  Norton,  in  Oxfordshire, 
twenty- five  miles,  in  one  day. 
When  he  came  to  the  inn,  beds 
were  scarce,  and  he  was  invited 
to  partake  of  the  daughter's,  be- 
hind the  bar  :  the  young  woman, 
going  to  bed,  found  the  wearied 
traveller  in  a  profound  sleep ;  but, 
observing  a  shirt  instead  of  a 
shift,  she  began  to  suspect  her  de- 
signed bedfellow ;  and,  stooping 
to  look  on  the  dress  that  lay  on 
the  ground,  she  saw  a  pair  of 
man's  shoes  under  the  bed,  which 
convinced  her  that  she  might  have 
been  in  an  odd  situation,  if  she  had 
gone  to  bed  in  the  dark.  Upon 
the  discovery,  she  instantly  called 
in  the  people  of  the  house,  and 
waked  our  drowsy  traveller.  The 
landlord  had  designed  to  carry  him 
decently  to  the  horse-pond,  till 
Dick  made  a  true  confession  of  the 
whole  affair.  By  accident,  a  per- 
son of  the  town  of  Tewksbury  put 
up  at  the  said  inn  that  night,  who 
knew  our  young  disguised  wan- 
derer :  and  that  knowledge  signed 
his  pardon.  In  two  days  after- 
wards his  clothes  were  brought 
him  from  Worcester,  accompanied 
with  a  messenger  from  his  father, 
who  led  him  home  again  to 
Tewksbury.     His  father,  in  order 


quitted  it  for  the  stage.  Be  this 
however  as  it  may,  it  is  certain 
that  he  went  over  to  Ireland, 
where  he  met  with  good  success  on 
the  stage ;  from  whence  he  came 
back  to  London,  and  was  received 
in  Drury  Lane  Theatre.  His  first 
appearance  there  was  in  the  part 
ot  Dominic,  the  Spanish  Fryar,  in 
which,  although  in  himself  but  a 
very  middling  actor,  he  established 
his  character  by  a  close  imitation 
of  Leigh,  who  had  been  very  cele- 
brated in  it.  And,  indeed,  in  this 
and  all  his  other  parts,  he  was 
mostly  indebted  for  his  applause  to 
his  powers  of  mimicry,  in  which 
he  was  inimitable ;  and  which  not 
only  at  times  afforded  him  oppor- 
tunities of  appearing  a  much  better 
actor  than  he  really  was,  by  en- 
abling him  to  copy  very  exactly 
several  performers  of  capital  me- 
rit, whose  manner  he  remembered 
and  assumed  ;  but  also,  by  recom- 
mending him  to  a  very  numerous 
acquaintance  in  private  life,  se- 
cured him  an  indulgence  for  faults 
in  his  public  profession,  that  he 
might  otherwise,  perhaps,  never 
have  been  pardoned  ;  among 
which  he  was  remarkable  for  the 
gratification  of  that  "  pitiful  avrti~ 
"  tion,"  as  Shakspeare  justly  stvles 
it,  and  for  which  he  condemns  the 
low  comedians  of  his  own   time, 


to  prevent  such  excursions  for  the    of  imagining  he  could  help  his  au- 
fcilure.,  soon  after  carried  him  up    thor,  and  for  that  reason  frequent- 


221 


EST 


Jy  throwing  in  additions  of  his 
own,  which  the  author  not  only 
had  never  intended,  but  perhaps 
would  have  considered  as  most  op- 
posite  to  his  main  intention. 

Estcourt,  however,  as  a  compa- 
nion, was  perfectly  entertaining  and 
agreeable ;  and  Sir  Richard  Steele, 
in  The  Spectator,  records  him  to 
have  been  not  only  a  sprightly  wit, 
but  a  person  of  easy  and  natural  po- 
liteness. In  a  word,  his  company 
was  extremely  courted  by  every 
one,  and  his  mimicry  so  much 
admired,  that  persons  of  the  first 
quality  frequently  invited  him  to 
their  entertainments,  in  order  to 
divert  their  friends  with  his  drol- 
lery; on  which  occasions  he  con- 
stantly received  very  handsome 
presents  for  his  company.  Among 
others,  he  was  a  great  favourite 
with  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  ; 
and  at  the  time  that  the  famous 
Beef  SteakClub  was  erected,  which 
consisted  of  -the  chief  wits  and 
.greatest  men  in  the  kingdom,  Mr. 
Estcourt  had  the  office  assigned  him 
of  their  providore ;  and  as  a  mark 
of  distinction  of  that  honour,  he 
used,  by  way  of  a  badge,  to  wear 
a  small  gridiron  of  gold,  hung 
about  his  neck  with  a  green  silk 
riband.  He  quitted  the  stage 
some  years  before  his  death,  which 
happened  in  1/13 ;  and  he  was 
interred  in  the  churchyard  of  St. 
Paul's,  Covent  Garden,  where  his 
brother  comedian,  Joe  Haines,  had 
been  buried  a  few  years  before. 
He  left  behind  him  two  dramatic 
pieces,  viz. 

1.  Fair  Example.  C.  4 to.  1/Ofj. 

2.  Prunella.  Interl.  4to.  N.  D. 
The  latter  of  these  was  only  a  ridi- 
cule on  the  absurdity  of  the  Italian 
operas  at  that  time  ;  in  which  not 
only  the  unnatural  circumstance 
was  indulged  of  music  and  har- 
mony attending  on  all,  even  the 


E  T  H 

most  agitating  passions  ;  but  ajso 
the  very  words  themselves,  which 
were  to  accompany  that  music, 
were  written  in  different  languages, 
according  as  the  performers  who 
were  to  sing  them  happened  to  be 
Italians  or  English. 

Etherege,  Sir  George.  This 
gentleman,  so  remarkable  for  his 
wit  and  gallantry,  flourished  in 
the  reigns  of  Charles  II.  and 
James  II.  He  was  descended  from 
a  very  good  and  ancient  family  in 
Oxfordshire,  and  was  born  about 
the  year  1636.  It  is  supposed  that 
he  received  the  early  parts  of  his 
education  at  the  university  of  Cam- 
bridge, though  it  does  not  appear 
that  he  made  any  long  reaiclence 
there;  an  inclination  for  seeing  the 
world  having  led  him  to  travel 
into  France,  when  he  was  very 
young.  On  his  return,  he  for 
some  time  studied  the  municipal 
laws  of  this  kingdom,  at  one  of  the 
inns  of  court;  but  finding  that 
kind  of  study  too  heavy  for  his 
volatile  and  airy  disposition,  and 
consequently  making  but  little  pro- 
gress in  it,  he  soc>n  quitted  it  for 
pleasure  and  the  pursuit  of  gayer 
accomplishments. 

In  1664,  he  brought  on  the  stage 
his  comedy  of  The  Comical  Re- 
venge; or,  Love  in  a  Tub;  which 
met  with  good  success,  and  intro- 
duced him  to  the  intimacy  of  the 
Earl  of  Dorset;  with  whom,  as  well 
as  other  leading  wits,  such  as  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  Lord  Ro- 
chester, Sir  Charles  Sedley,  &c. 
his  easy  unreserved  conversation, 
and  happy  address,  rendered  him  a 
very  great  favourite.  The  success 
of  this  inspired  him  to  the  writing 
of  a  still  better  comedy,  viz.  She 
wou'd  if  She  cou'd.  This  piece 
raised  great  expectations  of  fre- 
quent additions  to  the  amusements 
of  the  theatre  from  so  able  a  pen; 


222 


BTH 
but  Mr.  Etherege  was  too  much 
addicted  to  pleasure,  and  had  too 
few  incitements  from  necessity, 
to  give  any  constant  applica- 
tion to  the  belles  lettres,  which  he 
made  only  the  amusement  of  a 
few  leisure  moments.  So  that  he 
produced  but  one  play  more,  and 
that  not  till  eight  years  after  the 
preceding  one.  This  was  The  Man 
of  Mode,  which  is  perhaps  the  most 
elegant  comedy,  and  contains  more 
of  the  real  manners  of  high  life 
than  any  one  the  English  stage  was 
ever  adorned  with.  This  piece 
he  has  dedicated  to  the  beautiful 
Dutchess  of  York,  in  whose  service 
he  then  was,  and  who  had  so  high 
a  regard  for  him,  that  when,  on 
the  accession  of  King  James  II. 
she  came  to  be  Queen,  she  pro- 
cured his  being  sent  ambassador, 
first  to  Hamburgh,  and  afterwards 
tp  Radsbon,  where  he  continued 
till  after  His  Majesty  quitted  this 
kingdom.  Our  author  was  ad- 
dicted to  certain  gay  extravagan- 
cies, such  as  gaming,  and  a  most 
unbounded  indulgence  in  wine  and 
women ;  and  as  by  the  latter  of 
these  intemperances  he  had  great- 
ly damaged  his  countenance  (for 
otherwise  he  was  a  handsome  man, 
being  fair,  slender,  and  genteel), 
$o  by  the  former  he  had  greatly 
impaired  his  fortune  j  to  retrieve 
which,  he  paid  his  addresses  to  a 
rich  widow ;  but  she,  beiug  an 
ambitious  woman,  had  determined 
fiot  to  condescend  to  a  marriage 
with  any  man  who  could  not  be- 
stow a  title  on  her,  on  which  ac- 
count he  was  obliged  to  purchase 
a  knighthood.  It  does  not  ap- 
pear whether  he  had  any  issue  by 
this  lady  ;  but  by  Mrs.  Barry,  the 
actress,  with  whom  he  lived  for 
some  time,  he  had  one  daughter, 
on  whom  he  settlecT  a  fortune  of 


E  T  H 


five  or  six  thousand  pounds;  sh» 
however  died  very  young. 

None  of  the  writers  have  exact- 
ly fixed  the  period  of  Sir  George's 
death,  though  all  seem  to  place 
it  not  long  after  the  Revolution. 
Some  say,  that  on  that  great  event, 
he  followed  his  master  King  James 
into  France,  and  died  there.  But 
the  authors  of  the  Biographia  Bri- 
tannica  mention  a  report  that  he 
came  to  an  untimely  death,  by 
an  unlucky  accident  at  Ratisbon  ; 
for  that,  after  having  treated  some 
company  with  a  liberal  entertain- 
ment at  his  house  there,  where  he 
had  taken  his  ghss  too  freely,  and 
being,  through  his  great  complai- 
sance, too  forward  in  waiting  on 
his  guests  at  their  departure,  flush- 
ed as  he  was,  he  tumbled  down 
stairs,  and  broke  his  neck ;  and 
so  fell  a  martyr  to  jollity  and 
civility. 

Sir  George  Etherege  seems  to 
have  been  perfectly  formed  for  the 
court  and  age  he  lived  in.  By 
the  letters  which  passed  between 
him  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
the  Earl  of  Rochester,  and  Sir 
Charles  Sediey,  he  appears  to  have 
been  thoroughly  a  libertine  in  spe- 
culation as  well  as  practice ;  yet 
possessed  all  that  elegance  of  sen- 
timent, and  easy  affability  of  ad- 
dress, which  are  ever  the  charac- 
teristics of  true  gallantry,  but  of 
which  the  libertines  of  the  present 
age  seem  to  have  very  little  idea, 
As  a  writer,  he  certainly  was  born 
a  poet,  and  appears  to  have  been 
possessed  of  a  genius  whose  viva* 
city  needed  no  cultivation ;  for 
we  have  no  proofs  of  his  having 
been  a  scholar.  His  works  have 
not,  however,  escaped  censure,  on 
account  of  that  licentiousness  which 
in  the  general  runs  through  them, 
which  renders  them  dangerous  to. 


223 


E  Y  R 


E  Y  R 


young  unguarded  minds  j  and  the 
more  so  for  the  lively  and  genuine 
wit  with  which  it  is  gilded  over, 
and  which  has  therefore  justly  ba- 
nished them  from  the  purity  of  the 
present  stage. 

Sir  George  left  behind  him  only 
the  three  dramatic  pieces  we  have 
before  mentioned,  viz. 

1.  She  wou'd  if  She  cou'd.  C. 
4to.  1668. 

2.  Comical  Revenge.  C.  4to. 
I669. 

3.  Man  of  Mode.  C.4to.  1676. 
Ewing,    CaptXin   Peter,   of 

the  marines,  is  "the  author  of  one 
dramatic  piece,  called 

The  Soldier's  Opera.  Svo.  N.D. 
[1792.] 

Eyre,  Edmund  John,  a  come- 
dian belonging  to  the  Drury  Lane 
company,  is  the  sou  of  the  Rev.  A. 
Eyre  (late  rector  of  Leverington, 
in  the  Isle  of  Ely,  and  Out  well, 
Norfolk,  and  chaplain  to  Dr.  Law, 
late  Bishop  of  Carlisle),  by  a  sister 
of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Underwood,  rec- 
tor of  East  Barnet.  Mr.  Eyre 
received  a  classical  education,  and 
was  entered  of  Pembroke  Hall, 
Cambridge.  Becoming  stage- 
struck,  however,  he  quitted  his 
Studies,    and  joined  a   theatrical 


company  near  Windsor;  in  which, 
as  he  performed  not  for  emolu- 
ment, but  practice,  he  was  in- 
dulged with  all  the  characters  that 
he  desired.  He  afterwards  had 
engagements  at  Worcester  and 
Bath;  and,  on  the  9th  of  October 
1S06,  made  his  first  appearance 
at  Drury  Lane,  in  the  character  of 
Jaques,  in  As  You  like  It ;  and  in 
that  company  he  has  continued 
ever  since,  a  respectable  rather 
than  a  great  actor. 

His  dramatic  productions  are  as 
follow : 

1.  The  Dreamer  Awake.  F.  Svo. 

1/91. 

2.  Maid  of  Normandy.  T.  Svo. 

1/93. 
o.  Consequences.  C.  Svo.  1/94. 

4.  The  Fatal   Sisters.      D.  R> 
Svo.   1797. 

5.  The  Discarded  Secretary.  H. 
P.  Svo.  1799. 

6.  The  Tears  of  Britain.  Dram. 
Sketch.  Svo. 

7.  Vintagers.  M.  R.  Svo.  ]  809. 
The   following   also   has   been 

ascribed  to  this  gentleman  : 

S.  TheCqffres.  M.E.1S02.N.P. 
Mr.  Eyre's  father  died  at  Ches- 

hunt,  Herts,  March  13*  1796,  ia 

his  56th  year. 


V 


FAB 

-Fabian,  R.  All  we  find  men- 
tioned of  this  author  is,  that  he 
was-some  time  one  of  the  footmen 
to  King  George  the  Second,  when 
Prince  of  Wales;  and  that  he  wrote 
one  dramatic  piece,  which  was 
acted  without  success,  called, 
Trick  for  Trick,  Com.  Svo.  1/35. 


FAN 

Falkland.     See  Carey. 

Fane,  Sir  Francis,  junior, 
Knight  of  the  Bath.  This  honour- 
able author  lived  in  the  reign  of 
King  Charles  II.  He  was  grand- 
son to  the  Earl  of  Westmorland 
(his  father  being  one  of  that  no- 
bleman's younger  sons),  and  re- 


224 


FAN 

sided  for  the  most  part  at  Fulbeck, 
in  Lincolnshire.  He  was  appoint- 
ed, by  the  Duke  of  Newcastle, 
governor,  first  of  Doncastef,  and 
afterwards  of  Lincoln.  Langbaine 
gives  the  highest  commendations 
of  his  wit  and  abilities,  ana  indeed 
other  of  his  contemporaries  have 
paid  him  high  compliments.  Be- 
sides some  poems,  he  has  Jeft  the 
following  dramatic  pieces,  viz. 

1.  JLcue  in  the  Dark.     C.    4to. 
1675. 

2.  Mosque  for  Lord  Rochester  s 
Valentinian.   Svo.   10S5. 

3.  Sacrifice.     T.  4fo.   1686. 
F.oshaw,  Sir  Richard.  This 

gentleman  was  the  tenth  and 
youngest  son  of  Sir  Henry  Fan- 
shaw,  of  Ware  Park,  in  Hertford- 
shire (who  had  been  created  a 
baronet  by  King  Charles  I.  at  the 
siege  of  Oxford),  and  brother  to 
the  Right  Honourable  Thomas 
Lord  Viscount  Fanshaw.  He 
was  born  in  1607,  received  the 
first  rudiments  of  learning  from 
that  famous  grammarian  and  cri- 
tic Thomas  Farnaby,  and  com- 
pleted his  studies  at  the  university 
of  Cambridge,  from  whence  he 
set  out  on  his  travels  for  the  at- 
tainment of  farther  accomplish- 
ments. At  his  return,  his  pror 
mising  abilities  recommended  him 
to  the  favour  of  King  Charles  I. 
who,  in  the  year  1035,  appointed 
him  resident  at  the  court  of  Spain, 
for  the  adjusting  of  some  points  in 
dispute  between  the  two  powers. 

On  the  breaking  out  of  the  re- 
bellion he  returned  to  England, 
and,  attaching  himself  with  great 
firmness  to  the  royal  cause,  became 
intrusted  in  many  very  important 
affairs,  particularly  the  trust  of 
secretary  to  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
whom  he  attended  in  many  of  his 
journies. 

In  16MS,  he  was  made  treasurer 


FAN 

of  the  navy,  under  Prince  Rupert, 
which  post  he  kept  till  Sept,  2, 
1050  ;  when  he  was  created  a  ba- 
ronet, and  sent  envoy  extraor- 
dinary to  Spain.  From  thence  be- 
ing lecalleu  to  Scotland,  where 
the  King  was,  he  served  as  secre- 
tary of  state  till  the  fatal  battle  of 
Worcester,  in  which  he  was  taken 
prisoner,  and  committed  for  a  long 
time  co  close  confinement  in  Lon- 
don ;  till  at  length,  on  account  of 
his  health,  he  was  admitted  to  bail. 

In  February  1659,  he  repaired 
to  the  King  at  Breda;  and  return- 
ing to  England  at  the  Restoration, 
it  was  expected  he  would  have 
been  appointed  secretary  of  state. 
He  was,  however,  only  made  mas- 
ter of  requests,  an  honourable  and 
lucrative  employment,  and  secre- 
tary for  the  Latin  tongue. 

In  1661,  at  which  time  he  was 
one  of  the  burgesses  in  Parliament 
for  the  university  of  Cambridge, 
he  was  sworn  a  privy  counsellor 
for  Ireland,  and  sent  first  as  en- 
voy extraordinary,  but  afterwards 
endowed  with  a  plenipotentiary 
commission  to  the  court  of  Portu- 
gal, where  he  negotiated  a  mar- 
riage between  his  master,  King 
Charles  II.  and  the  Infanta  Don- 
na Catharina,  daughter  to  King 
John  VI.  Being  recalled  in  1663, 
he  was  sworn  of  the  privy  council, 
and,  in  February  1664,  sent  am- 
bassador to  the  court  of  Madrid,  to 
negotiate  a  treaty  of  commerce. 
During  his  residence  there,  King 
Philip  died ;  and  Sir  Richard,  avail- 
ing himself  of  the  minority  of  his 
son  and  successor,  put  the  finish- 
ing hand  to  a  peace  with  Spain, 
a  treaty  for  which  was  signed  at 
Madrid,  Dec.  6,  1665.  Having 
thus  fully  executed  his  commis- 
sions, he  was  preparing  for  his 
return  to  England;  when,  on  the 
14th  of  June  1666,  he  was  seized, 


225 


FAN 


FAR 


at  Madrid,  with  a  violent  fever, 
which,  on  the  2uth  of  the  same 
month,  the  very  day  he  had  ap- 
pointed for  setting  out  on  his  jour- 
ney, put  an  end  to  his  valuable 
life,  in  the  59th  year  of  his  age. 
His  body,  being  embalmed,  was 
conveyed  by  land  to  Calais,  and 
so  to  London  ;  from  whence,  being 
carried  to  Alihallows  church,  in 
Hertford,  his  lady  and  all  his  sur- 
viving children  attending,  it  was 
deposited  in  the  vault  of  his  father- 
in-law,  Sir  John  Harrison,  by 
whose  eldest  daughter  Sir  Richard 
had  six.  sons  and  eight  daughters  ; 
of  whom,  however,  he  left  only 
one  son  and  four  daughters  behind 
him. 

Here  it  remained  till  the  18th 
of  May  1671,  on  which  day  it 
was  removed  into  (he  parish-church 
of  Ware,  in  the  said  county,  and 
there  laid  in  a  new  vault,  made  or 
purchased  on  purpose  for  him  and 
his  family,  over  which  was  erected 
an  elegant  monument  for  him  and 
his  lady  ;  being  near  the  old  vault, 
where  all  his  ancestors  of  Ware 
Park  lay  interred. 

His  general  character  is  very 
concisely  conveyed  by  the  author 
of  the  short  account  of  his  life, 
prefixed  to  his  Letters*  who  says 
of  him,  "That  he  was  remark- 
"  able  for  his  meekness,  sincerity, 
"  humanity,  and  piety,  and  was 
"  also  an  able  statesman  and  a 
"  great  scholar;  being  in  particular 
"  a  complete  master  of  several  mo- 
"  dern  languages,  especially  the 
"  Spanish,  which  he  spoke  and 
"  wrote  with  as  much  advantage 
"  as  if  he  had  been  a  native." 

As  to  his  writings,  there  are 
few,  excepting  his  Letters  during 
his  embassies  (and  which  were  not 
published  till  1/02,  in  Svo.),  that 
are  original;  the  most  being 
translations,    and   written,    as    it 

vol.  1. 


should  seem,  by  way  of  amusement 
and  re]- nation  during  his  confine- 
ment One  of  these  translations 
is  from  the  Italian  of  the  celebrat- 
ed Guarini,  the  other  from  the 
Spanish  of  Antonio  de  Mendeza. 
Their  names  are  as  follow  : 

1.  II  Pastor  Fido.  Past.  4to. 
1(548. 

2.  Querer  por  solo  querer.  Dr. 
Rom.  of  three  acts.  4to.   1 67 1 . 

N.  B.  To  this  piece  is  added 
another,  a  translation  from  the 
same  Spanish  author,  entitled, 

3.  Fiestasde ArunjuezAto.  \QjO. 
Besides  these,  he  translated  into 

Latin  verse  a  pastoral,  written  by 
Fletcher,  entitled,  The  Faithful 
Shepherdess,  to  which  he  has  pre- 
fixed the  Italian  title  of  La  Fida 
Pastora. 

Farciuhar,  George.  This 
gentleman  was  descended  from  a 
family  o.  no  inconsiderable  rank  in 
the  north  of  Ireland.  His  father, 
William  Farquhar,  was  a  clergy- 
man, and,  according  to  some,  Dean 
of  Armagh.  A  late  biographer, 
however,  who  appears  to  have 
good  information,  says  his  father 
had  only  a  living  in  the  church  of 
150/.  a  year,  and  that  he  had  se- 
ven children.  Our  author  was 
born  at  Londonderry,  in  16/8, 
where  he  received  the  rudiments 
of  erudition;  and  from  whence,  as 
soon  as  he  was  properly  qualified, 
he  was  sent  to  Trinity  College/ 
Dublin,  where  he  was  entered  as 
a  sizer,  July  17,  lGQ4 ;  but  the 
modes  of  study  in  that  place  being 
calculated  rather  for  m;.'  i.ig  deep 
than  polite  schi  lars,  and  Mr.  Far- 
quhar bt^ng  totally  averse  to  se- 
rious pursuits,  he  was  reckoned 
by  all  his  fellow-students  one 
of  the  dullest  young  men  in  the 
university,  and  even  as  a  compa- 
nion he  was  thought  extremely 
heavy  and  disagreeable.     A  writer 


226 


FAR 

of  his  life,  who  declares  that  he 
received  his  information  from  one 
of  Mr.    Farquhar's    intimate   ac- 
quaintance, mentions  this  and  the 
following  circumstance  ;  that  our 
author  having  received  a  college 
exercise,  from  his  tutor,  upon  the 
miracle  of  our  Saviour's  walking 
upon  the  water,  and  coming  into 
the  hall  for  examination  the  next 
day,  it  was  found  that  he  had  not 
brought  his  exercise  written  as  the 
rest  had  done  ;   at  which  the  lec- 
turer being  displeased,   Farquhar 
offered   to  make  one  extempore ; 
and  after  considering  some  time, 
he  observed,  that  he  thought  it  no 
great  miracle,  since  the  man  that 
is  born  to  be  hanged,   &c.     The 
impiety  of  this  reply  quite  extin- 
guished all  the  approbation  which 
he  expected  from  its  wit,  and  he 
was  accordingly,  next  bitting,  ex- 
pelled in  the  usual  form,  tanquam 
pestileutia  hiijus  societatis.    An  ac- 
count of  his  iife,  however,  which 
bears  every  mark  of  authenticity, 
says,  that  he  left    the  college  of 
Dublin  in  the  year  16Q5,  on  ac- 
count of  the  death  of  his  patron, 
Dr.  Wiseman,  Bishop  of  Dromore, 
and  makes  no  mention  of  his  hav- 
ing been  expelled.     On    quitting 
college,  be  engaged  himself  to  Mr. 
Ashbury,  the  manager  of  the  Dub- 
lin  theatre,  and  was  soon   intro- 
duced on  the  stage,  in  the  charac- 
ter of  Othello.    -In  this  situation 
he  continued  no  longer  than  part 
of  one  season,  nor  made -any  very 
considerable  figure.     For  though 
his  person  was  sufficiently  in  his 
favour,  and   he  was  possessed  of 
the  requisites  of  a  strong  reten- 
tive   memory,  a  just   manner   of 
speaking,  and  an  easy  and  elegant 
deportment,  yet  his  natural  diffi- 
dence  and   timidity,    or   what  is 
usually    termed    the   stage-terror, 
which  he  was  never  able  to  over- 


F  A  R 

come,  added  to  a  thin  insufficiency 
of  voice,  were  strong  bars  in  the 
way  of  his  success,  more  especially 
in    tragedy.     However,    notwith- 
standing these  disadvantages,  it  is 
not  improbable,  as  from  his  ami- 
able private  behaviour  he  was  very 
much    esteemed,   and   had    never 
met  with  the  least  repulse  from 
the    audience    in   any  of  his  per- 
formances,    that   he    might    have 
continued    much    longer   on    the 
stage,  but  for  an  accident  which 
determined   him    to  quit  it  on   a 
sudden  ;  for  being  to  play  the  part 
of  Guyomar,    in  Dryden's  Indian 
Emperor,  who  kills  Vasquez,  one 
of  the  Spanish  generals,  Mr.  Far- 
quhar, by  some  mistake,  took   a 
real  sword  instead  of  a  foil  on  the 
stage  with  him,  and  in   the  en- 
gagement wounded    his   brother- 
tragedian,   who  acted  Vasquez,  in 
so  dangerous  a  manner,  that,  al- 
though it  did  not  prove  mortal,  he 
was  a  long  time  before  he  reco- 
vered it ;  and  the  consideration  of 
the  fatal  consequences  that  might 
have  ensued,  wrought  so  strongly 
on  our  author's  humane  disposi- 
tion, that  he  took  up  a  resolution 
never  to  go  on  the  stage  again,  or 
submit  himself  to  the  possibility  of 
such  another  mistake. 

Thus  did  Mr.  Farquhar  quit 
the  stage,  at  a  period  of  life  when 
few  have  even  attempted  to  go 
on  it;  for  at  this  juncture  he  could 
not  have  been  much  more  than 
seventeen  years  of  age;  since  some 
time  afterwards,  when  Mr.  Wilks, 
being  engaged  again  to  Drury 
Lane  Theatre,  left  Dublin,  Mr. 
Farquhar  accompanied  him  to 
London;  and  this  event  happened 
no  later  than  in  the  year  1696,  at 
which  time  he  was  but  eighteen. 
Here  his  abilities  and  agreeable 
address  met  with  considerable  en- 
couragement, and  in  particular  ve- 


227 


FAR 

commended  him  to  the  patronage 
of  the  Earl  of  Orrery,  who  gave 
him  a  lieutenant's  commission  in 
his  own  regiment,  then  in  Ireland, 
which  he  held  several  years,  and 
in  His  military  capacity  constantly 
behaved  without  reproach,  giving 
on  many  occasions  proofs  of  great 
bravery  and  conduct. 

But  these  were  not  all  the  per- 
fections  which    appeared   in  Air. 
Farquhar ;   and   Mr.   Wilks,  who 
Avell  knew  his  humour  and  abili- 
ties, and   was  convinced  that  he 
would  make  a  much  more  con- 
spicuous figure  as  a  dramatic  wri- 
ter, than  as  a  theatrical  performer, 
never  ceased   his  solicitations   on 
that  head,  till  he  had  prevailed  on 
him  to  undertake  a  comedy,  which 
he  completed  and  brought  on  the 
stage  in  lb'cjS.     This  was  his  Love 
and  a  Bottle;   a  comedy,  which, 
though  written  by  its  author  when 
under  twenty   years   of  age,  yet 
contains  such  a   variety  of  inci- 
dents and  character,  and  such  a 
sprightliness  of  dialogue,  as  must 
convince  us,    that  even   then    he 
had  a  very  considerable  knowledge 
of  the   world,    and   a  very  clear 
judgment  of  the  manners  of  man- 
kind; and  the  success  of  it,  even 
notwithstanding    Mr.  Wilks,   the 
town's  great  favourite   in  comer 
dy,  had  no  part  in  it,  was  equal 
to  its  desert.     Whether  this  play 
made    its    appearance    before    or 
after  he  received  his  commission, 
does  not  seem  very  clear;  but  it  is 
evident  that  his   military  avoca- 
tions did  not  check  his  dramatic 
talents,  but  on  the  contrary  rather 
improved  them ;  since  in  many  of 
his  plays,  more  especially  in  his- 
Recruiting  Officer,  he  has  admira- 
bly availed  himself  of  the  observa- 
tions of  life  and  character,  with 
which  the  army  was  able  so  amply 


FAR 

to  supply  him.  And  with  such 
an  easy  pleasantry,  and  yet  so  se- 
vere a  critical  justice,  has  he  rallied 
the  foibles,  follies,  and  vices,  even 
of  those  characters  to  which  he 
might  have  been  supposed  the  most 
partial,  that  it  has  been  observed, 
if  he  had  not  been  himself  an 
Irishman  and  an  officer,  it  would 
have  been  almost  impossible  lot 
him  to  have  avoided  the  resent- 
ments which  would  probably  have 
fallen  on  him  for  the  liberty  he 
has  taken  in  some  of  his  pieces 
with  the  characters  of  the  gentle- 
men of  the  army,  as  well  as 
with  those  of  a  neighbouring  king- 
dom. 

The  success  of  his  first  play 
established  his  reputation,  and  en- 
couraged him  to  proceed  j  and  the 
winter  season  of  the  jubilee  year 
1/00,  gave  the  public  his  favourite 
play  of  The  Constant  Couple ;  or, 
A  Trip  to  the  Jubilee ;  in  which 
the  gay  airy  humour  thrown  into 
the  character  of  Sir  Harry  Wild- 
air,  was  so  well  suited  to  Mr. 
Wilks's  talents,  that  it  gave 
him  such  an  opportunity  of  exer- 
tion, as  greatly  heightened  his  re- 
putation with  the  public,  and  in 
good  measure  repaid  those  acts  of 
friendship  which  he.  had  ever  be- 
stowed on  Mr-  Farquhar.  This 
piece  was  played  fifty  -three  nights 
in  the  first  season.  The  following 
year  produced  a  sequel  to  it ;  which, 
though  much  the  most  indifferent 
of  all  his  plays,  yet  met  with  to- 
lerable success,  and  indeed  with 
much  better  than  the  comedy  of 
The  Inconstant,  which  he  gave  to 
the  public  next  year,  viz.  in  1702, 
and  which  vastly  excelled  it  in 
point  of  intrinsic  merit.  But  the 
failure  of  the  last-mentioned  piece 
was  entirely  owing  to  the  inunda- 
tion of  foreign  entertainments  of 
&3 


228 


FAR 

music,  singing,  dancing,  &c  which 
at  that  time  broke  in  upon  the 
English  stage  in  a  torrent,  seemed 
•with  a  magical  infat  ion  at  once 
to  take  possession  t  British  taste, 
and  occasioned  a  total  neglect  of 
the  more  valuable  and  stand... d 
productions  of  our  own  country- 
men. 

This  little  discouragement,  how- 
ever, did  not  put  a  stop  to  gpx 
author's  ardour  for  ..e  entertain- 
ment of  the  public,  since  we  find 
bim  still  writing  till  almost  the 
hour  of  his  death ;  his  Beaux  Stra- 
tagem havingbeen  produced  during 
his  last  illness,  and  his  death  hap- 
pening during  the  run  of  it.  We 
shall  in  this  place  complete  cur 
account  of  his  plays,  by  giving  an 
entire  list  of  them,  as  follows  : 

1.  Love  and  a  Bottle.     C.  4to. 

1699- 

2.  Constant   Couple.     C.     4  to. 

1700. 

3.  Sir  Harry  Wildair.  C.  4to. 
1701. 

4.  Inconstant.    C.  4to.    1702. 

5.  Twin  Rivals.    C.  4to.  1J03. 

6.  Stage  Coach.  F.  (assisted  by 
Motteux.)  4to.  1705. 

7.  Recruiting  Officer.  C.  4to. 
1705. 

8.  Beaux  Stratagem.      C.    4 to. 

1707. 

As  it  has  been  generally  imagin- 
ed, that  in  all  his  heroes  he  has  in- 
tended to  sketch  out  his  own  cha- 
racter, it  is  reasonable  to  con- 
jecture that  his  own  character  must 
have  borne  a  strong  resemblance  to 
that  of  those  heroes ;  who  are  in 
general  a  set  of  young,  gay,  ra- 
kish sparks,  guilty  of  some  wit- 
nesses and  follies,  but  at  the  same 
time  blessed  with  parts  and  abili- 
ties, and  adorned  with  courage 
and  honour.  It  is  not  therefore 
to  be  wondered  at,  that  from  the  few 
letters  of  his  which  are  extant  in 


FAR 
print,  we  find  him  strongly  sus- 
ceptible of  the  tenderer  passions, 
and  at  the  same  time  treating  them 
with    great    vivacity    and    levity. 
His  warmest  attachment,  however, 
appears  to  have  been  to  her  whom 
he  constantly  styles  his  dear  Pene- 
lope, who  is  supposed  to  have  been 
tiie  celebrated  Mrs.  Oldfield.   Nor 
is    it    nt    all    wonderful,    that    he 
should  find  his  heart  engaged  by  a 
lady  who  possessed  every  attraction 
both  of  person  and  conversation, 
and   to  whose  excellence   in    her 
profession   he  owed  much  of  the 
success  of  his  pieces ;  nor  that  she 
should  entertain   a  very  peculiar 
regard  for  a  young  gentleman  of 
wit,  spirit,  and  gallantry,  to  whose 
first  notice  of  her  she  stood    in- 
debted for  being  on   the  stage  at 
all,  and  whose  dramatic  labours 
afterwards  afforded  her  many  hap- 
py  opportunities  of  recommend- 
ing herself  to  the  public  favour  on 
it.  And  now,  as  we  have  mention- 
ed this  lady,  it  may  not  be  amiss 
to   explain    the   hint   thrown  out 
above,  that  it  was  wholly  owing 
to  Captain  Farquhar  that  she  be- 
came an   actress,    which    was    in 
consequence  of  the  following  in- 
cident. 

That  gentleman  dining  one  day 
at  her  aunt's,  who  kept  the  Mitre 
Tavern,  in  Sf.  James's  Market, 
heard  Miss  Nancy  reading  a  play 
behind  the  bar.  This  drew  his 
attention  to  listen  for  a  time ;  when 
he  was  so  pleased  with  the  proper 
emphasis  and  agreeable  turn  she 
gave  to  each  character,  that  he 
swore  the  girl  was  cut  out  for  the 
stage.  As  she  had  always  expressed 
an  inclination  for  that  way  of  life, 
and  a  desire  of  trying  her  fortune 
in  it.  her  mother,  on  this  en- 
couragement, the  next  time  she 
saw  Captain  Vanbrugh  (afterwards 
Sir  John).,  who  had  3  great  respect 


FAR 

for  the  family,  acquainted  him 
with  Captain  Farquhar's  opinion  j 
on  which  he  desired  to  know  whe- 
ther her  bent  was  most  to  tragedy 
or  comedy.  Miss,  being  called  in, 
informed  him,  that  her  principal 
inclination  was  to  the  latter,  hav- 
ing at  that  time  gone  through  all 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  comedies, 
and  the  play  she  was  reading  when 
Captain  Farquhar  dined  there  hav- 
ing been  The  Scornful  Lady.  Cap- 
tain Vanbrngh  shortly  after  recom- 
mended her  to  Mr.  Christopher 
Rich,  who  took  her  into  the  house 
at  the  allowance  of  fifteen  shillings 
per  week.  However,  her  agree- 
able figure  and  sweetness  of  voice 
soon  gave  her  the  preference,  in 
the  opinion  of  the  whole  town,  to 
all  the  young  actresses  of  that 
time;  and  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  in 
particular,  being  pleased  to  speak 
to  Mr.  Rich  in  her  favour,  he  in- 
stantly raised  her  to  twenty  shil- 
lings per  week.  After  which  her 
fame  and  salary  gradually  increas- 
ed, till  at  length  they  both  attained 
that  height  to  which  her  merit 
entitled  her. 

Whether  Mr.  Farquhar's  con- 
nexions with  this  lady  extended 
beyond  the  limits  of  meie  friend- 
ship, it  is  not  our  intention  here  to 
inquire.  But,  of  what  kind  soever 
they  were,  it  is  evident  they  did 
not  long  interfere  with  any  more 
regular  engagement;  for,  in  1703, 
Capt.  Farquhar  was  married,  and, 
according  to  general  report,  to  a 
lady  of  very  good  fortune ;  but 
in  this  particular  the  Captain  and 
the  public  were  both  alike  mis- 
taken ;  for  the  real  fact  was,  that 
the  lady,  who  in  truth  had  no  for- 
tune at  all,  had  fallen  so  violently 
in  love  with  our  author,  that,  de- 
termined to  have  him  3t  any  rate, 
and  judging,  perhaps  very  justly, 
that  a  gentleman  of  his  volatile 


229 

FAR 

and  dissipated  humour  would  not 
easily  be  drawn  into  the  matrimo- 
nial cage,  without  the  bait  of  some 
very  considerable  advantage  to  al- 
lure him  to  it,  she  contrived  to 
have  it  given  out  that  she  was  pos- 
sessed of  a  large  fortune;  and  find- 
ing means  afterwards  to  let  Mr. 
Farquhar  know  her  attachment  to 
him,  the  united  powers  of  interest 
and  vanity  perfectly  got  the  better 
of  his  passion  for  liberty,  and  they 
were  united  in  the  hymeneal  bands. 
But  how  great  was  his  disappoint- 
ment, when  he  found  all  his  pro- 
spects overclouded  so  early  in  life 
(for  he  was  then  no  more  than  four- 
and-twenty),  by  a  marriage  from 
which  he  had  nothing  to  expect 
but  an  annual  increase  of  family, 
and  an  enlargement  of  expense  in 
consequence  of  it.  far  beyond  what 
his  income  would  support !  Yet  to 
his  immortal  honour  be  it  record- 
ed, that  though  he  found  himself 
thus  deceived  in  a  most  essential  par- 
ticular, he  never  once  was  known 
to  upbraid  his  wife  for  it,  but 
generously  forgave  an  imposition 
which  love  for  him  alone  had 
urged  her  to,  and  even  behaved  to 
her  with  all  the  tenderness  and 
delicacy  of  the  most  indulgent 
husband. 

Mrs.  Farquhar, however,  did  not 
very  long  enjoy  the  happiness  she 
had  purchased  by  this  stratagem  ; 
for  the  circumstances  tnat  attend- 
ed this  union  were  in  some  respect 
perhaps  the  means  of  shortening 
the  period  of  the  Captain's  life. 
Finding  himself  considerably  in- 
volved in  debt,  in  consequence  of 
their  increasing  family,  he  was 
induced  to  make  application  to  a 
certain  noble  courtier,  who  had 
frequently  professed  >Le  greatest 
friendship  for  him,  anu  given  him 
the  strongest  assurances  of  intended 
services.  This  pretended  patron 
a  3 


330 

FAR  FAR 

repeated   his  former  decimations,  a  manner  did  he  treat  the  expecta- 

but,  expressing  much  concern  that  tion  of  that  fatal  event,  as  even  to 

he  had  nothing  at  present  imnie-  be    able   to   exercise    his    wonted 

diately  in  his  power,  advised  him  pleasantry  on  the  very  subject.  For 

to   convert    his    commission    into  while  his  play  was  in  rehearsal,  his 

money  to  answer  his  present  occa-  friend  Mr.  Wilks,  who  frequently 

:-:ions,  and  assured  him  that    in  a  visited  him  during  his  illness,  ob- 

\ery  short  time  he  would  procure  serving  to  him  that  Mrs.  Oldfield 

another  for  him.     Farquhar,  who  thought  he   had   dealt  too  freely 

could  not  bear  the  thoughts  of  his  with  the  character  of  Mrs.  Sullen, 

wife  and  family  being  in  distress,  in  giving  her  to  Archer,  without 

and  was  therefore  ready  to  lay  hold  such  a  proper  divorce  as  might  be 

on  any  expedient  for  their  relief,  a  security  for   her  honour, — Oh, 

followed  this  piece  of  advice,  and  replied  the  author,  with   his  ac- 

sold  his  commission ;  but  to  his  customed  vivacity,  /  unit,  if  she. 

great  mortification  and  disappoint-  pleases,  salve  that  immediately,  ly 

ment  found,  on  a  renewal  of  his  getting  a  real  divorce,  marrying  her 

application  to  this  inhuman  noble-  myself,  avd  giving  her  my  bond  thai 

man,  that  he  had  either  entirely  she  shall  be  a  real  widow  in  less  than 
forgotten,  or  had  never  intended  a  fortnight.  But  nothing  can  give 
to  perform,  the  promise  he  had     a  more  perfect  idea  of  that  dispo- 

made  him.  This  distracting  frus-  sition  we  have  hinted  at  in  him, 
tration  of  all  his  hopes  fixed  itself  than  the  very  laconic  but  expres- 
so  strongly  on  our  author's  mind,  sive  billet  which  Mr.  Wilks  found, 
that  it  soon  brought  on  him  a  sure,  after  his  death,  among  his  papers, 
though  not  a  very  sudden  declen-  directed  to  himself,  and  which,  a» 
sion  of  nature,  which  at  length  a  curiosity  in  its  kind,  we  cannot 
carried  him  off  the  stage  of  life,  in  refrain  from  giving  to  cur  readers ; 
the  latter  end  of  April  1 7<^7s  be-     it  was  as  follows: 


fore  he  could  well  be  said  to  have 
run  half  his  course,  being  not  quite 
thirty  years  of  age  when  he  died. 

Notwithstanding  the  several  dis- 
appointments and  vexations  which 
this  gentleman  met  with  during 
his  short  stay  in  this  transitory 
world,  nothing  seems  to  have  been 
able  to  overcome  the  readiness  of 
his  genius,  or  the  easy  good-nature 
of  his  disposition  ;  for  he  began 
and  finished  his  well-known  co- 


"  Dear  Bob, 
"  I  have  not  any  thing  to  leave 
"  thee. to  perpetuate  my  memory, 
"  but  two  helpless  girls  j  look  upon 
"  them  sometimes,  and  think  of 
"  him  that  was,  to  the  last  moment 
"  of  his  life,  thine, 

"  George  Fakquhae." 
Nor  would  it  be  doing  justice  to 
Mr.  Wilks* s  memory  not  to  observe 
in  this  place,  that  he  paid  the  most 
punctual  regard  to  the  request  oi 


medy  of  The  Beaux  Stratagem  in  his  dying  friend,  by  showing  them 

about  six  weeks,  during  his  last  ill-  every  act  of  regard  ;    and  when 

ness  ;   notwithstanding   he,  for  a  they  became  fit  to  be  put  out  into 

great  part  of  the   time,  was  ex-  the  world,  procured  a  benefit  for 

tremely  sensible  of  the  approaches  each  of  them  for  that  purpose, 

of  death,  and  even  foretold  what  Of  Mr.  Farquhar's  family,  his 

actually  happened,    viz.    that   he  wife  died  in  circumstances  of  the 

should  die  before  the  run  of  it  was  utmost   indigence  ;    one    of    his 

•ver.  Nay,  in  $o  calm  and  manly  daughters  was  married  to  a  low 


F  A  R 
tradesman,  and  died  soon  after ; 
the  other  was  living  in  l/t)4,  in 
mean  indigent  circumstances,  with- 
out any  knowledge  of  refinement 
either  in  sentiments  or  expenses ; 
she  seemed  to  Like  no  pride  in  her 
father's  fame,  and  was  in  every 
respect  fitted  to  her  humble  situ- 
ation. 

Of  his  character  as  a  man,  we 
have  an  account  by  himself  in  a 
piece,  addressed  to  a  lady,  which 
he  calls  The  Picture.  It  begins 
thus  :  "  My  outside  is  neither 
"  better  nor  worse  than  my  Crea- 
"  tor  made  it ;  and  the  piece  being 
"  drawn  by  so  great  an  artist,  it 
"  were  presumption  to  say  there 
"  were  many  strokes  amiss.  I 
"  have  a  body  qualified  to  answer 
"  all  the  ends  of  its  creation,  and 
"  that  is  sufficient. 

"  As  to  the  mind,  which  in 
"  most  men  wears  as  many changes 
"  as  their  body,  so  in  me  it  is 
"  generally  dressed  like  my  person, 
"  in  black.  Melancholy  is  its 
"  every  day  apparel;  and  it  has 
"  hitherto  found  few  holidays  to 
"  make  it  change  its  clothes.  In 
"  short,  my  constitution  is  very 
"  splenetic,  and  yet  very  amorous; 
"  both  which  I  endeavour  to  hide, 
"  lest  the  former  should  offend 
"  others,  and  that  the  latter  might 
"  incommode  myself.  And  my 
"  reason  is  so  vigilant  in  restrain- 
"  ing  these  two  failings,  that  I  am 
"  taken  for  an  easy-natured  man 
*'  with  my  own  sex,  and  an  111 — 
*'  natured  clown  by  yours. 
****** 

"  I  have  very  little  estate,  but 
"  what  lies  under  the  circumfe- 
"  rence  of  my  hat ;  and  should  I 
'<  by  mischance  come  to  lose  my 
"  head,  I  should  not  be  worth  a 
"  groat ;  but  I  ought  to  thank 
"  Providence  that  I  can  by  three 
"  hour*  study  live  one  and  twenty 


231 

FAR 

"  with  satisfaction  to  myself,  and 
"  contribute  to  the  maintenance 
"  of  more  families  than  some  who 
"  have  thousands  a  year. 

"  I  have  something  in  my  outward 
"  behaviour,  which  gives  strangers 
"  a  worse  opinion  of  me  than  I 
"  deserve;  but  I  am  more  than 
"  recompensed  by  the  opinion  of 
"  my  acquaintance,  which  is  as 
"  much  above  my  desert. 

"  I  have  many  acquaintance, 
"  very  few  ioti  mates,  but  no  friend, 
"  I  mean  in  the  old  romantic  way  ; 
"  I  have  no  secret  so  weighty,  but 
"  what  I  can  bear  in  my  own 
"  breast;  nor  any  duels  to  fight, 
"  but  what  I  may  engage  in  with** 
"  out  a  second ;  nor  can  I  love 
"  after  the  old  romantic  discipline. 
"  1  would  have  my  passion,  if 
"  not  led,  yet  at  least  waited  on* 
"  by  my  reason  ;  and  the  greatest 
'/  proof  of  my  affection  that  a  lady 
"  must  expect,  is  this  'r  I  would 
' '  run  any  hazard  to  make  us  both 
"  happy,  but  would  not  for  any 
"  transitory  pleasure  make  either 
"  of  us  miserable. 

"  If  ever,  Madam,  you  come 
"  to  know  the  life  of  this  piece, 
"  as  well  as  he  that  drew  it,  you 
"  will  conclude  that  I  need  not 
f  subscribe  the  name  to  the  pic- 
"•'  ture." 

As  a  writer,  the  opinions  of 
critics  have  been  various ;  the 
general  character  which  has  been 
given  of  his  comedies  is,  that  the 
success  of  most  of  them  far  exceed- 
ed the  author's  expectations  ;  that 
he  was  particularly  happy  in  the 
choice  of  his  subjects,  which  he 
always  took  care  to  adorn  with  a 
great  variety  of  characters  and  in- 
cidents ;  that  his  style  is  pure  and 
unaffected,  his  wit  natural  and 
flowing,  and  his  plots  generally 
well  contrived.  But  then,  on  the 
contrary,  it  has  been  objected,  that 
«4 


232 


FAR 


he  was  too  hasty  in  his  productions ; 
that  his  works  are  loose,  though 
indeed  not  so  grossly  libertine  as 
those  of  some  other  wits  of  his 
time)  that  his  imagination,  though 
lively,  was  capable  of  no  great 
compass  5  and  his  wit,  though  pass- 
able, not  such  as  would  gain  ground 
on  consideration.  In  a  word,  he 
seems  to  have  been  a  man  of  a 
genius  rather  sprightly  than  great, 
rather  flowing  than  solid ;  his  cha- 
racters are  natural,  yet  not  over- 
strongly  marked,  nor  peculiarly 
heightened  3  yet,  as  it  is  apparent 
he  drew  his  observations  from  those 
he  conversed  with,  and  formed  all 
his  portraits  from  nature,  it  is  more 
than  probable,  that  if  he  had  lived 
to  have  gained  a  more  general 
knowledge  of  life,  or  his  circum- 
stances had  not  been  so  straitened 
as  to  prevent  his  mingling  with 
persons  of  rank,  we  might  have 
seen  his  plays  embellished  with 
more  finished  characters,  aiid 
adorned  with  a  more  polished  dia- 
logue. 

Gn  the  whole,  however,  his 
pieces  are  very  entertaining  ;  and 
some  of  them,  after  a  whole 
century  has  passed  over  them, 
are  still  among  the  greatest  fa- 
vourites of  the  public.  His  Tuin 
Rivals  has  been  considered  by  the 
critics  as  his  most  perfect,  regular, 
and  finished  play,  yet  it  is  far  from 
standing  in  the  same  rank  of  pre- 
ference with  the  audience  ;  which 
is  one  instance  among  many  that 
serve  to  evince,  that  the  art  of 
pleasing  in  dramatic  writings,  and 
more  especially  in  comedy,  fre- 
quently depends  on  a  certain  hap- 
piness, which  cannot  be  reduced 
within  the  limits  of  any  didactic 
rules  or  critical  investigation. 

Farrer,  .  To  a  gentle- 
man of  Oundle,  -of  this  name,  we 
have  heard  ascribed 


F  A  W 

The  Tryal  of  Abraham.    Dram. 
Poem.  Svo.  Stamford.   1/90. 

Fawcett,  John.  This  favourite 
comedian,  of  Covent  Garden  The- 
atre, is  the  son  of  a  respectable 
performer,  upwards  of  thirty  years 
attached  to  the  Drury  Lane  Com- 
pany, and  was  born  in  London 
about  1769.  He  received  his  edu- 
cation at  St.  Paul's  school,  and 
was  afterwards  bound  apprentice 
to  a  respectable  linen-draper,  in 
the  city.  Adopting,  however,  a 
predilection  for  the  stage,  he 
"  showed  his  master  a  fair  pair  of 
*'  heels,"  and  joined  a  strolling 
company,under  the  assumed  name 
of  Foote.  His  first  appearance  was 
at  Margate,  as  Courtall,  in  The 
Belle's  Stratagem.  He  afterwards 
removed  to  Tunbridge ;  where  his 
performances  attracted  the  notice 
of  Mr.  Cumberland,  and  gained 
him  the  favour  of  Lord  Abingdon, 
the  latter  of  whom  gave  him  some 
instructions  in  music.  He  was 
afterwards  engaged  at  York,  where 
he  played  three  tragic  characters, 
Romeo,  Oroonoko,  and  Douglas ; 
but  on  the  departure  of  Mr. 
Knight  from  the  company,  he 
made  a  stipulation  that  he  should 
never  be  obliged  to  play  a  tragic 
character  again.  He  now  mar- 
ried Mrs.  Mills,  then  recently  be- 
come a  widow ;  and  his  fame  in 
low  comedy  having  reached  Lon- 
don, he  received  a  liberal  offer 
from  Mr.  Harris,  whose  company 
had  then  lately  lost  Edwin.  He 
made  his  first  appearance  at  Co- 
vent  Garden  Theatre,  Sept.  21, 
179] ,  as  Caleb,  in  He  ivou'd  be  a 
Soldier,  and  was  received  with 
great  and  deserved  applause.  On 
Mr.  Bannister's  leaving  the  Hay- 
market  Theatre,  he  recommended 
Mr.  Fawcett  to  Mr.  Colman ;  and, 
in  1795,  he  was  engaged  by  that 
srentleman  for  the  summer  seasons. 


233 


F  E  I 


FEN 


So  much  did  he  conduct  himself 
to  the  satisfaction  of  Mr.  Colman, 
tli3t  not  long  after  he  was  appointed 
acting-manager ;  which  situation 
he  held  till  1 S03  ;  when  Mr.  Col- 
man, who  had  sustained  great  in- 
convenience and  loss  by  the  more 
and  more  protracted  seasons  of  the 
winter  theatres,  from  which  he 
was  used  to  form  his  company,  de- 
termined to  open  his  house  at  as 
early  a  period  of  the  summer  as 
his  patent  allowed  ;  and  therefore 
began  his  performances  May  lG, 
1803,  with  a  selection  from  pro- 
vincial theatres  ;  at  the  head  of 
whom  he  placed,  as  we  have  in 
another  part  mentioned,  Mr.  El- 
liston  as  acting-manager.  Mr. 
Fawcett's  first  wife  died  in  1797 > 
leaving  behind  her  a  daughter  :  he 
afterwards  married  Miss  Gawdry, 
by  whom  he  has  a  young  family. 
As  an  actor,  his  talents  are  versa- 
tile :  the  comic  old  man  or  simple 
rustic  j  the  waggish  servant  or  pe- 
dantic master ;  sit  on  him  with 
equal  ease.  In  private  life,  he 
preserves  the  dignity  of  a  gentle- 
man ;  and  no  traits  of  his  profes- 
sion are  to  be  discovered  in  his 
conversation.  He  has  produced 
for  the  theatres  the  following  suc- 
cessful pieces : 

1.  OH.     Pant.  Dr.    8vo.  1800. 

2.  Perouse.     Pant.  Dr.     Songs, 
Sec.  8vo.  1801. 

3.  The  Enchanted  Island.  Dram. 
Bal.     1S04. 

Feilde,  Matthew,  was  rector 
of  St.  Anne,  Aldersgate,  a  pre- 
bendary of  St.  Paul's,  and  some 
time  under  grammar-master  of 
Christ's  Hospital.  He  was  of  Pem- 
broke Hall,  Cambridge,  where  he 
took  the  degree  of  B.  A.  l/7'^» 
M.  A.  1/75,  and  died  August  11, 
1796;  having  produced  an  unsuc- 
cessful piece,  entitled 
4 


Vertumnus  and  Pomona.     Past. 
1/82.     Songs  only  printed. 

Fennell,  .  This  gentle- 
man, a  native  of  Wales,  was  in- 
tended for  the  bar ;  but  an  insu- 
perable predilection  for  the  stage 
rendered  the  study  of  the  law 
irksome  j  and,  in  1787,  he  went 
to  Edinburgh,  where,  under  the 
assumed  name  of  Cambray,  he 
performed  Othello,  Jaffier,  &c. 
with  great  approbation.  Encou- 
raged by  this  reception,  he  came 
to  London,  and  offered  himself  to 
Mr.  Harris,  who  fixed  a  night  for 
his  appearance;  and  on  the  12th 
of  October,  of  the  same  year, 
he  made  his  first  bow  at  Co- 
vent  Garden  in  the  character  of 
Othello,  retaining  his  fictitious 
name.  After  this,  he  played  Jaf- 
fier, Alexander  the  Great,  &c.  But 
as  his  talents  did  not  excite  the 
admiration  that  he  wished  and 
probably  expected,  he  thought  it 
advisable  to  return  to  Edinburgh, 
with  a  view  of  improving  him- 
self; but  he  had  scarcely  renewed 
his  former  estimation  before  he 
was  driven  from  that  stage,  in  the 
most  arbitrary,  ungenerous,  and 
unjust  manner.  The  play  of  Ve- 
nice Preservedwas  to  be  performed ; 
and  Mr.  Woods,  who  had  been 
the  Scotch  Roscius  for  several  years, 
already  chagrined  at  the  reputation 
of  Mr.  Fennell,  was  mortified  and 
alarmed  when  the  part  of  Jaffier 
was  taken  from  him,  and  given  to 
the  latter ;  though  this  was  done 
without  any  design  of  hurting  him, 
but  merely  to  cast  the  play  as 
strongly  as  possible;  and  Pierre, 
a  character  of  equal,  if  not  supe- 
rior, consequence,  was  given  him 
in  exchange.  This  was  entirely 
the  act  of  the  manager ;  for  Fen- 
nell approved  of  the  soldier  asmuch 
as   the  lover.     Mr.  Woods,  who 


134 


F  E  X 

trras  originally  a  printer,  felt  him- 
self piqued  and  insulted  by  the 
change.  As  he  professed  to  teach 
the  Scotch  how  to  speak  English, 
and  conducted  himself  with  great 
propriety  in  private  life,  he  was 
admitted  into  geuteel  circles,  and 
commanded  such  influence,  that 
no  manager  dared  play  in  Edin- 
burgh without  engaging  him  on 
h'u  own  terms.  Elevated  in  his 
own  ideas,  he  imagined  an  ex- 
planation with  Jackson  would  be 
derogating  from  his  importance. 
He  waited  on  several  young  law- 
yers who  had  formerly  been  his 
pupils,  and  represented  his  griev- 
ance in  the  strongest  colours,  with 
the  advantage  of  having  auditors 
previously  prepossessed  in  his  fa- 
vour. They  instantly  caught  fire  ; 
and,  after  calling  a  numerous 
meeting,  they  went  to  the  theatre 
in  a  body,  resolved  to  vent  their 
indignation  on  Mr.  Fen  n  ell.  When- 
ever he  appeared,  he  was  saluted 
with  hissing ;  called  on  to  answer: 
how  he  dared  take  Jaffier  from 
Mr.  Woods  ;  insulted,  and  loaded 
with  the  most  opprobrious  invec- 
tives. He  endeavoured  to  explain ; 
but,  on  hearing  a  zealot  stigmatize 
him  in  the  most  odious  language, 
his  feelings  as  a  man  were  so  put 
to  the  quick,  that  he  replied, 
(f  The  person  who  says  so  is  a  vil- 
'{  lain  !"  This  assertion,  not  be- 
in«  generally  understood,  gave 
great  offence,  and  he  was  called 
on  to  make  a  submission  the  most 
humiliating;  which  he  refused, 
and  in  consequence  was  forced  to 
quit  the  stage.  Though  the  arbi- 
trary body  of  lawyers  became  his 
bitter  enemies,  yet  the  unpreju- 
diced inhabitants  of  Edinburgh 
thought  him  shamefully  injured. 
The  story  spread,  not  only  through 
Scotland,  but  England  and  Ire- 
land; it  was  every  where  talked  of. 


TEX 
and  the  irascible-Caledonians  wcr£ 

universally  execrated.  Every  (Hie 
felt  tor  Mr.  Fennell,  and  wished  to 
see  his  wrongs  redressed.  Finding 
so  many  friends,  and  feeling  jus- 
tice so  much  on  his  side,  he  brought 
an  action  against  the  ringleaders 
for  depriving  him  of  his  livelihood  ; 
but  here  he  found  himself  in  an 
awkward  predicament.  To  the 
disgrace  of  the  country,  not  one 
advocate  could  be  found  to  plead 
his  cause,  though  it  was  well  k  nowa 
to  be  a  good  one;  until  Mr.  Charles 
Hope  an.l  Mr.  Lewis  Grant  stood 
forth  his  champions,  rather  than 
not  rescue  Scotland  from  the  igno- 
miny of  being  destitute  of  advo- 
cates to  plead  the  cause  of  an 
oppressed  individual.  But,  as  Sif 
Harry  Wildair  says,  "  it  is  win 
"  to  contend  with  a  man  in  his 
"  own  profession  ;."  for,  after  pro- 
secuting the  conspirators  with  all 
possible  rigournear  twelve  months, 
he  found  himself  as  distant  from 
redress  as  wdien  he  first  began  ; 
and,  as  if  it  were  to  exonerate  the 
friends  to  his  cause  from  mortifica- 
tion at  his  ill  success,  he  consented 
to  apologize  on  the  public  stage, 
and  acknowledge  himself  in  the 
wrong,  though  every  one  present 
knew  he  had  not  done  wrong  till 
that  moment!  For  this  action, 
which  changed  the  public  commi- 
seration into  contempt,  we  cannot 
account :  it  was  not  from  a  view  of 
emolument  in  Edinburgh,  as  he 
soon  after  left  that  city;  and  it 
could  not  be  from  a  conviction  of 
his  error.  He  performed  a  few 
nights  in  York,  and  obtained  an- 
other engagement  at  Covent  Gar- 
den in  1/89,  where,  however, 
he  seldom  performed,  and  was  dis- 
charged at  the  end  of  the  season. 
On  the  commencement  of  the 
following  season  he  thought  to 
effect  by  his  pen  what,  he  could 


235 

FEN 
not   accomplish   by   his   dramatic 

ntsj  and  to  frighten  the  ma- 
nagers into  a  compliance  with  his 
wishes,  by  scourging  them  in  a 
periodica!  publication,  e ntitled  The 
Theatrical  Guardian!  He  profess- 
ed co  redress  all  theatrical  griev- 
ances, and  he  spoke  many  strong 
and  bitter  truths ;  but  lie  tailed  in 
his  design ;  the  publication  was 
dropped  j  the  managers  remained 
unreformed;  and  Mr.  Fennell  was 
disengaged  from  any  of  the  Lon- 
don theatres.  What  became  of 
him  after  this  we  know  not  with 
» '-rtainty,  but  think  that  he  went 
to  America.  As  a  dramatist,  he 
h  is  only  the  credit  of  the  follow- 
ing  production  -. 

Lindor  and  Clara.    Com.    8vo. 

1791. 

But  he  also  published,  1/92,  an 
octavo    volume,  called  A  Review 
of  the  Proceedings  at  Paris  during 
last  Summer. 

Fenton,  Elijah.  This  gen- 
tleman was  the  youngest  of  eleven 
children,  and  was  born  May  20, 
lu"S3,  at  a  place  called  Shelton, 
near  Newcastle  -  under  -  Line,  in 
Staffordshire,  in  which  county 
are  several  families  of  the  name  of 
Fenton,  all  of  whom  are  branches 
from  the  same  original  stock, 
which  was  a  very  ancient  and  ho- 
nourable one.  Nor  had  he  less 
right  to  boast  of  the  antiquity  of 
his  family  on  the  female  side;  his 
mother  being  lineally  descended 
from  one  Mare,  who  was  an  officer 
in  William  the  Conqueror's  army. 
He  was  intended  for  the  mini -try  ; 
(o  prepare  him  for  which,  he  was 
senttotheuuiversityoft 
and  entered  of  Jesus  College, 
where  he  took  the  degree  Of  ba- 
chelor of  arts  in  1704,  and  that 
of  M.  A.  at  Trinity  College,  in 
1/26.  Here,  however,  he  em- 
braced principles  very  opposite  to 


FEN 

the  government,  whereby  he  be1 
came    disqualified    for  the  takiug 
of  orders.     Soon  after  his  quitting 
the  university,  he  was  entertained 
by  Charles,   Earl  of  Orrery,  as  his 
secretary  in  Flanders,  and  also  as 
tutui  to  his  son  John,  Lord  Boyle, 
lie.  was  at  one  period  an  usher  in 
the  school  of  Mr.  Bomvicke,  ia 
Surrey,  and  probably  was  assisted 
by  his  elder  brother,   who  had  ao 
estate  of  a   thousand  pounds  per 
annum,    and    to    whom    he   con- 
stantly paid    a   yearly  visit.      He 
afterwards   kept  a  school  himself 
at  Seven  Oaks  in  Kent.     He  was 
a  man  of  great  humanity  and  ten* 
derness,  and  of  a  most  affable  and 
genteel  behaviour;  which  qualities, 
joined  to  his  great  good  sense  and 
literary  abilities,  highly  endeared 
him    to  all  who  knew  him,  and 
more  especially  to   his   relations 
by  whom  he  was  greatly  caressed. 
His  life,  not  being  intermingled 
with  any  affairs  of  public  business, 
was,    like   that   of  most   studious 
men,  very  barren  of  incident.     It 
.   however,  blest  with  an  un- 
interrupted calm,  which  heeirjoycd 
till  the  inevitable  stroke  deprived 
the  world  of  him  and  his  virtues, 
on   the    13th  of.  July   1730.     He 
died  and  was  buried  at  East  Hampr 
stead   Park,  near  Oakingham,  in 
Berkshire,  leaving  behind  him  the 
same  fair  reputation  he  had  carried 
with  him  tjirough  life.     In  short, 
he  was  perhaps  the  very  happiest 
man   among  the  whole  extensive 
number  that  we  have  occasion  to 
mention    in    the    course   of  this 
work.     He  had  that  good  fortune 
which     rarely   befais    authors,    of 
having  his    merits  acknowledged 
and  respected  during  his  lifetime, 
without  having  laid  himself  open 
to    the    jealousy   or    malevolence 
even  of  his   brother-writers  :,  and 
as,  while  living,  lie  enjoyed  the 


235 


FEN 
friendship  of  Mr.  Pope,  so  after 
death  he  received  from  that  poet 
the  tribute  of  a  very  elegant  epi- 
taph, which  is  to  be  found  in  Mr. 
Pope's  works,  and  which  more 
strongly  characterizes  the  goodness 
of  the  person  it  was  written  upon, 
than  all  that  could  be  added  on  this 
occasion  could  possibly  do. 

Mr.  Fenton  wrote  many  poems, 
but  only  one  dramatic  piece,  which 
is  entitled 

Mariatnne.  T.  8vo.  1723. 
This,  however  met  with  perhaps 
as  much  appl  v  e  as  any  play  that 
had  appeared  for  many  years  both 
before  and  after  it  ;  and  indeed 
much  more  than  could  be  expected 
under  the  disadvantageous  circum- 
stances that  attended  on  its  first 
appearance  •  for,  in  consequence 
of  the  ill-behaviour  of  the  mana- 
gers of  Drury  Lane  theatre,  who, 
notwithstanding  repeated  promises 
to  the  contrary,  had  delayed  bring- 
ing it  on  for  three  or  four  years 
together,  he  was  induced,  and  in- 
deed advised  by  his  friends,  to 
carry  it  to  the  theatre  in  Lincoln's 
Ind  Fields,  where  he  was  assured 
that  his  interest  should  be  strongly 
supported  ;  and  indeed  these  pro- 
mises were  amply  performed ;  for, 
although  that  theatre  was  then  so 
entirely  out  of  favour  with  the 
town,- which  in  general  is  guided 
by  caprice  and  fashion  alone,  that, 
for  a  long  time  before,  the  ma- 
nagers had  scarcely  ever  been  able 
to  defray  their  charges,  nay,  fre- 
quently had  acted  to  audiences  of 
five  or  six  pouiv' 
this  piece  not  only 
ed  houses  for  several  nights  toge- 
ther, but  seemed  by  so  doing  to 
have  turned  the  current  of  public 
favour  into  a  new  channel,  from 
;  which,  during  the  existence  of  that 
•theatre,  it  never  after  so  totally 
deviated,  as  it  had  done  for  a  con- 
siderable while  before. 


F  E  R 

The  following  remark  of  Mr. 
Horace  Walpole,  in  the  postscript 
to  his  Mysterious  Mother,  does  so 
much  honou;  Mr.  Fenton  as  a 
poet,  that  it  ought  not  to  be  omit- 
ted at  the  conclusion  of  this  short 
account  of  him  :  **  The  excellence 
"  of  our  Iramatic  writers  is  by  no 
"  means  .jnual  to  that  of  the  great 
"  men  we  have  produced  in  other 
"  walks.  Theatric  genius  lay  dor- 
"  mant  after  kspeare  ;  waked, 
"  with  some  bold  and  glorious,  but 
f*  irregular  and  often  ridiculous, 
"  flights,  in  Dryden ;  revived  in 
"  Otway ;  maintained  a  placid 
"  pleasing  kind  of  dignity  in  Rowe, 
"  and  even  shone  in  his  Jane  Shore. 
"It  trod  in  sublime  and  classic 
"  fetters  in  Catn,  but  was  void  of 
"  nature,  or  the  power  of  affecting 
"  the  passions.  In  Southern  it 
"  seemed  a  genuine  ray  of  nature 
"  and  Shakspeare;  but  falling  on 
"  an  age  still  more  Hottentot,  was 
"  stifled  in  those  gross  and  bar- 
"  barous  productions,  tragi-come- 
"  dies.  It  turned  to  tuneful  non- 
"  sense  in  The  Mourning  Bride; 
"  grew  stark  mad  in  L^e;.  whose 
"  cloak,  a  little  the  worse  for 
"wear,  fell  on  Young;  yet  in 
"  both  was  still  a  poet's  cloak.  It 
"  recovered  its  senses  in  Hughes 
"  and  Fenton,  who  were  afraid 
"  it  should  relapse,  and  accordingly 
"  kept  it  down  with  a  timid,  but 
"  amiable,  hand — and  then  it  lan- 
"  guished.  We  have  not  mounted 
"  again  above  the  two  last." 

Mr.  Fenton  hr:d  begun  another 
the  merit  of  play;  but  had  made  small  progress 
ught  crowd-    in  it.     It  was  to  be  called 

Dion.     Trag. 

Fenwick,  John.  We  know 
nothing  more  of  this  gentleman, 
than  as  having  produced  one  dra- 
matic piece,  called 

The  Indian.     F.     Svo.  1SOO. 

Ferrar,  John.    A  person  who 


237 

FIE  FIE 

wrote,  and  published  at  Limerick,  on   the   authority  of  Roberts  the 
together  with  some  Miscellaneous  player,  in  his  answer  to  Pope,  is 
Poems,  supposed    to    be   the    same    Field 
The.    Orphan  ;    or,    The  Happy  whose  name  is  joined  with  those 
Marriage.     Trag.     Svo.  l/O'o.  of    Heminge,     Burbadge,    Con- 
It  is  inscribed  to  the  gentlemen  dell,  &c.  before  the  folio  edition 
of  the  49th,  56th,  and  G\5th  re-  of  Shakspeare's  works,  and  also  in 
giments  of  foot.  the  dramatis  persons  prefixed  to 
Fekrers,  Edward,  was  of  a  the  Cynthia's  Bevels  of  Ben  Jon- 
good  family  at  BaldesleyClinton,  in  son.      He    wrote    two    dramatic 


Warwickshire  ;  but  the  name  of 
the  particular  place  where  he  was 
born,  or  that  of  the  house  in  Ox- 
ford where  he  was  educated,  are 
circumstances  unknown.  It  is, 
however,  certain,  that  he  conti- 
nued    there     some    years ;     and 


pieces,    whose   titles   are    as   fol- 
low : 

1.  A   Won.    •!  '■  a  Weathercock. 
C.     4to.  1612. 

2.  Amends  for  Ladies.    C.  4lo. 
1618. 

Besides  these,  he  was  concerned 
when  he  left  the  university,  had  with  Massinger  in  the  writing  of 
written  several  tragedies  and  co-  a  very  good  play,  called 
medies,  or  interludes,  all  which  The  Fatal  Dowry.  T.  4to.  1632. 
gave  the  King  so  much  good  re-  on  which  two  authors  since  have 
creation,  that,  as  Pattenham  says,  formed  the  groundwork  of  their 
he  had  thereby  many  good  re-  respective  tragedies;  viz.  Mr. Rcwe, 
wards;  and  he  further  adds,  that  that  01  his  Fair  Penitent;  and 
for  such  things  as  he  hath  seen  of  Aaron  Hdl,  of  one  which  he  left 
his  writing,  and  of  the  writing  of  behind  him  unfinished,  by  the 
Thomas  Sackvile,  they  deserve  the  title  of  The  Insolvent ;  or,  Filial 
price,  ice.   He  probably  died  1564.     Piety. 

None  of  his    plays  have   reached        We  have  not  been  able  to  trace 
the  present  times.  the  period  either  of  the  birth  ov 

Ferriar,  Dr.  John,  physician  death  -:f  this  author. 
to  the  Manchester  Infirmary  and  Fielding,  Henry.  This  justly 
Lunatic  Hospital,  is  author  of  celebrated  writer  was  born  at 
Medical  Histories  and  Refections,  Sharpham  Park,  in  Somersetshire, 
2  vol.  Svo.  and  of  several  excellent  or,  as  some  say,  in  Capel  Street, 
papers  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Dublin,  April  22,  l/OJ.  His  fa- 
Literary  mid  Philosophical  Society  ther,  Edmund  Fielding,  Esq.  who 
of  Manchester.  He  also  distin-  was  a  younger  son  of  the  Earl  of 
guished  himself  some  years  ago  as  Denbigh,  was  in  the  army,  and 
a  detector  of  several  palpable  pla-  towards  the  close  of  King  Geo.  I.'s 
giarisms  in  the  writings  of  Sterne,  reign,  or  on  the  accession  of  Geo.  II. 
His  claim,  however,  to  a  niche  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  a 
in  our  literary  structure  is  founded  lieutenant-general.  His  mother 
on  the  following  piece  :  was  daughter  to  Judge  Gould,  and 

The  Prince  of  Angola.   T.    Svo.     aunt  to  the  late  Sir  Henry  Gould, 


1788. 

Field,  Matthew.  SeeFEiLDE. 
Field,  Nathaniel.     This  au- 


one  of  the  judges  of  the  Common 
Pleas.  This  lady,  besides  our  au- 
thor, who  seems  to  have  been  her 


thor  lived   in    the  reign  of  King    first-born,    had  another  son    and 
James  I.  and  King  Charles  I.  and,    four    daughters;    and,    in  conse- 


2.13 


F  I  E 

^uence  of  his  father's  second  mar- 
riage, Mr.  Fielding  had  six  half- 
brothers,  all  of  whom  are  dead ; 
the  last  survivor  having  been  the 
late  Sir  John  Fielding,  in  the  com- 
mission of  the  peace  for  the  coun- 
ties of  Middlesex,  Surrey,  Essex, 
and  the  liberties  of  Westminster. 

Our  author  received  l he  first 
rudiments  of  his  education  at  home, 
under  the  care  of  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Oliver;  for  whom  he  seems  to  have 
had  no  very  great  regard,  as  he  is 
said  to  have  designed  a  portrait  of 
fais  character  in  the  very  humorous 
yet  detestable  one  of  Parson  Trul- 
iiber,  \nh\s  Joseph  Andrews.  When 
soken  from  under  this  gentleman's 
charge,  he  was  removed  to  Eton 
School,  where  he  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  cultivating  a  very  early 
intimacy  and  friendship  with  se- 
veral, who  afterwards  became  the 
first  persons  in  the  kingdom,  such 
»5  Lord  LvtteUoi),  Mr.  Fox,  Mr. 
Pin,  Sir  Charles  Banbury  Wil- 
liams, &c.  who  ever  through  life 
retained  a  warm  regard  for  him. 
Hut  ihese  were  not  the  only  ad- 
vantages he  reaped  at  that  great 
seminary  of  education;  for,  by  an 
assiduous  application  to  study,  and 
the  possession  of  strong  and  pecu- 
liar talents,  he  became,  beiore  he 
left  that  school,  uncommonly  versed 
in  the  Greek  authors,  and  a  per- 
fect master  of  the  Latin  classics. 
Thus  accomplished,  at  about  eigh- 
teen years  of  age  he  left  Eton,  and 
went  to  Leyden,  where  he  studied 
under  the  most  celebrated  civilians 
for  about  two  years;  at  the  expi- 
ration of  which  time,  the  remit- 
tances from  England  not  coming 
so  regularly  as  at  first,  he  was 
obliged  to  return  to  London. 

In  short,  General  Fielding's  fa- 
mily being  very  greatly  increased 
by  his  second  marriage,  as  may  be 
§een  from  what  we  have  said  above,. 


F  I  E 

it  became  impossible  for  him  t& 
make  such  appointments  for  this 
his  eldest  son,  as  he  could  have 
wished  ;  his  allowance  was  there- 
fore either  very  ill  paid,  or  entirely 
neglected.  This  unhappy  situa- 
tion soon  produced  all  the  ill  con- 
sequences which  could  arise  from 
poverty  and  dissipation.  Possessed 
of  a  strong  constitution,  a  lively 
imagination,  and  a  disposition  na- 
turally but  little  formed  for  eco- 
nomy, he  found  himself  his  own 
master,  in  a  place  where  the  tempt- 
ations to  every  expensive  pleasure 
are  numerous,  and  the  means  of 
gratifying  them  easily  attainable. 
From  this  unfortunately  pleasing  si- 
tuation  sprang  the  source  of  every 
misfortune  or  uneasiness  that  Mr. 
Fielding  afterwards  felt  through 
life.  He  very  soon  found  that  his 
finances  were  by  no  means  ade- 
quate to  the  frequent  draughts 
made  on  him  from  the  conse- 
quences of  the  brisk  career  of  dis- 
sipation which  he  had  launched 
into;  yet,  as  disagreeable  impres- 
sions never  continued  long  upon 
his  mind,  but  only  on  the  contrary 
roused  him  to  struggle  through  his 
difficulties  with  the  greater  spirit 
and  magnanimity,  he  flattered 
himself  that  he  should  find  his 
resources  in  his  wit  and  invention, 
and  accordingly  commenced  writer 
for  the  stage  in  the  year  lJ-7>  at 
which  time  he  had  not  more  than 
attained  the  completion  of  his 
twentieth  year. 

His  first  attempt  in  the  drJrma 
was  a  piece  called  Love  in  several 
Masques.,  which,  though  it  imme- 
diately succeeded  the  long  aucj 
crowded  run  of  The  Provoked  Hus- 
band, met  with  a  favourable  re- 
ception ;  as  did  likewise  his  second 
play,  which  came  out  in  the  fol- 
lowing year,  and  was  entitled,  The 
Temple  Beau.     He  did  not,  haw- 


239 


F  I  E 

ever,  meet  with  equal  success  in 
all  his  dramatic  works  ;  for  be  has 
even  printed  in  the  title-page  of 
one  of  his  farce-;,  as  it  was  damned 
at  t '  1  <  aire  Rt  y  in  Di  urij  Lain- ; 
and  he  himself  informs  is,  in  the 
general  preface  to  hi.s  Miscellanies, 
that  for  The  Wedding  Day-,  though 
acted  six  nights,  his  profits  from 
the  house  did  not  exceed  fifty 
pounds.  Nor  did  a  much  better 
fate  attend  on  some  of  his  earlier 
productions;  so  that,  though  it  was 
his  lot  always  to  write  from  ne- 
cessity, he  would  probably,  not- 
withstanding his  writings,  have  la- 
boured continually  under  that  ne- 
cessity, had  not  the  severity  of  the 
public,  and  the  mniice  of  his  ene- 
mies, met  with  a  noble  alleviation 
from  the  patronage  of  several  per- 
sons of  distinguished  rank  and  cha- 
racter, particularly  the  Dukes  of 
Richmond  and  Roxburgh,  John 
Duke  of  Argyle,  the  first  Lord 
Lyttelton,  &c. ;  the  last-named  of 
which  noblemen,  not  only  by  his 
friendship  softened  the  rigour  of 
our  author's  misfortunes  while  he 
lived,  but  also  by  his  generous  ar- 
dour vindicated  his  character  and 
did  justice  to  his  memory  after 
death. 

About  six  or  seven  years  after 
Mr.  Fielding's  commencing  a  wri- 
ter for  the  stage,  he  fell  in  love 
with  and  married  a  Miss  Crad- 
dock,  a  young  lady  from  Salisbury, 
possessed  of  a  very  great  share  of 
beauty,  and  a  fortune  of  about 
fifteen  hundred  pounds;  and  about 
the  same  time  his  mother  dying, 
an  estate  atStower,  in  Dorsetshire, 
of  somewhat  better  than  two  hun- 
dred pounds  per  annum,  came  into 
his  possession.  With  this  fortune, 
which,  had  it  been  conducted  with 
prudence  and  economy,  might 
have  secured  to  him  a  state  of  in- 
dependence for  life,,  and  with  the 


F  I  E 

h^Ips  it  might  have  derived  front 
the  productions  of  a  genius  unin- 
cumbered with  anxieties  and  per- 
plexity, might  have  even  afforded 
him  an  affluent  income;  with  this, 
we  say,  and  a  wife  whom  he  was 
fond  of  to  distraction,  and  for 
whose  sake  he  had  taken  up  a  re- 
solution of  bidding  adieu  to  all  the 
follies  and  intemperances  to  which 
he  had  addicted  himself  in  that 
short  but  very  rapid  career  of  a 
town  life  which  he  had  run,  he 
determined  to  retire  to  his  coun- 
try-seat, and  there  reside  en- 
tirely. 

But  here,  in  spite  of  this  pru- 
dent resolution,  one  folly  only  took 
place  of  another;  and  family  pride 
now  brought  on  him  all  the  in- 
conveniencies  in  one  place,  that 
youthful  dissipation  and  libertinism 
had  done  in  another.  The  in- 
come he  possessed,  though  suffi- 
cient for  ease,  and  even  some  de- 
gree of  elegance,  yet  was  in  no 
degree  adequate  to  the  support  of 
either  luxury  or  splendour.  Yet, 
fond  of  figure  and  magnificence, 
he  incumbered  himself  with  a  large 
retinue  of  servants,  and  his  natu- 
ral turn  leading  him  to  a  fondness 
for  the  delights  of  society  and  con- 
vivial mirth,  he  threw  wide  open 
the  gates  of  hospitality,  and  suf- 
fered his  whole  patrimony  to  be 
devoured  np  by  hounds,  horses, 
and  entertainments.  In  short,  in 
less  than  three  years,  from  the 
mere  passion  of  being  esteemed  a 
man  of  great  fortune,  he  reduced 
himself  to  the  displeasing  situation 
of  having  no  fortune  at  all  ;  and 
through  an  ambition  of  maintain- 
ing an  open  house  for  the  reception 
of  every  one  else,  he  soon  found 
himself  without  a  habitation  which 
he  could  call  his  own.  In  a  word, 
by  a  desire,  as  Shakspeare  ex- 
presses it,  of 


240 


F  I  E 

"  Showing  somewhat  a  more  swelling 
port 

i'  Than  his  faint  means  would  grant  con- 
tinuance," 

be  was,  in  the  course  of  a  very 
short  period,  brought  back  to  the 
same  unfortunate  situation  which 
he  had  before  experienced ;  but 
with  this  aggravation  to  it,  that 
he  could  now  have  none  of  those 
resources  in  future  to  look  forward 
to,  which  he  had  thus  indiscreetly 
lavished.  He  had  undermined  his 
own  supports,  and  had  now  no- 
thing but  his  own  abilities  to  de- 
pend on  for  the  recovery  of  what 
he  had  so  wantonly  thrown  from 
him,  an  easy  competence.  Not 
discouraged,  however,  he  deter- 
mined to  exert  his  best  abilities, 
betook  himself  closely  to  the  study 
of  the  law,  and,  after  the  cus- 
tomary time  of  probation  at  the 
Temple,  was  called  to  the  bar,  and 
made  no  inconsiderable  figure  in 
Westminster  Hall. 

To  the  practice  of  the  law  Mr. 
Fielding  now  applied  himself  with 
great  assiduity,  both  in  the  courts 
here  and  on  the  circuits,  so  long 
as  his  health  p  him;   and 

it  is  probable  would  have  risen  to 
a  considerable  degree  of  eminence 
in  it,  had  not  the  intemperances 
of  his  early  part  of  life  put  a 
check,  by  their  consequences,  to 
the  progress  of  his  success.  In 
short,  though  but  a  young  man,  he 
began  now  to  be  molested  with 
such  violent  attacks  from  the  gout, 
as  rendered  it  impossible  for  him 
to  be  so  constant  at  the  bar  as  the 
laboriousness  of  his  profession  re- 
quired, and  would  only  permit 
him  to  pursue  the  law  by  snatches, 
at  such  intervals  as  were  free  from 
indisposition.  However,  under 
these  united  severities  of  pain  and 
want,  he 'still  found  resources  in 
his  genius  and  abilities.     He  was 


FIE 

concerned  in  a  political  periodical 
paper  called  The  Champion,  which 
owed  its  principal  support  to  his 
pen;  a  pen  which  seems  never  to 
have  lain  idle,  since  it  was  perpe- 
tually producing,  almost  as  it  were 
extempore,  a  play,  a  farce,  a  pam- 
phlet, or  a  newspaper,  but  whose 
full  exertion  of  power  seemed  re- 
served for  a  kind  of  writing  dif- 
ferent from,  and  indeed  superior 
to,  them  all ;   nor  will  it  perhaps 
be  necessary  in  proof  of  this,  n  ve 
than  to  mention  his  <  eiebrated  no- 
vels of  Joseph  Andrews  and  Tom 
Jones,  which  ate  too  well  known 
and  too  justly  admired  to  leave  us 
any  room  for  expatiating  on  their 
merits.      Precarious,  however,  as 
this  means  of  subsistence  unavoid- 
ably must  be,  it  was  scarcely  pos- 
siWe  he  should  be  enabled  by  it  to 
recover  his  shattered  fortunes;   he 
was  therefore  at  length  obliged  to 
accept  the  office  of  an  acting  ma- 
gistrate in  the  commission  of  the 
peace  for  the  county  of  Middlesex, 
in  which  station  he  continued  till 
pretty  near  the  time  of  his  death  ; 
an  office,  however,  which  seldom 
faili  of  being  hateful  to  the  popu- 
lace, and  of  course  liable  to  many 
infamous  and  unjust  imputations, 
particularly   that   of  venality ;    a 
charge  which  the  ill-natured  world, 
not  unacquainted  with  Mr.  Field- 
ing's want  of  economy  and  pas- 
sion  for  expense,    were   but   too 
ready  to  cast  upon  him.    Yet  from 
this   charge  Mr.  Murphy,    in    the 
life  of  this  author,  prefixed  to  the 
best  edition  of  his  works,  has  taken 
great  pains  to  exculpate  him;  as 
has  likewise  Mr.  Fielding  himself, 
in  his  Voyage  to  Lisbon,  which  was 
not  only  his  last  work,  but  may, 
with  some  degree  of  propriety,  be 
considered  as  the  last  words  of  a 
dying  man  ;    that  voyage  having 
been  undertaken  only  as  a  dernier 


241 


F  I  E 


resort  in  one  last  desperate  effort 
for  the  preservation  of  life,  and 
the  restoring  a  constitution  broken 
with  chagrin,  distress,  vexation,  and 
public  business ;  for  his  strength 
was  at  that  time  entirely  exhaust- 
ed, and,  in  about  two  months 
after  his  arrival  at  Lisbon,  he 
yielded  his  last  breath,  in  the 
forty-eighth  year  of  his  age,  and 
of  our  Lord  1754. 

Mr.  Fielding's  genius,  as  before 
observed,  was  most  visible  in 
those  strong,  lively,  and  natural 
paintings  of  the  characters  of  man- 
kind, and  the  movements  of  the 
human  heart,  which  constitute  the 
basis  of  his  novels  j  yet,  as  comedy 
bears  the  closest  affinity  to  this 
kind  of  writing,  his  dramatic 
pieces,  every  one  of  which  is  comic, 
are  far  from  being  contemptible. 
His  farces  and  ballad  pieces,  more 
especially,  have  a  sprightliness  of 
manner,  and  a  forcibleness  of  cha- 
racter, by  which  it  is  impossible  to 
avoid  being  agreeably  entertained ; 
and  in  those  among  them  which 
he  has  in  any  degree  borrowed 
from  Moliere  or  any  other  writer, 
he  has  done  his  original  great 
honour  and  justice  by  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  has  handled  the 
subject.  The  number  and  titles 
of  his  dramatic  works  are  as  fol- 
low: 

1.  Love  in  several  Masques.  C. 
8vo.  1728. 

2.  Temple  Beau.  C.  8vo.  1730. 

3.  Author's  Farce.  C.  8vo.  1730. 

4.  Tom  Thumb.    T.   8vo.l730. 

5.  Coffee-house  Politician  [ori- 
ginally called  Rape  upon  Rape] .  C. 
8vo.  1730. 

6.  The  Tragedy  of  Tragedies. 
8vo.  1731. 

7.  Letter  Writers.  F.  8vo.  1731. 

8.  Grub-street  Opera.  8vo.l731. 

9.  Lottery.    Bal. F.    8vo.l731. 
.  vol.  i. 


F  I  £ 

10.  Modern  Husband.  C.  8vO. 
1732. 

11.  Mock  Doctor.  B.  F.  Svo. 
1732. 

12.  Covent  Garden  Tragedy.  F. 
Svo.  1732. 

13.  Debauchees.    C.   8vo.  1733. 

14.  Miser.     C.     8vo.  1733. 

15.  Don  Quixote  in  Englafid.  C. 
Svo.  1/33. 

16.  Intriguing  Chambermaid.  C. 
8vo.  1734. 

17.  Old  Man  taught  Wisdom. 
F.     8vo.  1734. 

18.  The  Universal  Gallant.  C. 
8vo.  1735. 

19.  Enridice.     F.     8vo.  1735. 

20.  Pasquin.  Dram.  Sat.  8vo. 
1736. 

21.  Historical  Register.  C.  8vo, 
[1737.] 

22.  Euridice  hiss'd.  F.  8vo„ 
1737. 

23  Tumble-down  Dick.  D.  E. 
8vo.  1737. 

24.  Miss  Lucy  in  Town.  F, 
8vo,  1742. 

25.  F lulus  the  God  of  Riclies. 
C.  Assisted  by  Mr.  Youncr-  Svo. 
1742. 

26.  Wedding  Day.  C.  Svo. 
1/43. 

27-  Interlude  between  Jupiter, 
Juno,  and  Mercury.     Svo.  1743. 

28.  The  Fathers  ;  or,  The  Good- 
natured  Man.     C.     Svo.  1778. 

As  to  Mr.  Fielding's  character 
as  a  man,  it  may  in  grear  measure 
be  deduced  from  the  incidents  we 
have  above  related  of  his  life ;  but 
cannot  perhaps  be  with  more  can- 
dour set  forth  than  by  his  biogra- 
pher Mr.  Murphy,  with  some  of 
whose  words  therefore  we  shall 
close  this  article. 

"  It  will  be  (says  that  gentle- 
"  man)  an  humane  and  generous 
"  office,  to  set  down  to  the  ac- 
"  count  of  slander  and  defamation 

R 


242 


F  I  E 


F  I  N 


a  great  part  of  that  abuse  which 
was  discharged  against  him  by 
his  enemies  in  his  lifetime;  de- 
ducing, however,  from  the  whole 
this  useful  lesson,  that  quick  and 
warm  passions  should   be  early 
controlled,    and   that  dissipation 
and  extravagant  pleasures  are  the 
most  dangerous  palliations  that  can 
be  found  for  disappointments  and 
vexations    in  the  first  stages   of 
life.     We  have  seen   (adds  he) 
how    Mr.   Fielding    very   soon 
squandered  away  his  small  pa- 
trimony, which,  with  economy, 
'  might  have  procured  him  inde- 
pendence ; — we  have  seen  how 
he  ruined,  into  the  bargain,  a 
constitution  which,  in  its  original 
:  texture,  seemed  formed  to  last 
much  longer.  When  illness  and 
indigence  were  once  let  in  upon 
him,  he  no  longer  remained  the 
'•  master  of  his  own  actions;  and 
'■  that  nice  delicacy  of  conduct, 
:  which  alone  constitutes  and  pre- 
'  serves  a  character,  was  occasion- 
'  ally  obliged  to  give  way.  When 
he  was  not  under  the  immediate 
'  urgency  of  want,  those  who  were 
'  intimate  with  him  are  ready  to 
:  aver,  that  he  had  a  mind  greatly 
'■  superior  to  any  thing  mean  or 
:  little ;  when  his  finances  were 
'  exhausted,  he  was  not  the  most 
'  elegant   in   his   choice   of    the 
'  means   to  redress   himself,  and 
'  he  would  instantly  exhibit  a  farce 
'  or  a  puppet-show,  in  the  Hay- 
:  market  theatre,  which  was  wholly 
'•  inconsistent  with  the  profession 
he  had  embarked  in.     But  his 
'  intimates  are  witness  how  much 
'  his  pride  suffered  when  he  was 
'  forced   into    measures    of    this 
r  kind;  no  man  having  a  juster 
sense  of  propriety,  or  more  ho- 
nourable ideas  of  the  employ- 
ment of  an  author  and  a  scho- 
'  lar." 


Fielding,  Sarah.  This  lady 
was  sister  to  Henry  Fielding.  She 
was  author  of  David  Simple,  and 
several  novels,  and  translator  of 
Xenophon's  Memorabilia.  She  was 
born  in  the  year  1714,  and  lived 
chiefly  at  Bath,  where  she  died  in 
April  1/68.  Her  friend  Dr.  John 
Hoadly,  who  erected  a  monument 
to  her  memory,  says, 

"  Her  unaffected  manners,  candid  mind, 
"  Herheart  benevolent,  and  soul  resisrn'd; 
"  Were  more  her  praise  than   all  she 

knew  or  thought, 
"  Though  Athens'  wisdom  to  her  sex  she 

taught." 

She  has  been  generally  thought 
to  have  been  the  author  of  a  dra- 
matic fable,  printed  in  three  vo- 
lumes 12mo.  1754,  called 

The  Cry. 
But    see   this  article  in  Vol.  II. 
p.  145. 

Filmer,  Edward.  This  gen- 
tleman was  bred  at  All  Souls  Col- 
lege, Oxford,  where  he  took  the 
degree  of  B.  C.  L.  Feb.  21,  16/5, 
and  of  D.  C.  L.  Oct.  27,  1681. 
He  was  ever  a  strong  advocate  for 
dramatic  writings,  which,  together 
with  the  professors  of  dramatic 
poetry,  he  has  warmly  defended 
against  their  furious  enemy  and 
opponent  Jeremy  Collier.  In  the 
decline  of  his  life  he  produced  a 
play,  which,  though  it  bears  strong 
testimony  to  the  understanding  and 
abilities  of  the  author,  yet  failed  of 
success  on  the  stage,  for  the  want 
of  that  force  and  fire  which  it  is 
probable  the  Doctor,  in  a  less  ad- 
vanced time  of  life,  would  have 
been  able  to  have  bestowed  on  it. 
The  piece  is  entitled 

The  Unnatural  Brother.  T.  4to. 

1697. 

Finch,  Anne,  Countess  of 
Winchilsea.  This  lady  was 
daughter  of  Sir  William  Kingsmill» 
of  Sidmonton,  in  the  county  of 


243 


F  I  S 

Southampton,  Knight. 


She  was 
maid  ot"  honour  to  the  second 
Dutchess  of  the  Duke  of  York,  af- 
terwards King  James  II. ;  married 
Heneage,  second  son  of  Heneage, 
Earl  of  Winchilsea,  by  Lady  Mary, 
second  daughter  of  William  Sey- 
mour, Duke  of  Somerset ;  which 
Heneage  was,  in  his  father's  life- 
time, gentleman  of  the  bedcham- 
ber to  the  Duke  of  York;  and 
afterwards,  upon  the  death  of  his 
nephew  Charles,  succeeded  him  in 
the  title  of  Earl  of  Winchilsea. 
This  lady  died  on  the  5th  day  of 
August  1720,  having,  in  the  year 
1713,  published  a  collection  of  her 
poems  in  8vo.  among  which  is 

Aristomenes.     T. 
It  is  said  that  many  of  her  poems 
still  remain  in  MS. 

Finney, .     To  a  writer  of 

this  name  in  The  Morning  Herald, 
and  other  newspapers,  is  ascribed 
The  Green  Room.     Prel.     1/83. 
N.  P. 

Fishbourne,  Mr.  This  gen- 
tleman belonged  to  the  inns  of 
court,  and  is  only  mentioned  here 
by  way  of  perpetuating  that  infamy 
which  he  has  justly  incurred,  by 
being  known  to  be  the  author  of  a 
dramatic  piece,  entitled 

Sodom. 
This  play  is  so  extremely  obscene, 
and  beyond  all  bounds  indecent 
and  immoral,  that  even  the  Earl  of 
Rochester,  whose  libertinism  was 
so  professed  and  open,  and  who 
scarcely  knew  what  the  sense  of 
shame  was,  could  not  bear  to  un- 
dergo the  imputation  of  being  the 
author  of  this  piece  (which,  in 
order  to  make  it  sell,  was  pub- 
lished with  initial  letters  in  the 
title,  intended  to  misguide  the 
opinion  of  the  public,  and  induce 
them  to  fix  it  on  that  nobleman), 
and  published  a  copy  of  verses  to 
disclaim  his  having  had  any  share 


F  L  E 

in  the  composition :  nor  has  it 
indeed  any  spark  of  resemblance 
to  Lord  Rochester's  wit,  could  that 
even  have  atoned  (which,  however, 
it  could  by  no  means  have  done)  for 
the  abominable  obscenity  of  it.  To 
such  lengths  did  the  license  of  that 
court  induce  persons  to  imagine- 
they  might  proceed  in  vice  with 
full  impunity. 

Fisher,  Dr.  Jasper,  was  a 
gentleman's  son,  born  in  Bedford- 
shire, and  entered  a  commoner  of 
Magdalen  Hall  in  lO'O/.  He  af- 
terwards took  the  degrees  in  arts, 
became  divinity  or  phi!  n  ■  l . •  1  v*  read- 
er of  Magdalen  College,  rector  of 
Wilden,  Bedfordshire,  about  1631  j 
and  at  length  doctor  of  divinity. 
Oldys,  in  his  manuscript  notes  on  ' 
Langbaine,  says  he  was  blind.  He 
published  some  sermons,  and  one 
play,  called 

Fumnis  Troes,  the  true  Trojans. 
Hist.  Play.     4to.  1633. 

Fisher,  — — — .  To  a  person  of 
this  name  has  been  ascribed  the 
following  drama  : 

The  School  for  Ingratitude.  C. 
Svo.  N.D.  [V98.] 

Fitzgerald,  M.  Of  this  gen- 
tleman we  know  no  more  than 
that  he  is  mentioned  as  the  author 
of  a  play  acted  in  Dublin,  called 
Elwina.  T.  1792. 
Fitzgerald,  Preston,  hag 
published 

The  Spaniard  and  Siorlamh.  T. 
Svo.  IS  10. 

Flecknoe,  Richard.  This 
writer  lived  in  the  reign  of  King 
Charles  II.  He  is  said  to  have 
been  originally  a  Jesuit,  and,  in 
consequence  of  that  profession,  to 
have  had  connexions  with  most  of 
the  persons  of  distinction  in  Lon- 
don, who  were  of  the  Roman  Ca- 
tholic persuasion.  The  character, 
that  Langbaine  gives  of  him  is^ 
that  his  acquaintance  with  the 
B  2 


244 


F  L  E 


F  L  E 


nobility  was  more  than  with  the  of  Mr.  Flecknoe,  and  his  having 
Muses,  and  that  he  had  a  greater  printed  to  his  dramatis  persona 
propensity  to  rhyming  than  genius  the  names  of  the  actors  by  whom 
for  poetry.  he  had  intended  the  several  parts 

He  wrote  many  things  both  in  to  be  performed,  in  order,  as  he 
prose  and  verse,  more  especially  says,  "  that  the  reader  might  have 
the  latter,  and  has  left  behind  him    **  half  the  pleasure  of  seeing  it 

"  acted,"  it  is   probable  that  he 
and  his  works  might  have  sunk  to- 
gether into  absolute  oblivion,  had 
not   the   resentment  of   a   much 
greater  poet  against  him,  we  mean 
Mr.  Dryden,  doomed  him  to  a  dif- 
ferent kind  of  immortality  from 
that  which  he  aimed  at,  by  giving 
his  name  to  one  of  the  severest 
satires   he    ever    wrote,    viz.  his 
Mac    Flecknoe,     which,     though 
pointed   at  Shadwell,  has  never- 
theless some  severe  strokes  upon 
C.    our  author,  which,  together  with 
the  title  of  the  poem  itself,  will 
preserve  his  memory,  and,  as  he 
himself  proposed  by  the  publica- 
tion of  his  own  works,  "  continue 
"  his  name  to  posterity,"  so  long 
as  the  writings  of  that  admirable 


five  dramatic  pieces,  only  one  of 
which  ('Loves  Kingdom)  he  could 
ever  obtain  the  favour  of  having 
acted,  and  that  met  with  but  in- 
different success.    Their  titles  are, 

1.  Love's  Dominion.  D.P.  12mo. 
1654. 

2.  Marriage  of  Oceanus  and  Bri- 
tannia. Allegorical  Fiction.  12mo. 
1659. 

3.  Erminia.    T.  C.    4to.  l66l. 

4.  Love's  Kingdom.  Past.  Tr.- 
Com.     12mo.  lt>64. 

5.  Damoiselles  a-la-Mode. 
12mo.  1667. 

The  author,  however,  wrapped 
up  in  his  own  self-opinion,  has 
carried  off  this  disappointment  in 
a  manner  extremely  cavalier,  and 
almost  peculiar  to  himself;  for,  in 


the  preface  to  his  Damoiselles  u-la-  poet  continue  to  be  read. 

Mode,  which  had  been  refused  by  Fleming,  Robert,  Jun.  V.  D. 

the  players,  he  has  these  very  re-  M.    Of  this  writer  we  can  give  no 

markable  words  :  "  For  the  act-  account.     He  published  a  volume 

"  ing  this  comedy  (says  he),  those  of  religious   poetry,   entitled  The 

"  who  have  the  government  of  the  Mirrour   of  Divine   Love   unveil- 


,(  stage  have  their  humour,  and 
**  would  be  entreated  ;  and  I  have 
"  mine,  and  won't  entreat  them ; 
"  and  were  all  dramatic  writers  of 
"  my  mind,  they  should  wear  their 
"  old  plays  threadbare  ere  they 
"  should  have  any  new,  till  they 
"  better  understood  their  own  in- 
"  terest,  and  how  to  distinguish 
**  between  good  and  bad."  The 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  in  his  Re- 
hearsal, seems  to  have  kept  this 


ed.     Svo.   1691.  in  which  is  con- 
tained 

The  Monarchical  Image;  or,  Ne- 
buchadnezzar's Dream.     D.  P. 

Fletcher,  John.  See  Beau- 
mont,  Francis. 

Fletcher,  Phineas.  This 
learned  writer  was  the  son  of  Giles 
Fletcher,  doctor  of  the  civil  law, 
and  ambassador  from  Queen  Eliza- 
beth to  Theodore  Ivanowich,  Duke 
of  Muscovy ;  and  nephew  toBishop 


passage  strongly  in  his  eye,  in  the  Fletcher,  father  of  the  celebrated 

anger  he  has    put    into  Bayes's  John  Fletcher,  the  dramatic  poet, 

mouth  when  the  players  were  gone  He  was  educated  at  Eton,  and  in 

to  dinner.      However,    notwith-  16OO  was  sent  to  King's  College, 

standing  aH  this  important  bluster  Cambridge,    where  he   took  th* 


245 


F  L  E 

degrees  of  A.  B.  in  JfiO-t,  and 
A.  M.  in  1608.  He  afterwards 
entered  into  holy  orders,  and  pos- 
sessed the  living  of  Hilgay,  in 
Norfolk,  where  he  died  in  l64g. 
He  is  an  author  whose  fame  is  not 
equal  to  his  merit,  having  written 
several  pieces,  as  The  Purple  Island, 
Piscatory  Eclogues,  Locustce,  and 
other  works,  which  deserve  to  be 
better  known  than  they  are  at  pre- 
sent. He  hath  produced  one  drama, 
entitled 

Sicelides.     Piscat.,    4to.  1631 . 
Mr.  Headley  remarks  of  this  au- 
thor, that  "  the  five  first  cantos  of 
The  Purple  Islayid  are  almost  en- 
tirely taken  up  with  an  expla- 
'  nation  of  the  title  ;  in  the  course 
f  of  which  the  reader  forgets  the 

•  poet,  and  is  sickened  with  the 
'  anatomist.  Such  minute  atten- 
'  tion  to  this  part  of  the  subject 
'  was  a  material  error  in  judg- 
'  ment  ;  for  which,  however, 
'  ample  amends  is  made  in  what 
f  follows.    Nor  is  Fletcher  wholly 

*  undeserving  of  praise  for  the 
'  intelligibility  with  which  he  has 
'  struggled  through  his  difficulties, 
'  for  his  uncommon  command  of 
'  words,  and  facility  of  metre. 
'*  After  describing  the  body,  he 
'  proceeds   to  personify  the  pas- 

*  sions  and  intellectual  faculties. 
'  Here  fatigued  attention   is  not 

merely  relieved,  but  fascinated 
'  and  enraptured  ;  and,  notwith- 
'  standing  his  figures,  in  many 
'  instances,  are  too  arbitrary  and 
'  fantastic  in  their  habiliments, 
'  often  disproportioned  and  over- 
'  done,  sometimes  lost  in  a  super- 
'  fiuity  of  glaring  colours,  and 
'  the  several  characters,  in  general, 
f  by  no  means  sufficiently  kept 
'  apart  5  yet,  amid  such  a  pro- 
'  fusion  of  images,  many  are  dis- 
'  tinguished  by  a  boldness  of  out- 
'■'  line,    a  majesty  of  manner,  a 


F  O  O 


"  brilliancy  of  colouring,  a  dis- 
"  tinctness  and  propriety  of  attri- 
"  bute,  and  an  air  of  life,  that  we 
"  look  for  in  vain  in  modern  pro- 
"  ductions,  and  that  rival,  if  not 
"  surpass,  what  we  meet  with  of 
"  the  kind  even  in  Spenser,  from 
"  whom  our  author  caught  his 
"  inspiration.  After  exerting  his 
"  creative  powers  on  this  depart- 
"  ment  of  his  subject,  the  Virtues 
"  and  better  qualities  of  the  heart, 
"  under  their  leader  Eclecta,  or 
"  Intellect,  are  attacked  by  the 
"  Vices  :  a  battle  ensues,  and  the 
"  latter  are  vanquished,  after  a 
"  vigorous  opposition,  through  the 
"  interference  of  an  angel,  who 
'-*  appears  at  the  prayers  of  Eclecta, 
"  The  poet  here  abruptly  takes 
"  an  opportunity  of  paying  a  fuU 
"  some  and  unpardonable  compli- 
"  ment  to  James  the  First  (stanza 
"  55,  canto  12)  ;  on  that  account, 
"  perhaps,  the  most  unpalatable 
"  passage  in  the  book.  From 
"  Fletcher's  dedication  of  this  his 
"  poem,  with  his  Piscatory  Ec- 
"  logues,  and  Miscellanies,  to  his 
"  friend  Edmund  Benlowes,  it 
"  seems,  that  they  were  written 
"  very  early,  as  he  calls  them 
"  *  raw  essays  of  my  very  unripe 
"  years,  and  almost  childhood.' 
"  It  is  to  his  honour  that  Milton 
"  read  and  imitated  him,  as  every 
"  attentive  reader  of  both  poets 
"  must  soon  discover.  He  is  emi- 
"  nently  entitled  to  a  very  high 
"  rank  among  our  old  English 
"  classics."  j 

Foote,  Samuel.  This  well- 
known  author  was  born  at  Truro, 
in  Cornwall,  but  in  what  year  we 
know  not.  His  father,  John  Foote, 
enjoyed  the  posts  of  commissioner 
of  the  prize-office  and  fine  con- 
tract. His  mother  was  heiress  of 
the  Dineley  and  Goodere  families  j 
and  to  her,  in  consequence  of  an. 
R  3 


246 


F  O  O 

unhappy  and  fatal  quarrel  between 
her  two  brothers,  Sir  John  Dineley 
Goodere,  Bart,  and  Samuel  Good- 
ere, Esq.  captain  of  His  Majesty's 
ship  the  Ruby,  which  terminated 
in   the   loss  of   life   to  both,  the 
Dineley  estate,  which  was  of  great 
value,  descended.    He  received  his 
education    at  Worcester   College, 
formerly  Gloucester  Hall,  Oxford, 
which  owed   its   foundation    and 
change  of  name  to   Sir  Thomas 
Cocks  Winford,    Bart,    a   second 
cousin  of  our  author's.     From  the 
university  he  was  removed  to  the 
Temple,   being  designed   for  the 
study  of  the  law  ;  in  which   it  is 
most  probable  that  his  great  ora- 
torical talents,  and  powers  of  mi- 
xnickry  and  humour,  wouk'  have 
shown   themselves  in  a  very  con- 
spicuous light.     The  dryness  and 
gravity  of  this  study,  however,  not 
suiting  the  more  volatile  vivacity 
of  his  disposition,  he  chose  rather 
to  employ  those  talents  in  a  sphere 
of  action   to  which    they  seemed 
better  adapted,  viz.  on  the  stage; 
in  the  pursuit  of  which  the  repeat- 
ed proofs  he  received  of  the  pub- 
lic approbation  bear  the  strongest 
testimonials  to  his  merit.    His  first 
appearance   was   in    the    part    of 
Othello  ;  but  whether  he  early  dis- 
covered that  his  forte  did  not  lie  in 
tragedy,  or  that  his  genius  could 
not  bear  the  being  only  a  repeater 
of  the  works  of  others,  he  soon 
struck  out  into  a  new  and  untrod- 
den path,  in  which  he  at  once  at- 
tained the  two  great  ends  of  af- 
fording entertainment  to  the  pub- 
lic   and    emolument    to    himself. 
This  was  by  taking  upon  him  the 
double   character   of   author   and 
performer;  ia  which  light,  in  1/4/, 
lie  opened  the  Little  Theatre  in  the 
Haymarket  with  a  dramatic  piece, 
of  his  own    writing,    called   The 
Inversions  of  the  Morning.    This 


F  O  O 

piece  consisted  of  nothing  more 
than  the  introduction  of  several 
well-known  characters  in  real  life, 
whose  manner  of  conversation  and 
expression  this  author  had  very 
happily  hit  in  the  diction  of  his 
drama,  and  still  more  happily  re* 
presented  on  the  stage  by  an  exact 
and  most  amazing  imitation,  not 
only  of  the  manner  and  tone  of 
voice,  but  even  of  the  very  per- 
sons, of  those  whom  he  intended  to 
take  off.  Among  these  characters 
there  was  in  particular  a  certain 
physician,  who  was  much  better 
known  from  the  oddity  and  singu- 
larity of  his  appearance  and  con- 
versation, than  from  his  eminence 
in  the  practice  of  his  profession. 
The  celebrated  Chevalier  Taylor, 
the  oculist,  who  was  at  that  time 
in  the  height  of  his  vogue  and 
popularity,  was  also  another  object 
of  Mr.  Foote's  mimickry  and  ridi- 
cule ;  and  in  the  latter  part  of  his 
piece,  under  the  character  of  a 
theatrical  director,  this  gentleman 
took  off,  with  great  humour  and 
accuracy,  the  several  styles  of  act- 
ing of  every  principal  performer  of 
the  English  stage. 

This  performance  at  first  met 
with  some  little  opposition  from 
the  civil  magistrates  of  Westmin- 
ster, under  the  sanction  of  the  act 
of  parliament  for  limiting  the 
number  of  playhouses.  But  the 
author  being  patronized  by  many 
of  the  principal  nobility  and  others, 
this  opposition  was  over-ruled  .and, 
with  an  alteration  of  the  title  of 
his  piece  to  that  of  Mr.  Foote's 
giving  Tea  to  his  Friends,  he  pro- 
ceeded without  further  molesta- 
tion, and  represented  it  through 
a  run  of  upwards  of  forty  morn- 
ings, to  crowded  and  splendid  au- 
diences. 

The  ensuing  season  he  produced 
another  piece  of  the  same  kind , 


247 


F  O  O 


which  he  called  An  Auction  of 
Pictures.  In  this  he  introduced 
several  new  characters,  all,  how- 
ever, popular  ones,  and  extremely 
well  known  ;  particularly  Sir  Tho- 
mas De  Veil,  then  the  acting  justice 
of  peace  for  Westminster ;  Mr. 
Cock,  the  celebrated  auctioneer; 
and  the  equally  famous  orator  Hen- 
ley. This  piece  had  also  a  very 
great  run. 

Neither  of  the  above-mentioned 
pieces  were  printed  by  their  au- 
thor ;  but  Mr.  Tate  -Wilkinson,  in 
his  Wandering  Patentee,  12mo. 
1/95,  has  published  The  Diversions 
of  the  Morning.  Such  performances, 
however,  consisting  principally 
of  characters  whose  peculiar  sin- 
gularities could  never  be  perfectly 
represented  in  black  and  white, 
must  appear  flat  and  insipid,  when 
divested  of  that  strong  colouring 
which  Mr.  Foote  had  given  them 
in  his  personal  representation ;  for 
it  may  not  be  improper  to  observe 
in  this  place,  that  he  himself  re- 
presented all  the  principal  charac- 
ters in  each  piece,  which  stood  in 
need  of  his  mimic  powers  to  exe- 
cute, shifting  from  one  to  another 
with  all  the  dexterity  of  a  Proteus. 
He  now,  however,  proceeded  to 
pieces  of  somewhat  more  drama- 
tic regularity,  his  Knights  being 
the  produce  of  an  ensuing  season. 
Yet  in  this  also,  though  his  plot 
and  characters  seemed  less  imme- 
diately personal,  it  was  apparent 
that  he  kept  some  particular  real 
personages  strongly  in  his  eye  in 
the  performance,  and  the  town 
took  on  themselves  to  fix  them 
where  the  resemblance  appeared 
to  be  the  most  striking.  It  would 
be  superfluous  in  this  place  to 
enumerate  the  course  of  this  gen- 
tleman's dramatic  progress  as  to 
all  the  respective  pieces  which  he 
afterwards  wrote  and  performed, 


F  O  O 

as  a  particular  account  of  each  of 
them  may  be  seen,  under  its  pro- 
per head,  in  the  second  and  third 
volumes  of  this  work.  Let  it  here 
suffice,  therefore,  to  observe,  that 
he  continued  from  time  to  time 
t©  entertain  the  public,  by  select- 
ing for  their  use  such  characters, 
as  well  general  as  individual,  as 
seemed  most  likely  to  contribute 
to  the  exciting  of  innocent  laugh- 
ter, and  best  answer  the  principal 
end  of  dramatic  writings  of  the 
comic  kind,  viz.  the  relaxation 
of  the  mind  from  the  fatigue  of 
business  or  anxiety. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  his 
performances : 

1 .  An  Auction  of  Pictures.  Dr. 
Piece.     1748.     N.  P. 

2.  Taste.     C.     Svo.  1752. 

3.  The  Englishman  in  Paris.  C. 
Svo.  1753. 

4.  The  Knights.  Com.  Svo. 
1754. 

5.  The  Englishman  returnedfrom 
Paris.     C.  ^8vo.  1756. 

6.  The  Author.     C.    8vo.  1 757. 

7.  The  Minor.     C.    Svo.  1760. 

8.  The  Orators.    C.    Svo.  1762. 

9.  The  Lyar.  C.  1762.  Printed 
Svo.  170'4. 

10.  The  Mayor  of  Garret.  C. 
Svo.  1764. 

11.  The  Patron.  C.  Svo.  1764. 

12.  The  Commissary .  C,  8vo. 
1765. 

13.  Prelude,  on  opening  the 
Theatre,  1767,  Printed  in  The 
Monthly  Mirror,  vol.  xvii. 

14.  The  Lame  Lover.  C.  8vo, 
17/0. 

15.  Piety  in  Pattens.  Sent.  C. 
1773.     N.  P. 

16.  The  Bankrupt.  C.  8vo. 
1776. 

17.  The  Devil  upon  Two  Sticks. 
C.  176S.     Printed  Svo.  1/78. 

18.  The  Maid  of  Bath.  C.  J771. 
Printed  Svo.  1778. 

a  4 


248 


lg.  The 
Printed  8vo, 

20.  The 
Printe.1  ovo 


F  O  O 

Nabob. 
17/S. 
Cozeners. 
1/78. 


21.  rAe  Capuchin. 
Printed  8vo.  )778- 

22.  ^  Tri/>  ;o  Calais 

1773. 
23. 

1795. 

24. 


c. 
c. 
c. 


1772. 
1774. 
1776. 

C.    8vo. 


The  Tryal  of  Samuel  Foole, 
F.    1763.      Printed    12mo. 

Diversions  of  the  Morning. 
1747,   1758.       12mo. 


Dr.  Piece, 
1795. 

25.  Lindamira.  Burlesque.  Svo. 
1805. 

26.  The  Slanderer.  C.  Unfi- 
nished.   Left  in  MS. 

Besides  these  pieces,  Mr.  Foote 
suffered  his  name  to  be  put  to  a 
work,  entitled  The  Comic  Theatre, 
in  5  vols.  12mo.  1762;  being  a 
translation  of  a  number  of  French 
comedies.  Of  these,  however,  we 
are  assured  the  first  only,  viz.  The 
Young  Hypocrite,  is  to  be  ascribed 
to  him. 

The  following  is  the  list  of  them : 
Vol.  1.  The  Young  Hypocrite. 
The  Spendthrift. 
The  Triple  Marriage. 
Vol.  2.  Tiie  I.naginary  Obstacle. 
The  Sisters. 

The    Lilertine  ;     or,     The 
Hidden  Treasure. 
Vol.  3.  The  Legacy  ;  or,  The  For- 
tune Hunter. 
The  Generous  Artifice ;  or, 

The  reformed  Rake. 
The  Whimsical  Lovers;  or, 
The.  Doiille  Infidelity. 
Vol.  4.  The  Blunderer. 

The  Amorous  Quarrel. 
The  Conceited  Ladies. 
The  Forced  Marriage. 
Vol.5.  The  Man  Hater. 

The  Faggot- binder ;  or,  The 

Mock  Doctor. 
The  Gentleman  Cit. 
To  proceed  with  Mr.  Foote's 


F  O  O 

history.     From  the   year  1/52  to 
176I,  he  continued  to  perform  at 
one  of  the  theatres  every  season, 
as  fancy  or   interest  directed  his 
choice,  generally  for  a  stated  num- 
ber of  nights ;  and  on  these  en- 
gagements he  u-ually  brought  out 
a      -w  piece.     In  this  course  he 
went  on  until  a  very  pressing  em- 
barrassment   in    his   affairs    com- 
pelled him  to  perform  The  Minor  at 
the  Ha}  market,  in  the  summer  of 
the  year  176O,  with  such  a  com- 
pany as  he  could  hastily  collect. 
The  success  of  this  attempt  seems 
to    have    suggested    to    him    the 
scheme  of  occupying  that  theatre 
when  the  others  were  shut  up  j 
and  from  the  year  1762,  until  the 
season  before  his  death,  he  regu- 
larly  performed    there,    and   ac- 
quired a  very  considerable  income, 
which,  as  economy  was  not  to  be 
numbered  among  his  excellencies, 
he  generally  expended  in  the  grati- 
fication   equally  of  his  vices  and 
virtues,  being  at   times  both   ge- 
nerous and  extravagant.     In  Fe- 
bruary 1766,  he  had  the  misfor- 
tune to  fall  from  his  horse  while 
at  Lord  Mexborough's  seat  in  the, 
country  on  a  visit,  when  the  Duke 
of  York  also  was  there.     By  this 
accident  he  lost  his  leg ;  but  it  is 
generally  supposed  that  it  facili- 
tated his  application  for  a  patent, 
which  he  obtained  on  the  Qih  of 
July  in  the  same  year.    As  he  was 
ever  attentive  to  such  temporary 
circumstances  as  would  afford  sub- 
jects of  ridicule,  so  he  was  not  at 
all  scrupulous  whom  he  offended  in 
his  satirical  career.     In  177*5,  he 
drew  a  character  intended  for  a 
lady  of  quality  then  much  talked 
of,  who  had  influence  enough  to 
obtain  a  prohibition  to  his  play  be- 
ing represented  ;  and  in  the  con- 
troversy which   this  incident   oc- 
casioned  some  imputations  were 


249 


F  O  O 


F  O  O 


thrown  out  against  his  character 
too  gross  to  be  recorded,  and  of 
too  vile  a  nature  to  be  believed 
without  the  clearest  evidence. 
This  dispute  had  hardly  subsided, 
when  a  legal  charge  was  made 
against  him  for  an  offence  similar 
to  that  before  alluded  to ;  and  it  is 
but  justice  to  his  memory  to  de- 
clare, that  the  accusation  was  ge- 
nerally supposed  to  have  originat- 
ed in  malice,  and  that  he  was 
acquitted  by  the  „  direction,  and 
agreeable  to  the  sentiments,  of  the 
judge  who  tried  him,  after  a  very 
long  and  strict  investigation  of  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  affair. 
The  shock,  however,  which  he  re- 
ceived from  tliis  disgraceful  situa- 
tion is  supposed  to  have  had  a  fatal 
effect  upon  him.  A  few  months 
afterwards  he  was  seized,  while 
on  the  stage,  with  a  paralytic  fit, 
from  which  he  recovered  suffi- 
ciently to  spend  the  summer  at 
Brighthelmsione,and  from  thence, 
on  the  approach  of  winter,  was 
advised  to  remove  to  France.  On 
the  20th  of  October  1777,  he  ar- 
rived at  Dover,  intending  imme- 
diately to  proceed  to  Calais.  But 
about  eleven  o'clock  next  morn- 
ing he  complained  of  a  shivering, 
and  went  to  bed,  where  he  was 
seized  with  another  fit,  which  lasted 
three  hours ;  after  it  was  over  he 
lay  very  composed,  and  seemed  in- 
clined to  sleep ;  in  a  few  minutes 
he  began  to  breathe  in  a  moaning 
tone,  and  at  length  fetched  a  deep 
sigh,  and  expired.  He  was  buried 
in  Westminster  Abbey. 

Mr.  Foote's  dramatic  works  are 
all  to  be  ranked  among  the  petite 
pieces  of  the  theatre,  as  he  never 
attempted  any  thing  which  at- 
tained the  bulk  of  the  more  perfect 
drama.  In  the  execution  of  them 
they  are  sometimes  loose,  negli- 
gent, and  unfinished,  seeming  ra- 


ther to  be  the  hasty  productions  of 
a  man  of  genius,  whose  Pegasus, 
though  endued  with  fire,  has  no 
inclination  for  fatigue,  than  the 
laboured  finishings  of  a  professed 
dramatist  aiming  at  immortality. 
His  plots  are  somewhat  irregular, 
and  their  catastrophes  not  always 
conclusive,  or  perfectly  wound  up. 
Yet,  with  all  these  little  deficien- 
cies, it  must  be  confessed  thaf 
they  contain  more  of  one  essential 
property  of  comedy,  viz.  strong 
character,  than  the  writings  of  any 
other  of  our  modern  authors  j  and 
although  the  diction  of  his  dialogue 
may  not,  from  the  general  tenour 
of  his  subjects,  either  require,  or 
admit  of,  the  wit  of  a  Congreve,  or 
the  elegance  of  an  Etherege,  yet 
it  is  constantly  embellished  with 
numberless  strokes  of  keen  satire, 
and  touches  of  temporary  humour, 
such  as  only  the  clearest  judgment 
and  deepest  discernment  could  dic- 
tate j  and  though  the  language 
spoken  by  his  characters  may  at 
first  sight  seem  not  the  most  accu- 
rate and  correct,  yet  it  will,  on  a 
closer  examination,  be  found  en- 
tirely dramatical ;  as  it  contains 
numbers  of  those  natural  minutiae 
of  expression,  on  which  the  very 
basis  of  character  is  frequently 
founded,  and  which  render  it  the 
truest  mirror  of  the  conversation 
of  the  times  he  wrote  in. 

It  has  been  objected  against  Mr. 
Foote,  that  the  introduction  of 
real  characters  on  the  stage  was  not 
only  ungenerous,  but  cruel  and  un-. 
just  j  and  that  the  rendering  any 
person  the  object  of  public  ridicule 
and  laughter,  was  doing  him  the 
most  essential  injury  possible,  as,  it 
was  wounding  the  human  breast  in 
the  tenderest  point,  viz.  its  pride 
and  self-opinion.  Yet  we  cannot 
think  this  charge  so  strong  as  the 
vehement  opponents  of  mimicry 


250 


F  0  O 


would  have  it  appear  to  be.  Mr. 
Foote  himself,  in  his  Minor,  has 
very  justly  distinguished  who  are 
the  proper  objects  of  ridicule, 
and  the  legal  victims  to  the  lash 
of  satire ;  that  is  to  say,  those  who 
appear  what  they  are  not,  or  would 
be  what  they  cannot.  When  hy- 
pocrisy and  dissimulation  would 
lay  snares  for  the  fortunes,  or  con- 
taminate the  principles  of  man- 
kind, it  is  surely  but  justice  to  the 
world  to  withdraw  the  mask,  and 
show  their  natural  faces  with  the 
distortions  and  shocking  deformi- 
ties they  are  really  possessed  of. 
And  when  affectation  or  singula- 
rity overbear  the  more  valuable 
parts  of  any  person's  character, 
and  render  those  disagreeable  and 
wearisome  companions,  who,  di- 
vested of  those  characteristic  foi- 
bles, might  be  valuable,  sensible, 
and  entertaining  members  of  the 
community,  it  is  themselves  surely 
who  act  the  ridiculous  part  on  the 
more  extensive  stage  of  the  world; 
and  it  should  rather  be  deemed  an 
act  of  kindness  both  to  the  persons 
themselves  and  their  acquaintance 
to  set  up  such  a  mirrour  before 
them,  as  by  pointing  out  to  them- 
selves their  absurd  peculiarities,  (and 
who  is  without  some?)  may  afford 
them  an  opportunity,  by  amend- 
ment, to  destroy  the  resemblance, 
and  so  avoid  the  ridicule  :  such  a 
sort  of  kindness,  as  it  would  be,  to 
lead  a  person  to  a  looking-glass 
who  had  put  on  his  peruke  the 
wrong  side  foremost,  instead  of 
suffering  him  in  that  condition  to 
run  the  gauntlet  in  the  mall  or 
the  playhouse,  where  he  must  per- 
ceive the  titter  of  the  whole  as- 
sembly raised  against  him,  without 
knowing  on  what  account  it  is 
raised,  or  by  what  means  to  put  a 
stop  to  it.  In  a  word,  if  a  Sir 
Penurious  Trifle,    a   Peter  Para- 


F  O  R 

graph,  or  a  Cadwallader,  have 
ever  had  their  originals  in  real  life, 
let  those  originals  keep  their  own 
counsel,  remember  the  qui  capil 
illejacit,  and  reform  their  respec- 
tive follies.  Nor  can  we  help  being 
of  opinion,  that  an  author  of  this 
kind,  in  some  respects,  is  more  use- 
ful ;o  the  age  he  lives  in,  than 
those  who  only  range  abroad  into 
the  various  scenes  of  life  for  gene- 
ral character.  And  although  Mr. 
Food's  dramatic  pieces  may  not 
perhaps  have  the  good  fortune  to 
attain  immortality,  or  be  perfectly 
relished  by  the  audiences  of  a  fu- 
ture age ;  yet  we  cannot  deny  him 
here  the  justice  of  bearing  strong 
testimony  to  his  merits,  and  rank- 
ing him  among  the  first  of  the 
dramatists  of  this. 

Ford,  Thomas.  This  author 
lived  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I. 
and  was  probably  an  Essex  man  ; 
as  he  mentions  himself  to  have 
been  of  the  neighbourhood  of 
Maiden.  He  published  one  dra- 
matic piece,  entitled 

Love's  Lalyrinlh.  T.  C.  8vo. 
1660. 

Forde,  Brownlow,  appears 
to  have  been  some  time  a  per- 
former in  Ireland.  He  produced 
one  piece,  taken  from  Cibber,  and 
printed  at  Newry,  called 

The  Miraculous  Cure;  or,  The 
Citizen  out  wit  ted.  F.  12mo.  1771. 

Forde,  John,  was  the  second 
son  of  Thomas  Forde,  Esq.  and 
was  born  at  Ilsington,  in  Devon- 
shire, where  he  was  baptized, 
April  1/,  15S6.  He  became  a 
member  of  the  Middle  Temple, 
Nov.  1 6,  1602,  and  wrote  in  the 
reigns  of  James  I.  and  Charles  I. 
He  was  not  only  himself  a  well- 
wisher  and  devotee  to  the  Muses, 
but  also  a  friend  and  acquaintance 
of  most  of  the  poets  of  his  time, 
particularly  of  Rowley  and  Dek- 


251 


FOR 

ker,  with  whom  he  joined  in  the 
composition  o.  some  ol  their  plays. 
He  wrote,  however,  eleven  dra- 
matic pieces  on  his  own  foundation 
entirely,  all  of  which  have  consi- 
derable merit,  and  met  with  good 
success.  Not  only  his  genius  as  a 
writer,  but  his  disposition  as  a  man, 
seems  to  have  been  more  inclined 
to  tragedy  than  comedy,  at  least  if 
we  may  be  alio  wed  to  form  our 
judgment  on  a  distich  concerning 
him,  written  by  a  contemporary 
poet  : 

Deep  in  a  dump  John  Forde  was  alone 

got, 
With  folded  arras,  and  melancholy  hat. 

According  to  the  custom  of  that 
time,  his  name  is  not  affixed  to  any 
of  his  plays  ;  but  they  may  be 
known  by  au  anagram,  generally 
printed  in  the  title-page,  instead  of 
a  name,  viz. 

Fide  Honor ; 
and  the  titles  of  them  are  as  in  the 
following  list: 

1.  The  Lovers  Melancholy.  T. 
C.  4to.   1629. 

2.  Lwe's  Sacrifice.  T.  4to.  1633. 

3.  'Tis  Pity  She's  a  Whore.  T. 
4to.   1633. 

4.  The  Broken  Heart.  T.  4to. 
1633. 

5.  Perkin  War  beck.  Hist.  4to. 
1634 

6.  Fancies  Chast  and  Nolle.  T. 
C.  4to.  1638. 

7.  The  Ladies  Trial.  T.  C.  4to. 
163.0. 

8.  The  Sun's  Darling.  M.  4to. 
1656.     (Assisted  by  Dekker.) 

9.  Beauty  in  a  Trance.     N.  P. 

10.  The  Royal  Combat.  C.  N.P. 
1  I .  An  ill  Beginning  has  a  good 

End,  and  a  bad  Beginning  may 
have  a  good  End.     N.  P. 

12.  The  London  Merchant.  N.P. 

The  third  of  these  is  an  admir- 
able play,  and  is  to  be  found  in 
Dodsley's  Collection,  vol.  viii. 


FOR 


He  also  assisted  Dekker  and 
Rowley  in  the  writing  of  another 
piece,  entitled, 

The  Witch  of  Edmonton.  Tr. 
Com.  4to.  1658. 

Winstanley  observes,  that  this 
author  was  very  beneficial  to  the 
Red  Bull  and  Fortune  play-houses, 
as  may  appear  by  the  plays  which 
he  wrote.  But  this  is  apparently 
a  mistake ;  since  in  the  several  title- 
pages  to  his  plays  they  will  be 
found  to  have  been  all  acted  either 
at  the  Globe,  or  the  Phoenix,  some- 
times called  the  Cockpit. 

We  know  not  when  this  author 
died ;  but  as  all  his  plays  were 
published  between  1629  and  1639, 
it  is  scarcely  to  be  supposed  that 
so  rapid  a  course  of  genius  could 
have  been  stopped  all  at  once,  by 
any  thing  but  that  great  inevitable 
stroke ;  it  is  probable  therefore 
that  he  may  have  died  shortly  after 
the  last-mentioned  year.  For  as 
to  The  Suns  Darling,  written  by 
him  and  Dekker,  though  not  pub- 
lished till  1656,  yet  Langbaine  has 
informed  us  with  respect  to  it,  that 
it  did  not  make  its  appearance  in 
print  till  after  the  death  of  both  its 
authors. 

Winstanley  has  also  by  mistake 
attributed  to  this  author  the  play 
of  Love's  Labyrinth,  written  by 
Thomas  Ford,  before  mentioned. 

Formido,  Sir  Cornelius. 
Under  this  name  is  entered  in  the 
book  of  the  Stationers'  Company, 
Sept.  9,  1653,  one  play,  which 
was  destroyed  by  Mr.  War  bur  ton's 
servant,  called 

The  Governor.     T. 

Forrest,  Theodosius,  an  at- 
torney of  high  reputation,  long 
resident  in  George  Street,  York 
Buildings,  was  the  author  of  many 
songs  and  one  drama,  entitled 

the  Weathercock.  M.  E.  8vo. 
1775. 


252 


FOR 

This  gentleman,  having  long 
laboured  with  a  nervous  disorder, 
attended  with  a  black  jaundice, 
unfortunately  put  an  end  to  his 
existence,  Nov.  5,  17S4,  at  the 
age  of  about  fifty-six.  He  was, 
all  his  life  long,  in  poetical  ex- 
pression, "  tremblingly  alive  all 
*'  o'er;"  and  was  so  anxious  in  the 
service  of  his  clients,  that,  at  those 
limes,  he  may  be  said  hardly  to 
have  known  what  sleep  was.  He 
was  obliged,  on  account  of  in- 
creasing bodily  and  mental  dis- 
tresses, to  resign  a  great  part  of 
his  professional  business.  It  was 
hopedby  his  acquaintance,  that  a  six 
weeks  tour  which  he  took  into  Ire- 
land the  preceding  summer,  would 
have  restored  his  health,  and  con- 
tinued him  much  longer  among 
the  circle  of  those  he  loved,  and 
who  loved  him ;  for  he  declared, 
on  his  return,  that  he  went  from 
London  with  every  complaint,  and 
felt  not  a  disagreeable  sensation 
while  be  was  absent  from  home. 
But  neither  friendship,  that  sun- 
shine of  life,  nor  prosperity,  that 
preserver  of  good  humour  to  the 
end  of  it,  could  save  him  from  the 
gloom  of  dejection  and  despair. 
Those  who  saw  him  during  his 
last  month  perceived  that  "  Me- 
"  lancholy  mark'd  him  for  her 
"  own  ;"  and  it  was  a  greater  sor- 
row than  surprise  to  them  to  find, 
that,  in  the  desertion  of  reason, 
"  he  took  arms  against  a  sea  of 
"  troubles,"  and  left  his  post  as 
a  sentinel,  before  he  was  sum- 
moned away.  At  the  beginning 
of  life,  he  studied  drawing  under 
Lambert,  one  of  the  first  land- 
scape-painters of  his  time  ;  and 
till  a  year  or  two  before  his  death, 
he  annually  exhibited  a  drawing 
at  the  Royal  Academy.  He  was 
%  universally  known  to  the  masters 
in  the  polite  arts,  but  was  not  en- 


POR 


vied  or  disliked  by  any  of  them. 
He  was  considered,  as  Johnson 
says  of  Gay  by  Pope,  Swift,  and 
Arbuthnot,  as  their  playfellow  and 
companion,  instead  of  their  rival. 
His  father  (who  wrote  The  Five 
Days'  Peregrination  of  Hogarth, 
himself,  and  three  others,  which 
the  late  Mr.  Gosling  versified,  and 
Mr.  Nichols  incorporated  with  his 
Anecdotes  of  Hogarth)  called  him 
oft"  from  this  seductive  employment 
to  the  lucrative  track  of  an  attor- 
ney, and  made  him  serve  a  clerk- 
ship under  him  :  but  though  he 
was  obliged  to  consider  the  law  as 
his  wife,  the  arts  were  the  mis- 
tresses of  his  affection.  He 
had  a  passion  for  music,  though 
he  played  upon  no  instrument ; 
could  catch  a  favourite  air  with 
surprising  quickness,  and  had  a 
very  agreeable  manner  of  singing. 
He  seldom  failed  attending  the 
Beef  Steak  Club  every  Saturday, 
of  which  he  was  early  admitted  a 
member  (and  of  which  his  father 
was  one  of  the  eldest),  where  his 
pleasantries  were  much  regarded. 
If  he  was  not  able  "  to  set  the 
"  table  in  a  roar,"  yet  he  always 
excited  attention,  and  all  thought 
themselves  lucky  in  having  him 
for  a  guest.  "  He  was  fond  to 
"  spread  friendships,  but  (though 
*'  a  man  of  the  law)  to  cover 
"  heats."  He  was  also  happy  in 
his  poetical  talent,  composed  many 
songs,  and  sung  them  well.  But 
he  seldom  suffered  sing-song,  or 
epigram,  to  break  in  upon  his  line 
of  business.  "  He  penn'd  no 
"  stanza  when  he  should  engross  ;" 
— parchments,  not  poetry,  lay  up- 
on his  office-table — it  was  crowd- 
ed with  leases  and  conveyances. 
He  had  as  many  friends,  and  as  few 
enemies,  as  can  be  supposed — 
perhaps  none  but  what  the  prose- 
cuting law  made  him.     He  had  A 


253 


F  R  A 


F  R  A 


plentiful  income,  and  was  pos- 
sessed of  money  in  the  funds.  He 
was  affectionately,  and  perhaps  by 
some,  on  account  of  his  figure, 
for  he  was  rather  under  the  com- 
mon size,  called  Little  Forrest ; 
bat  he  was  a  giant  in  the  estima- 
tion of  all  of  both  sexes  who  knew 
him. 

Fountain,  John.  This  gen- 
tleman lived  in  Devonshire,  and 
soon  after  the  Restoration  publish- 
ed a  play,  which  he  had  written 
for  the  amusement  of  some  leisure 
hours,  and  without  any  view  to  the 
stage,  entitled, 

The  Rewards  of  Virtue.  C.  4 to. 
J  661. 

About  eight  years  after  its  first 
publication,  however,  the  author 
being  dead,  Mr.  Shadwell  took  it 
in  hand,  and,  making  some  altera- 
tions in  it,  brought  it  on  the  stage, 
where  it  met  with  very  good  suc- 
cess, under  the  title  of 

The  Royal  Shepherdess.  T.  C. 
4to.  1669. 

Francis,  Philip.     This  gen- 
tleman was  of  Irish  extraction,  if 
not  born  in  that  kingdom.     His 
father  was  a  dignified  clergyman, 
being  dean  of  some  cathedral,  and 
also  rector  of  St.  Mary,  Dublin ; 
whence   he  was   ejected   by   the 
court,  on  account  of  his  Tory  prin- 
ciples, after  he  had  enjoyed  the 
living  eighteen  years.     Our  pre- 
sent author,  his  son,  was  also  bred 
to  the  church,  and  had  a  doctor's 
degree  conferred  en  him.    He  was 
more   celebrated    as   a  translator 
than  an  original   writer ;  his  ver- 
sions of  Horace  and  Demosthenes, 
particularly  the  former,  having  met 
with  great  applause.    He  was  also 
a  considerable  political  writer,  and, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  present 
reign,  is  supposed  to  have  been 
employed  by  the  government  in 
writing  in  its  defence ;  for  which 


he  was  promoted  to  the  rectory  of 
Barrow,  in  Suffolk,  at  the  desire 
of  Lord  Holland,  and  to  the  chap- 
lainship  of  Chelsea  Hospital.  He 
died  at  Bath,  the  5th  of  March 
1773,  leaving  a  son,  now  Sir 
Philip  Francis,  Knight  of  the  Bath, 
who  was  one  of  the  supreme  coun- 
cil at  Bengal  during  the  govern- 
ment of  Mr.  Hastings,  with  whom, 
he  had  a  duel  in  Calcutta. 

As  a  dramatic  writer  Dr.  Fran- 
cis was  not  very  successful  j  hav- 
ing written  only  two  pieces,  which 
were  but  coolly  received.  The 
titles  of  them  are, 

1.  Eugenia.    T.  8vo.   1752. 

2.  Const antine.  T.  8vo.  1754. 
Churchill  once  said  in  conversa- 
tion, that  he  intended  to  write  a 
satirical  poem,  in  which  Francis 
was  to  make  his  appearance  in  the 
character  of  the  ordinary  of  New- 
gate. 

Francis, .    A  person  of 

this  name  is  the  author  of 

The  Enchanted  Wood.  Leg.  Dr. 
8vo.    1792. 

Franckxin,  Dr.  Thomas.  This 
learned  and  ingenious  author  waa 
the  son  of  Richard  Francklin,  well 
known  as  the  printer  of  an  anti- 
ministerial  paper  called  The  Crafts- 
man ;  in  the  conduct  of  which  he 
received  great  assistance  from  Lord 
Bolingbroke,    Mr.   Pulteney,  and 
other  excellent  writers,  who  then 
opposed  Sir  Robert  Walpole's  mea- 
sures. By  the  advice  of  the  second 
of  these   gentlemen,    it   is    said, 
our  author  was  devoted  to   the 
church,  with  a  promise  of  being 
provided  for  by  the  patriot,  who 
afterwards  forgot  his  undertaking, 
and  entirely  neglected  him.     He 
was    educated     at     Westminster 
school,  from  whence  he  went  to 
the  university  of  Cambridge,  where 
he  became  fellow  of  Trinity  Col- 
lege.   He  early  solicited  the  notiaf 


254 


F  R  A 

©f  the  world  by  a  translation  of 
Phalaris's    Epistles,    published    in 
8vo.   1749,  and  of  Cicero  on  the 
Nature  of  the  Gods,  with  philoso- 
phical notes,  and  An  Enquiry  into 
the  Astronomy  and  Anatomy  of  the 
Ancients,  reprinced  8vo.  1//5.  On 
the  '2/th  June  1750,  he  was  cho- 
sen Greek  professor,  in  opposition 
to  Mr.  Barford,  of  King's  College, 
and  in  the  same  year  became  in- 
volved in  a  dispute  with  the  uni- 
versity on  the  following  occasion  : 
On   the   17th  of  November,  he, 
with  a  number  of  gentlemen  edu- 
cated at  Westminster  school,  hav- 
ing met  at  a  tavern,  according  to 
custom,  to  celebrate  Queen  Eli- 
zabeth's  anniversary,    they    were 
interrupted  by  the  senior  proctor, 
who  came  into  the  company  after 
eleven  o'clock  at  night,  and  or- 
dered them  to  depart,  it  being  an 
irregular   hour.     Deeming  them- 
selves affronted  by  this  intrusion, 
some  words  passed   between   the 
gentlemen  and   the  officer,  who, 
in  his  turn,   being  also  offended, 
summoned  several  of  them  before 
the  Vice-chancellor,    who  repri- 
manded  four,    and  fined   others. 
Mr.   Francklin,  who  was  one  of 
the  party,  had  his  share  in  the  al- 
tercation, and  is  supposed  to  have 
been  the  author  of  a  pamphlet, 
entitled  An  Authentic  Narrative  of 
the  late  extraordinary  Proceedings, 
at    Cambridge,  against  the   West- 
minster Cluh,  London,  8vo.  1751; 
denying  the  charge  of  irregularity 
and  insult,  and  censuring  the  proc- 
tor's  behaviour   as    rigorous   and 
unprecedented.     This  dispute  en- 
gaged the  attention  of  the  univer- 
sity for  some  time,  and  occasioned 
much  ill-blood  among  the  mem- 
bers of  that  learned  body.     In  the 
year  1753,  he  published  a  poem, 
called   Translation,    in  which  he 


F  R  A 

announced  his  intention  of  giving 
a  translation  of  Sophocles. 

In  January  1757>  on  the  perio- 
dical paper  called  The  World  being 
finished,  he  engaged  to  publish  a 
similar  one,  under  the  title  of  The 
Centinel,  which  was  not  success- 
ful.    The  next  year  he  published 
A  Sermon,  delivered  the  17th  of 
February,  ai  Queen  Street  Chapel, 
where   he  was  preacher,    and  at 
St.  Paul's,  Covent  Garden,  where 
he   was  lecturer,  on  occasion  of 
the  Fast ;   and  about   November 
Oth,  he  was  preferred  to  the  liv- 
ings of  Ware  and  Thundrich,  in 
Hertfordshire,  on  the  death  of  Dr. 
Webster.     In   1750   appeared  his 
translation  of  Sophocles,  in  2  vols. 
4to.    which  was  followed    by  A 
Dissertation  on  Ancient   Tragedy, 
in  which  he  mentioned  the  author 
of  The  Orphan  of  China  by  name, 
in  terms  of  very  gross  abuse.  That 
gentleman    soon   retaliated    in   a 
severe  poetical  epistle,  addressed 
to  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  ;  and  the 
enmity  between  them  was  carried 
to  such  a  pitch,  that  our  author 
even  had  recourse  to  the  law  for 
protection,  and   swore  the  peace 
against  his   antagonist.     We   re- 
member on  this  occasion  the  fol- 
lowing verses  being  handed  about 
in  MS. 

TO    MR.    MURPHY. 
Had  you  been  damn'd,  good  Francklin 

had  been  easy, 
Nor  had  the  Law  and  Gospel  join'd  to 

tease  ye  ; 
But  fame  like  yours  no  Christian  soul 

can  bear, 
But  fame  like  yours  would  make  a  Parson 

swear. 
And  yet  for  all  his  oaths  the  priest  is 

sore, 
Nor  will  enjoy  the  peace  for  which  he 

swore, 
Unless  he  bind  you  too — to  write  no 

more. 

We  believe,  however,  that  the 


255 


F  R  A 


F  R  A 


combatants  afterwards  agreed  to  a 
cessation  of  hostilities.  At  this 
time  he  is  supposed  to  have  been 
concerned  in  writing  some  articles 
in  The  Critical  Review.  On  the 
20th  of  January  17-59,  he  married 
Miss  Venables ;  and  in  1/&0,  he 
preached  and  published  A  Sermon 
on  the  King's  Death. 

Were  we  to  judge  of  our  au- 
thor's character  by  the  testimony 
of  a  hand  not  friendly  to  him,  we 
should  not  hold  him  in  that  degree 
of  respect  which  we  are  inclined 
to  consider  him  in.  Nptwithstand- 
ing  his  learning  and  abilities,  he 
seems  to  have  been  not  much 
esteemed  by  his  contemporaries. 
Churchill,  in  his  Rosciad,  says, 

Others  for  Francklin  voted,  but    't  was 

known 
He  sicken'd  at  all  triumphs  but  his  own. 

How  far  he  deserved  this  cen- 
sure, is  best  known  to  those  who 
were  most  intimate  with  him. 
For  the  credit  of  literature,  we 
hope  it  is  unfounded. 

In  1763  he  preached  a  sermon 
before  the  sons  of  the  clergy, 
which  was  afterwards  printed ; 
and  in  1  /65  set  forth  a  volume  of 
Sermons  on  the  Relative  Duties, 
which  were  favourably  received 
by  the  public.  The  next  year  he 
turned  his  attention  to  the  stage, 
and  produced,  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre,  The  Earl  of  Warwick,  a 
tragedy,  taken,  without  any  ac- 
knowledgement, from  Monsieur 
de  la  Harpe,  but  to  which  the  ex- 
cellence of  Mrs.  Yates's  perform- 
ance gave  a  considerable  reputa- 
tion. In  November  1767  he  was 
appointed  chaplain  to  His  Majesty. 
On  the  16th  of  May  1768,  he 
exerted  his  talents  as  a  preacher  in 
behalf  of  the  Charity  for  Female 
Orphans,  at  the  Asylum ;  and  in 
the  same  year  published  A  Letter 
to  a  Bishop,  concerning  Lecture- 


skips,  Svo.  This  admirable  piece 
of  humour  is  anonymous.  The 
next  year  he  wrote  An  Ode  on  the 
Institution  of  the  Royal  Academy, 
January  1st;  and  on  March  13th 
he  repaid  die  obligation  he  had 
received  from  Mrs.  Yates's  excel- 
lent performance  of  the  character 
of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  in  The  Earl 
of  Warwick,  by  presenting  her 
with  a  translation  of  Voltaire's 
Orestes,  acted  at  Covent  Garden, 
for  her  benefit.  On  the  6th  July 
1770,  he  took  the  degree  of  doctor 
of  divinity.  In  March  1774,  he 
preached  a  Sermon  for  the  benefit 
of  unfortunate  persons  confined 
for  small  debts ;  and  in  the  same 
year  produced  another  tragedy, 
at  Drury  Lane,  translated  from 
Voltaire,  called  Electra.  In  1775, 
at  the  same  Theatre,  Matilda, 
taken,  as  was  The  Ear  I  of  Warwick, 
from  a  French  play,  called  Due  de 
Foix,  without  any  acknowledg- 
ment. This  was  followed  by  The 
Contract,  a  farce  acted  at  the  Hay- 
market  in  1 776,  with  no  success. 
About  this  time  he  was  presented 
to  the  living  of  Brasted,  in  Surry, 
which  he  held  to  his  death.  He 
had  several  years  employed  him- 
self in  translating  the  works  of 
Lucian,  which  he  completed  and 
published  in  2  vols.  4to.  178O, 
This  was  his  last  performance 
which  has  been  published.  He 
had  written  a  tragedy  on  the  subject 
of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  of  which, 
however,  the  prudery  and  ridiculous 
scruples  of  some  principal  actresses, 
who  declined  the  part  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  prevented  the  represent- 
ation. It  was  announced  several 
times,  but  without  ever  being 
performed.  Dr.  Francklin  died  at 
his  house  in  Great  Queen  Street, 
March  15,  1784. 

We  shall  now  recapitulate  the 
dramatic    pieces    of    which    the 


*56 


P  R  A 


F  R  A 


Doctor  was  either  author  or  trans- 
lator, viz. 

A  Translation  of  Sophocles,  4to. 
*759,  containing, 

1.  Ajax. 

2.  Electra. 

3.  CEdipus  Tyr annus. 

4.  Antigone. 

5.  CEdipus  Coloneus. 

6.  Trachinicp. 
7-  Philoctetes. 

And  the  following  plays  : 

1 .  Electra.  T.  translated  from 
Voltaire.   12mo.   1761. 

2.  The  Earl  of  Warwick.  T. 
Svo.  1766. 

3.  Orestes.  T.  translated  from 
Voltaire.     IN.  P. 

4.  Matilda.  T.  8vo.   1775. 

5.  TAe  Contract.  C.  8vo.  1776. 

6.  Tragopodagra ;  or,  TTie  Gom£. 
T.  translated  from  Lucian.  4to. 
1780. 

7.  Mar^  Queen  of  Scots.  T. 
Still  in  MS. 

Dr.  Francklin,  like  Mr.  Foote, 
suffered  a  translation  from  the 
French  to  be  printed  in  his  name ; 
but  perhaps  few,  if  more  than 
those  plays  of  Voltaire  mentioned 
above,  were  really  by  him.  It  was 
9  translation  of  Voltaire's  Works, 
to  which  also  Dr.  Smollett's  name 
appears,  and  contains  the  follow- 
ing pieces  •. 

1.  CEdipus.    T. 

2.  Mariamne.     T. 

3.  Brutus.     T. 

4.  Semiramis.     T. 

5.  The  Death  of  Coesar .     T. 

6.  Amelia  j    or.  The   Duke  of 
St.  Foix.     T. 

7.  Orestes.     T. 

8.  The  Prodigal.     C. 

9.  Merope.     T. 

10.  Nanine.     C. 

11.  The  Babbler.     C. 

12.  Zara.     T. 

13.  The  Prude.     C. 

14.  Pandora.    O. 


15.  Mahomet.    T. 

16.  Socrates.  Dram.  Perform. 
17-  Alzira;  or,  The  Americans. 

18.  Catiline ;    or,    iforae  pro 
served.     T. 

19.  The  Coffee-House ;  or,  T^e 
Scotch  Woman.     C. 

20.  The  Orphan  of  China.     T. 

21.  Olympia.     T. 
Franklin,    Andrew.       this 

gentleman,  a  native  of  Ireland, 
and,  we  believe,  editor  of  a  news- 
paper, has  written  the  following 
dramatic  pieces  : 

1.  The  Hypochondriac.     M.  E. 
1785.    N.  P. 

2.  The  Mermaid.  F.  8vo.  1702. 

3 .  A  Trip  to  the  Nore.     M.  E. 
8vo.  1797. 

4.  The  Wandering  Jew.  C.  8vo. 
1797- 

5.  The  Outlaws.    M.  D.   1798. 
N.  P. 

6.  Embarkation.     M.  E,   1799- 

7.  Gander  Hall.  F.  1799.  N.P. 

8.  The   Egyptian  Festival.     C. 
Op.  Svo.  1800. 

9.  The  Counterfeit.     F.   1804. 
Fraunce,     Abraham.      This 

ancient  author  lived  in  the  reign 
of  Queen  Elizabeth.  According 
to  Oldys's  MSS.  he  was  bred  at 
the  expense  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney, 
at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge, 
where  he  took  the  degree  of  M.A. 
and  afterwards  went  to  Gray's 
Inn,  where  he  continued  until  he 
was  called  to  the  bar  of  the  court 
of  the  Marches  in  Wales.  In 
August  1590,  he  was  recommend- 
ed by  Henry  Earl  of  Pembroke  lo 
Lord  Treasurer  Burleigh,  as  a  man 
in  every  respect  sufficient  for  the 
place  of  Her  Majesty's  solicitor  in 
that  court.  What  became  of  him 
afterwards  does  not  appear.  He 
has  written  several  things  in  the 
awkwardestof  all  verse,  though  at 
that  time  greatly  in  vogue,  English 
hexameter.    Among  other  things 


257 


F  R  E 

he  has  executed  a  translation  of 
Tasso's  Aminta,  which  he  has  de- 
dicated to  the  celebrated  Countess 
of  Pembroke,  under  the  title  of 

Amyntas.     Past.    4to.    15pi. 
It  is,  however,  contained  in  the 
body  of  another  piece,  entitled 

Countessof Pembroke  s IvyChurch. 
Play,  in  two  Parts  ;  or,  more  pro- 
perly speaking,  a  Pastoral  and  an 
Elegy,  of  which  Amyntas  is  the 
former. 

Free,  John,  D.D.  was  a  co- 
pious writer  on  theology  and  poli- 
tics ;  a  very  learned  man  ;  and  a 
poet  on  various  subjects,  but  of  no 
great  excellence  on  any.  He  is 
said,  however,  to  have  been  a  well- 
principled  Englishman,  the  friend 
of  his  country,  and  a  very  good- 
natured  man.  His  name  obtains 
a  place  in  this  work  on  account  of 
his  being  author  of 

Jephthn.  Orat.   J2mo.   1757. 

Of  his  good-nature,  the  worthy 
Doctor  once  gave  what  our  readers 
will,  perhaps,  think  a  whimsical 
instance;  when  in  his  very  curious 
poem,  called  The  Voluntary  Exile, 
he  made  a  notable  apology  for  the 
celebrated  Charles  Churchill;  par- 
ticularly for  his  laying  aside  the 
clerical  gown,  and  for  his  parting 
from  his  wife,  and  living  with 
another  woman. 

Freeman,  Mark,  of  Taunton, 
in  Somersetshire.  This  name  is, 
we  believe,  a  fictitious  one.  It 
stands,  however,  in  the  title-page 
of  one  piece,  which  is  both  tem- 
porary and  local,  called 

The  Downfall  of  Bribery  ;  or, 
The  Honest  Man  of  Taunton.  P.O. 
8vo.    1733. 

Freeman,  Ralph.  This  gen- 
tleman lived  in  the  time  of  King 
Charles  I.  and  most  probably  is 
the  same  who  was  one  of  the  mas- 
ters of  requests  in  the  reign  of  that 
monarch.      While    the    intestine 

vol.  I. 


FRO 

troubles  lasted,  he  thought  proper 
to  bury  himself  in  retirement ;  du- 
ring which  he  employed  his  hours 
in  the  pursuit  of  poetry,  and  pro- 
duced a  tragedy,  on  which  Lang- 
baine  and  other  writers  bestow  a 
very  high  character.   It  is  entitled, 

Imperials.     T.  4 to.    W55. 

Frome,  Samuel  Blake.  We 
find  this  name  prefixed  to 

Sketches  from  Life.  Op.  [Songs 
only.]  8vo.   1S0Q. 

Frowde,  Philip.  This  gen- 
tleman's father  was  post-master- 
general  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Anne;  and  his  grandfather  was  Sir 
Philip  Frowde,  who  served  King 
Charles  I.  in  quality  of  colonel  of 
horse  and  colonel  of  foot,  and  was 
buried  at  Bath.  When  or  where 
our  author  was  born,  or  where 
he  received  his  first  rudiments  of 
learning,  we  have  not  been  able 
to  ascertain.  It  is  sufficient,  how- 
ever, to  observe,  that  he  finished 
his  studies,  though  he  does  not 
appear  to  have  taken  any  degree, 
at  the  university  of  Oxford,  where 
he  had  the  honour  of  being  parti- 
cularly distinguished  by  Mr.  Addi- 
son, who  was  so  extremely  pleased 
with  the  elegance  and  purity  of 
some  of  his  poetical  performances, 
especially  those  in  Latin,  that  he 
gave  them  a  place  in  his  celebrated 
collection,  entitled  the  Muses  An- 
glicance;  to  whose  merit  so  strong 
a  testimonial  was  given  in  the  de- 
claration of  that  great  French  poet 
M.  Boileau  Despreaux,  that  from 
the  perusal  of  that  collection  he 
first  conceived  an  idea  of  the  great- 
ness of  the  British  genius.  In  the 
dramatic  way  Mr.  Frowde  pro- 
duced two  pieces,  both  in  the  tra- 
gic walk,  entitled, 

1.  Fall  of  Saguntum .  T.  Svo, 
1727. 

2.  Philotas.     T.  8vo.   1731. 
Neither  of  them,  however,  met 

s 


258 


FRO 

with  very  great  success,  thovgh 
they  had  strong  interest  to  support 
them,  and  were  allowed  to  have 
considerable  merit ;  especially  the 
last,  whose  fate  the  author  himself, 
in  his  dedication  of  it  to  the  Earl 
of  Chesterfield  (who  at  the  time 
when  it  was  acted  was  ambassador 
to  the  States  General,  and  conse- 
quently could  not  oblige  the  piece 
by  his  countenance  at  the  repre- 
sentation), describes  by  the  words 
of  Juvenal,  Laudalur  et  a/get. 
Thus  far,  however,  the  judgment 
of  the  public  stands  vindicated,  that 
it  must  be  confessed  Mr.  Frowde's 
tragedies  have  more  poetry  than 
pathos,  more  beauties  of  language 
to  please  in  the  closet,  than  strokes 
of  incident  and  action  to  strike 
and  astonish  in  the  theatre  ;  and 
consequently  they  might  force  a 
due  applause  from  the  reading,  at 
the  same  time  that  they  might  ap- 
pear very  heavy,  and  even  insipid, 
in  the  representation. 

This  elegant  writer  died  at  his 
lodgings  in  Cecil  Street,  in  the 
Strand,  Dec.  19,  173S,  equally 
lamented  as  he  had  been  beloved; 
for  though  his  writings  had  recom- 
mended him  to  public  esteem,  the 
politeness  of  his  genius  was  the 
least  amiable  part  of  his  character; 
as,  besides  the  possession  of  the 
great  talents  of  wit  and  learning, 
an  agreeable  complaisance  of  be- 
haviour,   a  cheerful   benevolence 


F  Y  P 

of  mind,  a  punctual  sincerity  in 
friendship,  and  a  strict  adherence 
to  the  practice  of  honour  and  hu- 
manity, uere  what  added  the  most 
brilliant  ornaments  to  that  charac- 
ter, and  rendered  him  an  object 
of  esteem  and  admiration  to  all 
who  knew  him.  He  was  interred 
in  the  burial-ground  in  Lamb's 
Conduit  Fields. 

Fulwel,  Ulpiav.  An  ancient 
writer,  of  whom  Wood  has  re- 
corded nothing  farther  than  that 
he  lived  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  was  a  native  of  Somer- 
setshire, and  descended  from  a 
good  family  there ;  that  he  was 
born  in  1556,  and,  at  the  age  of 
thirty  years,  became  a  commoner 
of  St.  Mary's  Hall,  in  Oxford  ; 
that  it  does  not  appear  whether  he 
took  any  degree  there,  or  not ;  but 
that  while  he  continued  in  that 
i.^use  he  was  esteemed  a  person 
of  ingenuity  by  hi.->  contemporaries. 
He  wrote  one  moral  dramatic 
piece  in  rhyme,  viz. 

Like  wil  to  Like,  quod  the  Devel 
to  Colier.     Interl.    1568. 

Fyfe,  Alexander.  All  we 
know  of  this  gentleman  is,  that  he 
lived  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne, 
and  published  a  play,  entitled 

The  Royal  Martyr;  or,  King 
Charles  I.  Trag.  4to.  170(J; 
which  had  been  previously  print= 
ed,  4to.  1705,  and  called  an 
opera. 


G. 


GAG 

\j.  J.     See  Gough,  J. 

Gager,  William,  LL.D.  This 
very  learned  and  ancient  author 
"we"  do  not  find  mentioned  in  miy 


GAG 

of  the  lists  of  English  dramatic 
writers,  which- he  is  undoubtedly 
entitled  to  be,  as  a  native  of 
this  kingdom,  notwithstanding  his 


259 


GAG 

pieces  are  written  in  the  Latin 
tongue.  In  what  year  he  was  born 
or  died  does  not  appear ;  but  he 
received  the  rudime-nts  of  his  edu- 
cation at  West  minster  j  from  which 
being  removed  to  the  university 
of  Oxford,  he  was  entered  a  sm- 
dent  it)  Christ  Church  College,  in 
1574,  where  he  took  the  degrees 
in  arts,  and  afterwards,  entering 
on  the  law  line,  took  the  degrees 
in  that  faculty  also,  in  I5SO: 
about  which  time,  being  famed 
for  his  excellencies  therein,  he  be- 
came chancellor  of  the  diocese  of 
Ely,  being  held  in  high  esteem  by 
Dr.  Martin  Heton,  the  bishop  of 
that  see.  The  commendation 
which  Anth.  a  Wood  gives  of  him 
as  to  his  poetical  talents,  is  some- 
what extraordinary.  "  He  was 
"  (says  that  author)  an  excellent 
"  poet,  especially  in  the  Latin 
"  tongue,  and  reputed  the  best 
"  comedian  (by  which  we  suppose 
"  he  means  dramatic  writer)  of 
"  his  time,  whether  (adds  he)  it 
"  was  Edward  Earl  of  Oxford, 
"  Will.  Rowley,  the  once  orna- 
**  ment  for  wit  and  ingenuity  of 
"  Pembroke  Hall,  in  Cambridge, 
"  Richard  Edwards,  John  Lylie, 
"  Tho.  Lodge,  Geo.  Gascoigne, 
"  William  Shakspeare,  Tho. 
"  Nash,  or  John  Hey  wood  :"  a 
-combination  of  names,  indeed, 
so  oddly  jumbled  together,  as  must 
convince  us  that  Mr.  Wood  was  a 
much  better  biographer  than  a 
judge  of  dramatic  writings.  He 
also  tells  us,  that  Dr.  Gager  was  a 
man  of  great  gilts,  a  good  scholar, 
and  an  honest  man ;  and  that,  in 
a  controversy  which  he  maintain- 
ed in  an  epistolary  correspondence 
with  Dr.  John  Rainolds,  concern- 
ing stage  plays  (which  controversy 
was  printed  at  Oxford,  in  4!o. 
I629),  he  had  said  more  for  the 
■defence  of  plays  than  can  well  be 


GAM 

said  again  by  any  man  that  shall 
succeed  or  come  after  him.  He 
at  length,  however,  gave  up  the 
poinr,  either  convinced  by  Dr. 
Rainoids's  arguments,,  or  perhaps 
afraid  of  incurring  censure,  should 
he  have  pursued  the  subject  any 
further.  Wood  informs  us  that 
our  author  wrote  several  plays,  of 
which,  however,  he  gives  us  the 
titles  of  no  more  than  three,  viz. 

1.  Me/eager.    Tr. 

2.  Rivales.    Com. 

3.  Ulysses  redux.     Tr. 

which  are  all  written  in  Latin ; 
and,  as  we  are  informed  by  the 
above-cited  author,  were  acted 
with  great  applause  in  the  refec- 
tory of  Christ  Church  College  5  but 
only  the  first  of  them  does  he  as- 
sure us  of  having  been  printed, 
which  it  was  at  Oxford,  in  4to. 
1592,  and  occasioned  the  letters 
between  the  author  and  Dr.  Rai- 
nolds, of  which  we  have  before 
spoken.  Dr.  Gager  was  living  at 
or  near  the  city  of  Ely,  in  1610. 
We  cannot,  however,  omit  one 
circumstance  of  our  author,  which 
we  are  afraid  will  be  no  very 
strong  recommendation  of  him  to 
our  fair  readers ;  viz.  that  in  ap 
act  at  Oxford,  in  lO'OS,  he  main- 
tained a  thesis,  that  it  teas  lawful 
for  husbands  to  beat  their  1'Avcs. 
This  thesis  was  answered  by  Mr. 
Heale,  of  Exeter  College,  an 
avowed  champion  for  the  fair  sex. 
Galloway,  George.  To  a 
writer  of  this  name  we  find  ascrib- 
ed two  dramas,  viz. 

1.  Admirable  Crichton.  T.  8vo. 
1802. 

2.  The  Battle  of  Luncarty .  Hist, 
P.   12mo.   ISOG. 

Gameold,  John,  was  born  at 
Haverford  West.  He  was  for* 
merly  of  Christ  Church  College, 
Oxford,  where  he  took  the  degree 
of  M.  A.  May  30,  1  /34.  He  was 
■s  2 


260 


GAR 

afterwards,  in  1740,  when  his  only 
dramatic  piece  was  written,  mi- 
nister of  Staunton  Harcour:,  in 
Oxfordshire.  But,  falling  among 
the  sect  cailed  Moravians  ...  re- 
linquished his  connexion  with  the 
church  of  England,  and  became 
professedly  and  steadily  an  adhe- 
rent of  the  new  doctrines.  He 
was  for  many  years  the  principal 
pastor,  or  bishop,  at  their  house 
in  Nevil's  Court,  Fetter  Lane ;  but 
retired,  about  176S,  to  his  native 
town,  where  he  died  Sept.  13, 
177^  •  He  was  a  man  of  consider- 
able learning,  and  an  ingenious 
mechanic.  He  not  only  wrote, 
but  printed  with  his  own  hands, 
many  hymns  and  treatises,  for  the 
use  of  the  Moravians;  and  under- 
stood perfectly  the  whole  art  of 
clock-ni3king.  He  superintended 
the  publication  of  many  useful  and 
valuable  works,  particularly  the 
best  edition  of  Lord  Bacon,  1/65 ; 
and  was  the  author  of 

The  Martyrdom  of  Ignatius.  T. 
8vo.  1773. 

Gardiner,  Matthew.  This 
author,  we  understand,  was  a  na- 
tive of  Ireland,  and  wrote  two 
dramatic  pieces,  most  probably 
performed  in  that  kingdom,  whose 
titles  were, 

1.  Sharpers.  Ballad  Op.  12mo. 
1740. 

2.  Parthian  Hero.  Trag.  8vo. 
1741. 

Gardiner,  William.  Of  this 
writer  we  know  no  more  than  that 
his  name  is  prefixed  to 

The  Sultana.   Tr.   12mo.  1806. 

Gardner,  Mrs.  formerly  Miss 
Cheney,  was  the  wife  of  an  infe- 
rior actor,  and  was  herself  on  the 
stage  in  t:.e  several  theatres  of 
London.  ihe  made  her  first  ap- 
pearance r.:.  Drury  Lane,  in  the 
year  I7t>3,  in  the  character  of 
Miss  Pruej  in  Love  for  Love}  and 


GAR 

was  well  received  at  the  Hayniar- 
ket,in  several  of  Mr.Foote's  pieces. 
In  the  year  1777  she  left  England 
and  went  to  Jamaica.  On  her  re- 
turn from  thence  she  visited  Dub- 
lin, and  performed  at  the  little  thea- 
Vi  in  Capel  Street,  about  the  year 
1/S1  ;  when  she  quarrelled  with 
the  managers  respecting  a  piece 
that  she  had  written,  and  which, 
according  to  promise,  they  were 
to  have  brought  out :  but  such 
was  the  then  miserable  situation  of 
that  theatre,  that  if  they  had  kept 
their  word,  she  could  not  have 
derived  from  it  either  fame  or 
emolument.  On  her  return  to 
London  (1/S2)  she  played  occa- 
sionally ;  and  attempted  (sola)  an 
entertainment  of  her  own  compo- 
sition. Her  dramatic  pieces  are 
two,  viz. 

1 .  The  Advertisement ;  or,  A 
Bi  Id  Stroke  Jor  a  Hustand.  Com. 
1777.    N.P. 

2.  The  Female  Dramatist.  M.  F. 
17S2,  N.  P. 

Garfield,  Benjamin.  In  Ro- 
bert Baron's  PGcula  Castalia  (Svo. 
1050)  we  find  (p.  112)  some  verses 
addressed  to  this  gentleman,  as  his 
"  honoured  frk-r.d  Be:j.  Garfield, 
"  Esquire,  on  his  excellent  tragi- 
"  comedy,  entitled 

"  The  Unfortunate  Fortunate." 
Garkick.,  David.  This  ex- 
cellent actor,  whose  rame  will  be 
ever  held  in  respect  by  the  admirers 
of  theatrical  representations,  was 
the  :-on  of  Peter  Garrick,  a  captain 
in  the  arm)',  who  generally  resided 
at  Lichfield.  He  was  born  at 
Hereford,  where  his  father  was  on 
a  recruiting  party,  and  baptized 
February  28,  17^6>  as  appears  by 
the  church  register  of  the  parish  of 
All  Saints,  in  that  city.  His  mo- 
ther's maiden  name  was  Arabella 
Clough,  daughter  to  one  of  the  vi- 
cars in  Lichfield  cathedral.  At  the 


201 


GAR 


GAR 


age  often  years  he  was  put  under 
the  cue  of  Mr.  Hunter,  master  of 
the  grammar-school  at  Lichfield, 
but  made  no  great  progress  in  lite- 
rature. He  very  early  showed  his 
attachment  to  dramatic  entertain- 
ments ;  having,  in  the  year  172/, 
represented  the  character  of  Ser- 
geant Kite,  in  The  Recruiting  Offi- 
cer, with  great  applause.  From 
school  he  went  to  Lisbon,  to  visit 
his  uncle,  but  stayed  only  a  short 
time  there  before  he  returned  to 
England,  on  which  he  went  again 
to  Mr.  Hunter;  and,  in  1735, 
became  the  pupil  of  Dr.  [then  Mr.] 
Samuel  Johnson,  who  about  that 
time  undertook  to  teach  the  classics 
to  a  certain  number  of  young  gen- 
tlemen. 

The  progress  he  made  under 
this  able  tutor  was  not  such  as  the 
brilliancy  of  his  parts  might  seem 
to  promise ;  the  vivacity  of  his 
character  unfitted  him  for  serious 
pursuits,  and  his  attention  to  the 
drama  prevailed  over  every  other 
object.  After  a  time,  Johnson 
grew  tired  of  teaching ;  and 
Mr.  Garrick  being  desirous  of  a 
more  active  life,  it  was  agreed 
by  both  the  pupil  and  his  tutor  to 
quit  Lichfield,  and  try  their  for- 
tunes in  the  metropolis.  They  ac- 
cordingly set  out  together  on  the 
2d  of  March  1 736 ;  and  on  the  9th 
of  the  same  month,  Mr.  Garrick 
was  entered  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  it 
being  then  intended  that  the  law 
should  be  his  profession.  Having 
had  a  recommendation  from  Mr. 
Walmsley  to  Mr.  Colson,  master 
of  the  school  at  Rochester,  he  on 
the  death  of  his  uncle,  about  1737, 
went  directly  there,  with  a  view  to 
finish  his  education.  In  the  com- 
pany of  so  rational  a  philosopher 
as  Mr.  Colson,  he  was  impercep- 
tibly and  gradually  improved  in  the 
talent  of  thinking  and  reasoning j 


nor  were  the  example  and  precepts 
of  so  wise  a  man  vainly  bestowed 
on  a  mind  so  acute  as  that  of  Mr. 
Garrick. 

His  father  died  soon  after,  and 
was  not  long  survived  by  his  mo- 
ther. He  then  engaged  in  the 
wine-trade,  in  partnership  with  his 
brother  Peter  Garrick  ;  but  this 
connexion  lasting  but  a  short  time, 
he  resolved  to  try  his  talents  on  the 
stage,  and  in  the  summer  of  1741 
went  down  to  Ipswich,  where  he 
acted  with  great  applan  e,  under 
the  name  of  Lyddal.  The  part 
which  he  first  perf  jrmed  was  that 
of  Aboan,  in  the  tragedy  of  Oroo- 
noko. 

After  a  summer  spent  in  the 
country,  he  determined  to  venture 
0  the  London  stage.  He  had  now 
e-  \  ;d  his  powers,  and  considered 
himself  as  worthy  of  a  more  re- 
spectable situation  in  the  theatre  j 
but  it  is  generally  said,  that  the 
then  directors  of  Drury  Lane  and 
Covent  Garden  could  not  be  in- 
duced to  entertain  fhe  same  senti- 
ments. He  was  therefore  obliged 
to  accept  the  offer  of  Mr.  GilTard, 
then  master  of  Goodman's  Fields 
playhouse,  who  engaged  him ;  and 
he  made  his  first  appearance  there 
on  the  ipth  of  Oct.  1741,  in  the 
character  of  Richard  the  Third;  in 
which,  like  the  sun  bursting  from- 
behind  an  obscure  cloud,  he  dis- 
played, in  the  very  earliest  dawn, 
a  somewhat  more  than  meridian 
brightness.  In  short,  his  excel- 
lence dazzled  and  astonished  every 
one ;  and  the  seeing  a  young  man, 
in  no  more  than  his  twenty-fourth' 
year,  and  a  novice  to  the  stage, 
reaching  at  one  single  step  to  that 
height  of  perfection  which  matu- 
rity of  years  and  long  practical 
experience  had  not  been  able  to 
bestow  on  the  then  capital  perfor- 
mers on  the  English  stage,  was  a 
s,3 


262 


GAR 


phenomenon  which  could  not  but 
become  the  object  o.c  universal  spe- 
culation, and  as  universal  admira- 
tion.     The  theatres  toward  the 
court-end  of  the  town  were  on  this 
occasion  deserted,  persons  of  all 
ranks  flocking  to  Goodman's  Fields, 
where  Mr.  Garrick  continued  to 
act  till  the  close  of  the  season  ; 
when,  having  very  advantageous 
terms  offered  him  for  performing 
in  Dublin  during"  some  part  of  the 
summer,   he   went  over   thither, 
where  he  fonnd  the  same  just  ho- 
mage paid  to  his  merit  which  he 
had  received  from  his  own  coun- 
trymen.    To-  the   service  of  the 
latter,  however,  he  esteemed  him- 
self more  immediately  bound;  and 
therefore,  in  the  ensuing  winter, 
engaged   himself    to   Mr.    Fleet- 
wood,   then   manager   of    Drury 
Lane  playhouse,  in  which  theatre 
he  continued  till  the  year   1/43, 
in  the  winter  of  which  he  again 
went  over    to   Ireland,  and  con- 
tinued there  through  the  whole  of 
that  season,  being  joint  manager 
with  Mr.  Sheridan  in  the  direction 
and  profits  of  the  Theatre  Royal 
in  Smock  Alley.    From  thence  he 
returned  to  England,  and  was  en- 
gaged for  the  season  of  1  /4o  with 
the   late  Mr.   Rich,    patentee   of 
Covent  Garden.     This,  however, 
was  his  last   performance  as    an 
hired  actor ;  fur,  in  the  close  of 
that  season,  Mr.  Fleetwood's  pa- 
tent for  the  management  of  Drury 
Lane  being  expired,  and  that  gen- 
tleman having  no  inclination  fur- 
ther tn  pursue  a  design  by  which, 
from   his    want   of    acquaintance 
with  the  proper  conduct  of  it,  or 
some  other  reasons,  he  had  already 
Considerably  impaired  his  fortune, 
Mr.  Garrick,  in  conjunction  with 
Mr.  Lacy,  purchased  the  property 
£>f  that  theatre,  together  with  the 
.renovation  of  the  patent;  and  ia 


GAR 

the  winter  of  174/  opened  it  with 
the  best  part  of  Mr.  Fleetwood'9 
former  company,  and  the  great 
additional  strength  of  Mr.  Barry, 
Mrs.  Pritchard,  and  Mrs.  Cibber, 
from  Covent  Garden. 

In  this  station  Mr.  Garrick  con- 
tinued until  the  year  1776,  with 
an  interval  of  two  years,  from  1763 
to  1765,  which  he  devoted  to  tra- 
velling abroad  ;  and  both  by  his 
conduct  as  a  manager,  and  his  un- 
equalled merit  as  an  actor,  from 
year  to  year,  added  to  the  enter- 
tainment of  the  public,  which  with 
an  indefatigable  assiduity  he  con- 
sulted. Nor  were  the  public  by 
any  means  ungrateful  in  returns 
for  that  assiduity.  On  the  con- 
trary, by  the  warm  and  deserved 
encouragement  which  it  gave  him, 
he  was  raised  to  that  state  of  ease 
and  affluence  to  which  it  must 
surely  be  the  wish  of  every  hone»t 
heart  to  see  superior  excellence  of 
any  kind  exalted. 

An  anecdote  is  related  of  Gar- 
rick and  Preville,  during  the  re- 
sidence of  the  former  on  the  con- 
tinent, which  is  worth  inserting, 
as  a  proof  of  his  professional 
talents  :  While  Mr.  Garrick  was 
in  France,  he  made  a  short  excur- 
sion from  the  capital  with  the  ce- 
lebrated Parisian  performer,  Pre- 
ville. They  were  on  horseback, 
and  Preville  took  a  fancy  to  act 
the  part  of  a  drunken  cavalier* 
Garrick  applauded  the  imitation, 
but  told  him,  he  wanted  one  thing 
which  was  essential  to  complete 
the  picture  ;  he  did  not  make  his 
legs  drunk.  "  Hold,  my  friend 
"  (said  he),  and  I  will  show  you 
"  an  English  blood,  who,  after 
"  having  dined  at  a  tavern,  and 
"  swallowed  three  or  four  bottles 
"  of  Port,  mounts  his  horse  in  a 
"  summer  evening  to  go  to  his 
"  box  in.  the,  country."     He  ira* 


2(53 


GAR 

mediately  proceeded  to  exhibit  all 
the  gradations  of  intoxication.  He 
called  to  his  servant,  that  the  sun 
and  the  fields  were  turning  round 
him;  whipped  and  spurred  his 
horse,  until  the  animal  reared  and 
wheeled  in  every  direction  :  at 
length  he  lost  his  whip,  his  feet 
seemed  incapable  of  resting  in  the 
stirrups,  the  bridle  dropped  from 
his  h;.-nd,  and  he  appeared  to  have 
lost  t'm?  use  of  all  his  faculties. 
Finally,  he  fell  from  his  horse  in 
suchJa  death-like  manner,  that 
Preville  gave  an  involuntary  cry 
of  horror ;  and  his  terror  greatly 
increased  when  he  found  that  his 
friend  made  no  answers  to  his 
questions.  After  wiping  the  dust 
from  his  face,  he  asked  agp.in,  with 
the  emo'ion  and  anxiety  of  friend- 
ship, whether  he  was  hurt.  Gar- 
rick,  whose  eyes  were  closed,  half 
opened  one  of  them,  hiccuped, 
and,  with  the  most  natural  tone  of 
intoxication,  called  for  another 
glass.  Preville  was  astonished  ; 
and  when  Garrick  started  up,  and 
resumed  his  usual  demeanour,  the 
French  actor  exclaimed — "  My 
"  friend,  allow  the  scholar  to  era- 
"  brace  his  master,  and  thank  him 
"  for  the  valuable  lesson  he  has 
"  given  him." 

After  his  return  from  his  tra- 
vels, Mr.  Garrick  declined  the 
performance  of  any  new  charac- 
ters ;  but  continued  to  appear 
every  season  in  some  of  his  fa- 
vourite parts,  until  the  year  17/6 ; 
■when,  satisfied  with  the  wealth  he 
had  acquired,  and  the  fame  he  had 
established,  and  living  in  familiarity 
•with  many  of  the  most  respectable 
persons  of  the  kingdom,  he  re- 
tired to  the  enjoyment  of  repose 
from  the  fatigues  of  his  profes- 
sion, and  quitted  the  stage  on  the 
10th  day  of  June  1776,  after  per- 
forming the  character  cf  Don  Fe- 


G  A  R 

lis,  in  Mrs.  Centlivre's  comedy  of 
The  Wonder,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
fund  for  decayed  actors.  After 
the  comedy,  he  came  forth  and 
addressed  the  audience  in  the  fol- 
lowing words: 
"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, 

"  It  has  been  customary  with 
"  persons  under  my  circumstances, 
"  to  address  you  in  a  farewell 
"  epilogue.  I  had  the  same  in- 
"  tendon,  and  turned  my  thoughts 
"  that  way ;  but  indeed  I  found 
"  myself  then  as  incapable  of  writ- 
"  ing  such  an  epilogue,  as  I  should 
"  be  now  of  speaking  it. 

"  The  j ingle  of  rhyme,  and  the 
"  language  of  fiction,  would  but  ill 
"  suit  my  present  feelings  " 

Here  for  a  moment  he  was  in- 
capable of  proceeding  until  relieved 
by  a  flood  of  tears. :'    i 

"  Whatever  may  be  the  changes 
"  of  my  future  life,  the  deep  im- 
"  pression  I  have  of  your  kindness 
"  will  always  remain  here  (putting 
"  his  hand  upon  his  breast)  fixed 
"  and  unalterable.  I  will  very 
"  readily  agree  to  my  successors 
"  having  more  skill  and  ability  for 
"  their  station  than  1  have ;  but  I 
"  defy  them  all  to  take  more  sin- 
"  cere  and  more  uninterrupted 
"  pains  for  your  favour,  or  to  be 
"  more  truly  sensible  of  if,  than 
"  is  your  most  obedient  grateful 
"  servant." 

This  address  met  with  general 
and  repeated  applause,  from  all 
parts  of  the  house,  which  was 
crowded  almost  to  suffocation. 

In  the  year  1777  Mr.  Garrick 
was  desired  to  read  a  play  before 
the  Ring  and  Queen,  at  Bucking- 
ham House,  in  the  manner  of 
Mons.  Le  Texier,  who  had  ob- 
tained great  reputation  by  read- 
ing plays,  sitting  at  a  table, 
find  acting  them  as  he  went  on. 
Mr,  Garrick  fixed  upon  hit  own 
s  4 


2fJ4 


GAR 

f.irce  of  Lethe,  in  which  he  intro- 
duced,  for  the  occasion,  the  cha- 
racter of  an  ungrateful  Jew.  There 
were  present,  the  King,  Queen, 
Princess  Royal,  Dutchess  of  Ar- 
gyle,  and  one  or  two  more  of  the 
Jadies  in  waiting  ;  but  the  coldness 
with  which  this  select  party  heard 
tim,  so  opposite   to  the  applause 
he  had  always  been  used  to  on  the 
stage,  had  such  an  effect  upon  him, 
as  to  prevent  his  exertions ;  or,  to 
use  Mr.  Garrick's  own  words  in 
relating  the  circumstance,  "  it  was 
*'  (said  he)  as  if  they  had  thrown 
"  a  wet  blanket  over  me." 

In  January  1777*  Mr.  Garrick 
was  put  into  the  commission  of 
the  peace  :  a  fact  that  had  hitherto, 
we  believe,  been  very  little  known. 
But  we  do  not  learn  that  he  ever 
acted  in  that  character. 

At  this  period,  the  stone,  a  dis- 
order to  which  he  had  been  long 
tubject,  began  to  make  such  in- 
roads on  his  constitution,  that  the 
happiness  which  he  expected  from 
retirement  was  often  interrupt- 
ed, and  sometimes  destroyed,  by 
the  violence  of  the  pain  he  en- 
dured. He  had  been  used  to  try 
the  effects  of  quack  medicines,  to 
relieve  him  from  the  torments 
which  he  suffered,  and  it  has  been 
thought  that  his  health  received 
much  injury  from  this  injudicious 
mode  of  tampering  with  his  ma- 
lady. At  Christmas  1 7/8  he  visited 
Lord  Spencer,  at  Althorpe,  where 
he  was  taken  ill,  but  recovered 
sufficiently  to  return  to  London, 
and  died  at  his  house  in  the  A^el- 
phi,  after  a  few  days'  sickness, 
on  the  20th  January  1779.  His 
body  was  interred,  with  great 
funeral  pomp,  in  Westminster 
Abbev,  on  the  1st  of  February 
following. 

To  enter  into  a  particular  detail 
sf  Mr.  Garrick's  several  merits,  or 


GAR 

a  discussion  of  his  peculiar  excel- 
lencies in  the  immense  variety  of 
characters  he  performed,  would  be 
a  task,  not  only  too  arduous  for 
us  to  attempt,  but  too  extensive 
for  the  limits  of  the  present  work; 
and,  indeed,  to  many  readers  of 
the  present  day  would  be  imperti- 
nent  and   unnecessary,    as    they 
must   retain    the    recollection    of 
them.     However,    as   readers   in 
some  more  distant  periods^when, 
as   Mr.  Cibber   expresses  >£,    the 
animated  graces  of  the  player  trill, 
at  best,  lut  faintly  glimmer  through 
the  memory,  or  imperfect  attcsta- 
tion,  of  a  few  surviving  spectators  5 
nay,  when  even  these  testimonials 
shall  be  unattainable,  will  be  de- 
sirous of  forming  to  their  ideas  a 
portrait  of  the  person  and  manner 
of  this  amazing   performer  ;  we 
shall  here  bequeath  our  little  mite 
to  future  dramatic  history,  by  of* 
fering  such  a  rude  sketch  of  them, 
as,  when  touched  up  hereafter  by 
some  other  pencil,    may  answer 
the  intended  purpose,  and  prove  a 
perfect  picture. 

Mr.  Garrick  in  his  person  was 
low,  yet  well  shaped  and -neatly 
proportioned,  and,  having  added 
the  qualifications  of  dancing  and 
fencing  to  that  natural  gentility 
of  manner,  which  no  art  can  be- 
stow, but  with  which  our  great 
mother  nature  endows  many,  even 
from  infancy,  his  deportment  was 
constantly  easy,  natural,  and  en- 
gaging. His  complexion  was 
dark  ;  and  the  features  of  his  face, 
which  were  pleasingly  regular, 
were  animated  by  a  full  black  eye, 
brilliant  and  penetrating.  His 
voice  was  clear,  melodious,  and 
commanding ;  and,  although  it 
might  not  possess  the  strong  over- 
bearing powers  of  Mr.  Mossop's, 
or  the  musical  sweetness  of  Mr. 
Barry's,  yet  it  appeared  to  have  a 


265 


GAR 


much  greater  compass  of  variety 
than  either ;  and,  from  Mr.  Gar- 
rick's  judicious  manner  of  con- 
ducting it,  enjoyed  that  articulation 
and  piercing  distinctness,  which 
rendered  it  equally  intelligible, 
even  to  the  most  distant  parts  of    she  had  stamped  there  were  indeli- 


G  A  R 

fury,  and  simplicity,  all  took  in 
turn  possession  of  his  features,  while 
eacn  of  them  in  turn  appeared  to 
be  the  sole  possessor  of  those  fea- 
tures. One  night  old  age  sat  on 
his  countenance,  as  if  the  wrinkles 


an  audience,  in  the  gentle  whis- 
pers of  murmuring  love,  the  h.ilf- 
smothered  accents  of  infelt  passion, 
or  the  professed  and  sometimes 
awkward  concealments  of  an  aside 
speech  in  comedy,  as  in  the  rants 


ble ;  the  next  the  gaiety  and  bloom 
of  youth  seemed  to  overspread  his 
face,  and  smooth  even  those  marks 
which  time  and  muscular  conform- 
ation might  have  really  made 
there.      Of   these  truths    no   one 


of  rage,  the  darings  of  despair,  or     can  be  ignorant,    who   ever  saw 


all  the  open  violence  of  tragical 
enthusiasm. 

As  to  his  particular  forte  or  su- 
perior cast  in  acting,  it  would  be 
perhaps  as  difficult  to  determine 
it,  as  it  would  be  minutely  to  de- 
scribe his  several  excellencies  in 
the  very  different  casts  in  which 
he  at  various  times  thought  pro- 
per to  appear.  Particular  supe- 
riority was  swallowed   up   in  his 


him  in  the  several  characters  of 
Lear  or  Hamlet,  Richard,  Dorilas, 
Romeo,  or  Lusignan ;  Ranger, 
Bays,  Drugger,  Kitely,  Brute, 
or  Benedict.  In  short,  nature,  the 
mistress  from  whom  alone  this 
great  performer  borrowed  all  his 
lessons,  being  in  herself  inex- 
haustible, and  her  variations  not 
to  be  numbered,  it  is  by  no  means 
surprising,  that  this,  her  darlinj 


universality;  and  should  it  even  be     son,  should  find  an  unlimited  scopi 


contended,  that  there  have  been 
performers  equal  to  him  in  their 
own  respective  fortes  of  playing, 
yet  even  their  partisans  must  ac- 
knowledge there  never  existed  any 


for  change  and  diversity  in  his 
manner  of  copying  from  her  va- 
rious productions  ;  and,  as  if  she 
had  from  his  cradle  marked  hirn 
out  for  her  truest  representative, 


one  performer  that  came  near  his  she  bestowed  on  him  such  powers 

excellence   in   so  great  a  variety  of  expression  in  the  muscles  of  his 

of  parts.     Tragedy,  comedy,  and  face,  as  no  performer  ever  yet  pos- 

farce,  the  lover  and  the  hero,  the  sessed  ;  not  only  for  the  display  of 


jealous  husband  who  suspects  his 
wife's  virtue  without  cause,  and 
the  thoughtless  lively  rake  who 
attacks  it  without  design,  were  ail 
alike  open  to  his  imitation,  and  all 
alike  did  honour  to  his  execution. 
"Every  passion  of  the  human  breast 
seemed  subjected  to  his  powers  of 


a  single  passion,  but  also  for  the 
combination  of  those  various  con- 
flicts with  which  the  human  breast 
at  times  is  fraught;  so  that  in  his 
countenance,  even  when  his  lips 
were  silent,  his  meaning  stood  por- 
trayed in  characters  too  legible  for 
any  to  mistake  it.     In  a  word,  the 


•expression ;  nay,  even  time  itself  beholder  felt  himself  affected  he 

appeared  to  stand  still  or  advance  knew  not  how;  and  it  may  be  truly 

as  he  would  have  it.     Rage  and  said   of  him,    by  future  writers 

ridicule,  doubt  and  despair,  trans-  what  the   poet  has  said  of  Shak- 

port  and  tenderness,    compassion  speare,  that  in  his  acting,  as  in  the 

and  ccntempt,  love,  jealousy,  fear  tttker'-s  writing, 


26(5 


GAR 


**  His  powerful   strokes  presiding  truth 

impiess'd, 
"  And  unresisted    passion    storm'd   the 

breast." 

During  the  course  of  his  ma- 
nagement, the  public,  undoubt- 
edi\ ,  were  much  obliged  to  him 
for  his  indefatigable  labour  in  the 
conduct  of  the  theatre,  and  in  the 
pains  he  took  to  discover  and  gra- 
tify its  taste;  and,  though  the 
situation  of  a  manager  will  per- 
petually be  liable  to  attacks  from 
disappointed  authors  and  unde- 
serving performers  ;  yet,  it  is  ap- 
parent, from  the  barrenness  both 
ot  pfiys  and  players  of  merit  which 
for  some  years  appeared  at  the 
opposite  theatre,  that  this  gentle- 
man could  not  have  refused  accept- 
ance to  many,  of  either  kind,  that 
were  any  way  deserving  of  the 
town's  regard.  In  short,  it  does 
not  appear  that  this  is  the  age  of 
either  dramatic  or  theatrical  ge- 
nius ;  and  yet  it  is  very  apparent, 
that  the  pains  Mr.  Garrick  took 
in  rearing  many  tender  plants  of 
the  latter  kind,  added  several  va- 
luable performers  to  the  English 
stage,  whose  first  blossoms  were 
far  from  promising  so  fair  a  fruit 
as  they  afterwards  produced  :  and 
that,  among  the  several  dramatic 
pieces  which  made  their  first  ap- 
pearance on  the  theatre  in  Drury 
Lane,  there  are  very  few  whose 
authors  have  not  acknowledged 
themselves  greatly  indebted  to  this 
gentleman  for  useful  hints  or  ad- 
vantageous alterations,  to  which 
their  success  has  in  great  measure 
been  owing.  Add  to  this  care, 
the  revival  of  many  pieces  of  the 
more  early  writers ;  pieces  pos- 
sessed of  great  merit,  but  which 
had,  either  through  the  neglect  or 
ignorance  of  other  managers,  lain 
for  a  long  time  unemployed  and 
disregarded.    But  there  is  one  part 


GAR 

of  theatrical  conduct  which  ought 
unquestionably  to  be  recorded  to 
Mr.  Garrick's  honour,  since  the 
cause  of  virtue  and  morality,  and 
the  formation  of  public  manners, 
are  very  considerably  dependant 
on  it ;  and  that  is,  the  zeaf  with 
which  he  ever  aimed  to  banish 
from  the  sta^e  all  those  plays  which 
carry  with  them  an  immoral  ten- 
dency; and  to  prune  from  those 
which  do  not  absolutely  on  the 
whole  promote  the  interests  of 
vice,  such  scenes  of  licentiousness 
and  libertinism  as  a  redundancy  of 
wit  and  too  great  liveliness  of  ima- 
gination have  uiduced  some  of  our 
comic  writers  to  indulge  them- 
selves in,  and  to  which  the  sym- 
pathetic disposition  of  an  age  of 
gallantry  and  intrigue  had  given 
a  sanction.  The  purity  of  the 
English  stage  was  certainly  much 
more  fully  established  during  the 
administration  of  this  theatrical 
minister,  than  it  had  ever  been 
during  preceding  managements  : 
for  what  the  public  taste  had  itself 
in  some  measure  begun,  he,  by 
keeping  that  taste  within  its  pro- 
per channel,  and  feeding  it  with  a 
pure  and  untainted  stream,  seemed 
to  have  completed  ;  and  to  have 
endeavoured  as  much  as  possible  to 
keep  up  to  the  promise  made  in 
the  prologue  above  quoted,  and 
which  was  spoken  at  the  first  open- 
ing of  that  theatre  under  his  di- 
rection, viz. 

"  Bade  scenic  virtue  form  the  rising  age, 
"  And  truth  diffuse  her  radiance  from 
the  stage." 

His  superiority  to  all  others  in 
one  branch  of  excellence,  however, 
must  not  make  us  overlook  the 
rank  he  is  entitled  to  stand  in  as  to 
another  ;  nor  our  remembrance  of 
his  having  been  the  first  actor 
living,  induce  us  to  forget,  that  he 


267 


GAR 

was  far  from  being  the  last  writer. 
Notwithstanding  the  numberless 
and  laborious  avocations  attending 
on  his  profession  as  an  actor,  and 
his  station  as  a  manager,  yet  still 
his  active  genius  was  perpetually 
bursting  forth  in  various  little  pro- 
ductions both  in  the  dramatic  and 
poetical  way,  whose  merit  cannot 
but  make  us  regret  his  want  of 
time  for  the  pursuit  of  more 
extensive  and  important  works. 
He  is  well  known  to  have  been 
the  author  of  the-  following  ; 
some  of  which  are  originals,  and 
the  rest  translations  or  alterations 
from  other  authors,  with  a  design 
to  adapt  them  to  the  present  taste 
of  the  public : 

1.  The  Lying  Valet.  C.  Svo. 
1741. 

2.  Miss  in  her  Teens ;  or,  The 
Medley  of  Lovers.     F.    Svo.  1/4/". 

3.  Lethe.     D.  S.     Svo.  1749. 

4.  Romeo  and  Juliet.  T.  altered. 
12mo.  1/50. 

5.  Every  Man  in  his  Humour. 
C.     8vo.  1752. 

6.  The  Fairies.    O.    8vo.  1755. 
/.   The  Tempest.  O.  8vo.  1756. 

8.  Catharine  and  Petruchio.  F. 
8vo.  1756. 

9.  Lilliput.  D.  E.    8vo.  1757. 

10.  The  Male  Coquette  ;  or, 
Seventeen  Hundred  and  Fifty-seven. 
F.    8vo.  175/. 

1 1 .  Flonzel  and  Perdita.  D.  P. 
1756.     Printed  Svo.  1758. 

12.  Gamesters.  C.  altered.  8vo. 
1758. 

13.  Isabella;  or,  The  Fatal  Mar- 
riage.    P.  altered.     Svo.  1758. 

14.  The  Guardian.      C.     Svo. 

15.  Harlequin's  Invasion.  Pant. 
1759.     N.  P. 

16.  The  Enchanter;  or,  Love 
and  Magic.   M.  D.     8vo.  1760. 

17-  Cymbeline.  T.altered,  l2mo. 


GAR 

18.  The  Farmer's  Return  from 
London.     I.     4to.  1 762. 

19.  AMidsum  merN  ight'sDream. 
Altered.     Svo.  1703. 

20.  The  Clandestine  Marriage. 
C.     Svo.  I76t>. 

21.  The  Country  Girl.  C.  al- 
tered.    Svo.  1766. 

22.  Neck  or  Nothing.  F.  Svo. 
176fj. 

23.  Cymon.     D.R.    Svo.  1 767, 

24.  A  iJeep  behind  the  Curtain; 
or,  The  New  Rehearsal.  F.  Svo. 
1767. 

25.  Ode  on  dedicating  a  Statue 
to  Shakspeare.     4to.  17B9. 

2(5.  The  Jubilee.  D.  E.  1769. 
N.  P. 

27.  King  Arthur;  or,  The  Bri- 
tish Worthy.  D.  O.  altered.  Svo. 
1770. 

28.  Hamlet.  T.  altered.  1771. 
N.  P. 

29.  The  Institution  of  the  Garter. 
Svo.  1771. 

30.  The  Irish  Widow.  C.  Svo. 
1772. 

31.  The  Chances.  C.  altered. 
Svo.  1773. 

32.  Albumaxar.  C.  altered.  Svo. 
1773. 

33.  Alfred.  T.  altered.  8vo. 
1773. 

34.  A  Christmas  Tale.  D.  E. 
Svo.  1774. 

35.  The  Meeting  of  the  Company. 
Prel.     1774.     N?P. 

36.  Bon  Ton ;  or,  High  Life 
above  Stairs.     F.     Svo.  1775. 

37.  May  Day.  M.F.  Svo.  17/5. 
3S.  The  Theatrical  Candidates. 

Mus.  Prel.     8vo.  1775. 

39.  Lined s  Travels.  Int.  1767. 
12mo.  1785. 

He  also  altered  Mahomet,  and 
some  other  pieces. 

Besides  these,  Mr.  Garrick  was 
the  author  of  an  ode  on  the  death 
of  Mr.  Pelham,  which,  in  less  than 
six  weeks,  raq  through  four  edi- 


268 


GAS 

tions.  The  prologues,  epilogues, 
and  songs,  which  he  wrote,  are 
almost  innumerable,  and  possess  a 
considerable  degree  of  happiness 
both  in  conception  and  execution. 
It  would,  however,  be  in  vain  to 
attempt  anv  enumeration  of  them 
in  this  place;  and  it  is  indeed  the 
less  necessary,  as  we  cannot  doubt 
but  some  one  of  his  surviving 
friends  will  take  care  to  give  a 
complete  edition  of  his  works,  in 
such  a  manner  as  will  do  honour 
to  his  memory. 

Garter,  Thomas.  We  meet 
with  no  mention  of  this  gentleman 
among  any  of  the  writers,  excepting 
only  in  Coxeter's  MS.  notes,  where, 
without  any  further  account,  a  very 
old  piece,  published  about  the  mid- 
dle of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign,  is 
ascribed  to  a  person  of  this  name. 
The  piece  itself  is  entitled  The 
Commody  of 

Susanna.  1578. 
Gascoigne,  George.  This 
gentleman  flourished  in  the  begin- 
ning of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign. 
He  was  born  at  Walthamstow  in 
the  Forest,  in  Essex,  and  had  a 
taste  of  each  of  our  famous  uni- 
versities before  he  was  entered  of 
Grays  Inn  ;  for  his  volatile  temper 
made  him  soon  leave  one  of  these 
delightful  places  for  another,  and 
all  of  them  for  the  army;  where 
his  behaviour  was  so  signally  brave, 
as  certainly  to  entitle  him  to  the 
motto  he  took  of  Tann  Marti  quam 
Mercurio. 

In  this  station  he  was  for  some 
time  in  various  cities  of  Holland; 
after  which  he  went  to  France,  in 
order  to  see  and  study  the  manners 
of  that  court,  where  he  happened 
to  meet  with  a  Scottish  lady,  whom 
he  fell  in  love  with  and  married. 
At  length,  being  tired  of  this  ram- 
bling way  of  life,  he  came  back 
to  England,  and  returned  to  Grays 


GAS 


Inn,  where  he  composed  most  of 
his  various  pieces ;  and  afterwards 
to  his  native  place ;  where,  says 
Coxeter,  he  died  and  was  buried, 
in  his  middle  age,  anno  15/8. 
There  is,  however,  an  old  piece 
in  verse  (in  black  letter  and  with- 
out date,  4to.  Loi.don),  entitled 
A  Remembrance  of  the  well-im- 
ployed  Life  and  godly  End  of  George 
Gascoigne,  Esq.  who  deceased  at 
Stamford  in  Lincolnshire,  the  Jth 
of  Oct.  1 577.  The  Report  of  George 
Whetstones,  Gentleman,  an  Eye- 
witness of  his  godly  and  charitable 
End  in  this  World. 

The  dramatic  pieces  he  has  left 
behind  him  are  four  in  number; 
their  names  as  follow  : 

1.  The  Supposes.  C.  translated 
from  Ariosto.     4to.  1566. 

2.  Jocasta.  T.  translated,  in 
conjunction  with  Francis  Kinwell- 
marshe,  from  Euripides.  4to.  15/5. 

3.  The  Glass  of  Government.  T. 
C.    4to.  1575. 

4.  The  Princely  Pleasures  of 
Kcnelworth  Castle.  M.  4to.  1587- 

His  works,  including  the  first. 
three,  were  printed  in  4to.  B.  L. 
1575,  with  this  title,  The  Posies 
of  George  Gascoigne,  Esq.  corrected 
and  augmented  by  the  Author;  and 
again  with  The  Princely  Pleasures 
of  Kenel  worth,  A  Masque  for  Lord 
Montacvte,  and  other  pieces,  in  4to. 
B.L.  15S7. 

Besides  these  pieces,  he  wrote 
several  other  things  in  verse  and 
prose,  and  at  that  early  time  was 
esteemed  not  only  a  person  of  po- 
liteness, eloquence,  and  under- 
standing, but  also  the  best  love 
poet  extant;  nor  were  his  dra- 
matic works  held  in  any  trifling 
estimation.  Among  the  rest  of" 
his  pieces  is  a  satire,  called  The 
Steel  Glass,  printed  in  1576)  to 
which  is  prefixed  the  author's  pic- 
ture in  a/mour,  with  a  ruff  and  a 


269 


GAY 

arge  beard.  On  his  right  hand 
hang  a  musqnet  and  bandoliers,  on 
his  left  stand  an  ink  horn  and 
some  books,  and  underwritten  is 
the  motto  above  mentioned,  Tarn 
Marti  quam  Mercurio.  No  very 
striking  mark,  however,  of  the  au- 
thor's modesty  ! 

This  gentleman  was  also  author 
of  "  A  delicate  Diet  for  daintie 
"  mouthde  Drnnkardes  ;  wherein 
"  the  fowle  Abuse  of  common 
*'  Carousing  and  Quaffing  with 
f*  hartie  Draughtes  is  honestlie  ad- 
"  monished.  By  George  Gascoyne, 
"  Esq.  Imprinted'at  London,  by 
"  Richard Jhones,  Aug.  22, 1576." 
l2mo. 

"  The  Droome  of  Domesday  ; 
"  wherein  the  Frailties  and  Mi- 
"  series  of  Man's  Life  are  lively 
"  portrayed,  and  learnedly  set 
"  forth.  Decided  as  appeareth  in 
"  the  Page  next  following.  Trans- 
"  lated  and  collected  by  George 
"  Gascoigne,  Esquier.  Imprinted 
"  at  London,  by  Gabriel  Cawood, 
"  dwelling  in  Paules  Churchyard, 
"  at  the  Signe  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
«  1576."     4  to. 

He  was,  as  Mr.  Headley  says, 
<e  a  writer  whose  mind,  though  it 
f*  exhibits  few  marks  of  strength, 
"  is  not  destitute  of  delicacy  ;  he 
*.'  is  smooth,  sentimental,  and  har- 
"  monious.  Lord  Gray  of  Wilton 
**  was  his  patron  ;  from  whom  he 
"  acknowledges  to  have  received 
"  particular  favours." 

Gataker,  Thomas.  This  au- 
thor has  the  addition  of  Gent,  an- 
nexed to  his  name  in  the  title- 
page  of  the  only  dramatic  piece 
of  his  writing  that  we  are  ac- 
quainted with.     It  is  called 

The  Jealous  Clown ;  or,  The 
Lucky  Mistake.     Op.     Svo.  1730. 

Gay,  John.  This  gentleman, 
descended  from  an  ancient  family 
in  Devonshire,,  was  born  at  Exeter, 


GAY 

and  received  his  education  at  the 
free-school  of  Barnstaple,  in  that 
county,  under  the  care  of  Mr. 
William  Rayner.  He  was  bred  a 
mercer  in  the  Strand  ;  but  having 
a  small  fortune  independent  of 
business,  and  considering  the  at- 
tendance on  a  shop  as  a  degra- 
dation of  those  talents  which  he 
found  himself  possessed  of,  he 
quitted  that  occupation,  and  ap- 
plied himself  to  other  views,  and 
to  the  indulgence  of  his  inclina- 
tion for  the  Muses.  Mr.  Gay  was 
born  in  the  year  168S.  In  1712 
we  find  him  secretary,  or  rather 
domestic  steward,  to  the  Dutchess 
of  Monmouth ;  in  which  station 
he  continued  till  the  beginning  of 
the  year  1714,  at  which  time  he 
accompanied  the  Earl  of  Clarendon 
to  Hanover,  whither  that  noble- 
man was  dispatched  by  Queen 
Anne. 

In  the  latter  end  of  the  same 
year,  in  consequence  of  theQueen's 
death,  he  returned  to  England, 
where  he  lived  in  the  highest  esti- 
mation and  intimacy  of  friendship 
with  many  persons  of  the  first  dis- 
tinction both  in  rank  and  abilities. 
He  was  even  particularly  taken 
notice  of  by  Queen  Caroline,  then 
Princess  of  Waies,to  whom  he  had 
the  honour  ot  reading  in  manu- 
script his  tragedy  of  The  Captives; 
and  in  1726  dedicated  his  Fables, 
by  permission,  to  theDuke  of  Cum- 
berland. From  this  countenance 
shown  to  him,  and  numberless  pro- 
mises made  him  of  preferment,  it 
was  reasonable  to  suppose,  that  he 
would  have  been  genteelly  provided 
for  in  some  office  suitable  to  his 
inclination  and  abilities.  Instead 
of  which,  in  172/,  he  was  offered 
the  place  of  gentleman-usher  to 
one  of  the  youngest  princesses  ; 
an  office  which,  as  he  looked  on  it 
as  Bather  an  indignity  to  a  man 


2;o 


CAY 

whose  talents  might  have  been  so 
much  better  employed,  he  thought 
proper  to  refuse  ;  and  some  pretty 
warm  remonstrances  •.ere  made  on 
the  occasion  bv  his  sincere  friends 
and  zc  lous  ;  itroos  the  Duke  and 
Dutchess  of  '.'.'}  -nsberry,  which 
terminated  in  those  two  noble  per- 
sonages withdrawing  from  court  :n 
disgust. 

Mr.  Gay's  dependence  on  the 
promise-  of  the  great,  and  the  dis- 
appointments he  met  with,  he  has 
figuratively  described  in  his  fa'oie 
of  The  Hare  with  many  Friends. 
However,  the  very  extraordinary 
success  he  met  with  from  public 
encouragement  made  an  ample 
amends,  both  with  respect  to  satis- 
faction and  emolument,  for  those 
private  disappointments  :  for,  in 
the  season  of  1727-8,  appeared  his 
Beggar's  Opera,  the  success  of 
which  was  not  only  unprecedented, 
but  almost  incredible.  It  had  an 
uninterrupted  run  in  London  of 
sixty-three  nights  in  the  nr<=c  sea- 
son, and  was  renewed  in  t;>e  en- 
suing one  with  equal  approbation. 
It  spread  into  all  the  great  towns 
of  England;  was  played  in  many 
places  to  the  thirtieth  and  fortieth 
time,  and  at  Baih  and  Bristol  fifty; 
made  its  progress  into  Wales,  Scot- 
land, and  Ireland,  in  which  last 
place  it  was  acted  for  twenty-four 
successive  nights,  and  last  of  all 
it  was  performed  at  Minorca.  Nor 
was  the  fame  of  it  confined  to  the 
reading  and  representation  alone, 
for  the  card-table  and  the  drawing- 
room  shared  with  the  theatre  and 
the  closet  in  this  respect;  the  ladies 
carried  about  the  favourite  songs  of 
it  engraven  on  their  fan-mounts, 
and  screens  and  other  pieces  of 
furniture  were  decorated  with  the 
same.  Miss  Fenton,  who  acted 
Polly,  though  till  then  perfectly 
«b»cure,  became  all  at  once  the 


GAY 

idol  of  the  town  ;  her  pictures  were 
engraven  and  sold  in  great  num- 
bers ;  her  life  written  ;  books  of 
letters  and  verses  to  her  published  ; 
and  pamphlets  made  of  even  her 
very  savings  and  jests ;  nay,  she 
herself  was  received  to  a  station  in 
consequence  of  which  she,  before 
her  death,  attained  the  highest  rank 
a  female  subject  can  acquire,  be- 
ing married  to  the  Duke  of  Bolton. 
In  shortj  the  satire  of  this  piece 
was  so  striking,  so  apparent,  r.nd 
so  perfectly  adapted  to  the  taste  of 
all  degrees  of  people,  that  it  even 
for  that  season  ovi  threw  the  Ita- 
lian opera,  that  Dagon  of  the  mo- 
bility and  gen*  it,  which  had  so 
long  seduced  them  to  idolatry,  and 
which  Dennis,  by  the  labours  and 
outcries  of  a  whole  life,  and  pinny 
other  writers,  by  the  force  of  rea- 
son and  reflection,  had  in  vain 
endeavoured  to  drive  from  the 
throne  of  public  taste.  Yet  the 
Herculean  exploit  did  this  little 
piece  at  once  bring  to  its  comple- 
tion, and  for  some  time  recalled 
the  devotion  of  the  town  from  an 
adoration  of  mere  sound  and  show, 
to  the  admiration  of,  and  relish  for, 
true  satire  and  sound  understand- 
ing. 

The  profits  of  this  piece  were  so 
very  great,  both  to  the  author  and 
Mr.  Rich  the  manager,  that  it 
gave  rise  to  a  quibble,  which  be- 
came frequent  in  the  mouths  of 
many,  viz.  That  it  had  made  Rich 
gay,  and  Gay  rich  ;  and  we  have 
heard  it  asserted,  that  the  author's 
own  advantages  from  it  were  not 
less  than  two  thousand  pounds. 
In  consequence  of  this  success, 
Mr.  Gay  was  induced  to  write  a 
second  part  to  it,  which  he  entitled 
Polly.  But,  owing  to  thedisgust  sub- 
sisting between  him  and  the  court, 
together  with  the  misrepresenta- 
tions made  of  hinij  as  having  been 


2-71 


GAY 

the  author  of  some  disaffected  li- 
bels and  seditious  pamphlets,  a 
charge  which,  however,  he  warmly 
disavows  in  his  preface  to  this 
opera,  a  prohibition  of  it  was 
sent  from  the  Lord  Chamberlain, 
at  the  very  time  when  every  thing 
was  in  readiness  for  the  rehearsal 
of  it.  This  disappointment,  how- 
ever, was  far  from  being  a  loss  to 
the  author ;  for,  as  it  was  after- 
wards confessed,  even  by  his  very 
best  friends,  to  be  in  every  respect 
infinitely  inferior  to  the  first  part, 
it  is  more  than  prpbable,  that  it 
might  have  failed  of  that  great 
success  in  the  representation  which 
Mr.  Gay  might  promise  himself 
from  it;  whereas  the  profits  arising 
from  the  publication  of  it  after- 
wards in  quarto,  in  consequence 
of  a  very  large  subscription,  which 
this  appearance  of  persecution, 
added  to  the  author's  great  per- 
sonal interest,  procured  for  him, 
were  at  least  adequate  to  w  hat. 
could  have  accrued  to  him  from  a 
mod<-r  ate  run,  had  it  been  repre- 
senied.  He  afterwards  new  wrote 
The  Wife  of  Bath,  which  was  the 
last  dramatic  piece  by  him  that 
made  its  appearance  during  his 
life ;  his  orjera  of  Achilles,  the 
comedy  of  the  Distrest  Wife,  and 
his  farce  of  1  he  Rehearsal  at' Goat- 
ham,  being  brough'  on  the  stage 
or  published  atter  his  death.  What 
other  works  he  executed  in  the 
drani3iic  way  v.  I  be  s^en  in  the 
ensuing  list,  and  their  several  suc- 
cesses in  the  respective  accounts  of 
them  in  the  second  and  third  vo- 
lumes of  this  work.  Their  titles 
are  as  follow  : 

1.  The  Mohocks.  T.  C.  F.    8vo. 
1712. 

2.  The  IVife  of  Bath.    C.    4to. 
1713. 

3.  The  What  d'  ye  call  it.  T.  C. 
P.  F.     8vo.  1/15. 


G  A  Y 

4.  Three  Hours  after  Marriage*. 
C.     8vo.  1/17. 

5.  Dione.     P.     4to.  1720. 

6.  The  Captives.    T.    8vo.  1724. 

7.  The   Beggars    Opera.     4to. 
and  8vo.  172s. 

8.  Polly.     O.     4to.  1729. 

9.  The  Wife  of  Bath.    C.   [Re- 
written.] 8vo.  1730. 

10.  Aiis   and   Galatea.      P.  O. 
Svo.  1/32.      [Ser.  ]     8vo.  17S2. 

11.  Achilles.     O.     Svo.  1733. 

12.  The  List  rest  Wife.  C.   Svo. 
17-43. 

13.  The  Rehearsal  at  Goatham. 
F.     Svo.  1754. 

Most  of  the  catalogues  ascribe 
to  him  a  piece,  called 

No  Fools  like  Wits, 
which  is  no  more  th  in  a  republi- 
cation of  Wright's  Female  J'irtun- 
soes,  intended  to  expose  Ciboev's 
plagiarism  in  The  Refusal  Besides 
the.-e,  Mr.  Gay  wrote  many  very 
valuable  pieces  in  verse  :  among 
which  Ins  Trivia  ;  or,  The  Art  of 
ivalk'mg  the  Streets  of  London  ; 
though  one  of  his  first  po-tical  at- 
tempts, is  far  from  hieing  the  least 
considerable ;  but,  is  among  his 
dramatir  works,  his  Beggar  s  Opera 
did  at  first,  and  perhaps  ever  will, 
stand  as  an  unrivalled  masterpiece, 
so,  among  his  poetical  works,  his 
Falles  hold  the  same  rank  ot  esti- 
mation :  the  latter  having  been 
almost  as  universally  read  as  the 
former  was  represented,  and  both 
equally  admired.  It  would  there- 
fore be  superfluous  here  to  :u'A 
any  thing  further  to  these  self- 
reared  monuments  of  his  fame  as 
a  poet.  As  a  man,  he  appears  to 
have  been  morally  amiable.  His 
disposition  was  sweet  and  affable, 
his  temper  generous,  and  his  con- 
versation agreeable  and  entertain- 
ing. He  had  indeed  one  foible, 
too  frequently  incident  to  men  of 


272 


G  E  I 

great  literary  abilities,  and  which 
subjected  him  at  times  to  incon- 
veniencies,  which  otherwise  he 
needed  not  to  have  experienced, 
viz.  an  excess  of  indolence,  which 
prevented  him  from  exerting  the 
full  force  of  his  talents.  He  was, 
however,  not  inattentive  to  the 
means  of  procuring  an  independ- 
ence, in  which  he  would  probably 
have  succeeded,  had  not  his  spirits 
been  kept  down  by  disappoint- 
ments. He  had,  however,  saved 
several  thousand  pounds  at  the  time 
of  his  death,  which  happened  at 
the  house  of  the  Dukeand  Dutchess 
of  Queensberry,  in  Burlington  Gar- 
dens, in  December  1/32.  He  was 
interred  inWestminster  Abbey,  and 
a  monument  erected  to  his  me- 
mory, at  the  expense  of  his  afore- 
mentioned noble  benefactors,  with 
an  inscription  expressive  of  their 
regards  and  his  own  deserts,  and 
an  epitaph  in  verse  by  Mr.  Pope ; 
but,  as  both  of  them  are  still  in 
existence,  and  free  of  access  to 
every  one,  it  would  be  imperti- 
nent to  repeat  either  of  them  in 
this  place. 

Gay,  Joseph.  This  name  is 
only  a  fictitious  one,  yet  we  could 
not  avoid  giving  it  a  place  here  j 
as  otherwise  some  readers  might 
be  misled,  by  the  finding  it  pre- 
fixed to  a  dramatic  piece,  entitled 

Tlie  Confederates.  F.  Svo.  1717. 
For  an  explanation  of  it,  however, 
see  Breval,  Capt.  John  Durant. 

Gayton,  Edmund,  was  author 
of 

Charity  Triumphant. 
See  Pageants,  in  Vol.  III.  p.  liq, 
No.  (27.) 

Geffrey,  John,  was  the  au- 
thor of  a  very  ancient  play,  still 
remaining  in  manuscript,  entitled 

The  Bugbears.     C. 

Geisweiler,    Maria,    is   the 


GEN 

translator   from    the   German   of 
four  dramas,  viz. 

1.  Crime  from  Ambition.  P. 
Svo.  1799. 

2.  Joanna  of  Montfaucon.  Dr. 
Rom.     Svo.   [17P9.] 

3.  The  Noble  Lie.  D.  Svo.  1 799. 

4.  Poverty  and  Nobleness  of 
Mind.     P.     8vo.  1799. 

Gentleman,  Francis,  was 
born  in  York  Street,  Dublin,  the 
23d  of  October  J72S,  and  received 
his  education  in  that  city,  where 
he  was  schoolfellow  with  the  late 
Mr.  Mossop,  the  tragedian.  At 
the  age  of  fifteen,  he  obtained  a 
lieutenant's  commission  in  the  same 
regiment  wherein  his  father  was 
major ;  but  making  an  exchange 
to  a  new-raised  company,  he  was 
dismissed  the  service  by  his  regi- 
ment being  reduced  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  war  in  1748.  On 
this  event  he  indulged  his  inclina- 
tion for  the  stage,  and  accordingly 
appeared  at  Smock  Alley  theatre, 
Dublin,  in  the  character  of  Aboan, 
in  the  play  of  Oroonoho.  Not- 
withstanding an  unconsequential 
figure  and  uncommon  timidity,  he 
says,  he  succeeded  bevond  his  most 
sanguine  expectations;  but  having 
some  property,  and  hearing  that  a 
legacy  had  been  left  him  by  a  re- 
lation, he  determined  to  come  to 
London,  where,  it  appears,  he  dis- 
sipated the  little  fortune  he  pos- 
sessed. He  then  engaged  to  per- 
form at  the  theatre  in  Bath,  and 
remained  there  some  time.  From 
thence  he  went  to  Edinburgh,  and 
afterwards  belonged  to  several 
companies  of  actors,  at  Manches- 
ter, Liverpool,  Chester,  and  other 
places.  Growing  tired  of  a  public 
life,  he  settled  at  Malton,  a  mar- 
ket-town about  twenty  miles  from 
York,  where  he  married  and  had 
some  expectation  of  being  provided 


273 


GEN 

fou  by  the  Marquis  of  Granby,  to 
whom  he  was  recommended  by  a 
gentleman  who  had  known  his 
father.  With  this  hope  he  re- 
moved to  London ;  but  soon  had 
the  mortification  to  find  all  his 
prospects  clouded  by  the  sudden 
death  of  his  patron.  In  1J70  he 
performed  at  the  Haymarket  un- 
der the  management  of  Mr.  Foote, 
and  continued  with  him  three  sea- 
sons ;  when  he  was  discharged, 
"  at  a  time  of  peculiar  embarrass- 
"  ment  to  the  manager."  Mr. 
Gentleman  afterwards  returned  to 
Ireland,  where  he  died  on  the  21st 
of  Dec.  1/84,  in  George  Lane, 
Dublin  ;  having  for  the  last  seven 
years  of  his  life  struggled  under 
sickness  and  want  to  an  uncommon 
degree  of  misery.  From  his  own 
account,  he  seems  to  have  had  no 
great  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  his 
success,  either  as  an  actor  or  au- 
thor. Speaking  of  himself  in  the 
latter  profession,  he  says,  "  I 
"  heartily  wish  I  had  been  fated 
*'  to  use  an  awl  and  end,  sooner 
*'  than  the  pen  ;  for  nothing  but  a 
"  pensioned  defender  of  govern- 
"  ment,  a  sycophant  to  managers, 
"  or  a  slave  to  booksellers,  can  do 
*'  any  thing  more  than  crawl." 
He  is,  the  author  of, 

1.  Sejanus.     T.     8vo.  1751. 

2.  Oroonoko.    T.  altered.  12mo. 
1760. 

3.  The   Stratford  Jubilee.     C. 
8vo.  1769. 

4.  The   Sultan ;    or,   Love  and 
Fame.     T.     8vo.  1770. 

5.  The    Tobacconist.     C.     8vo. 

1771. 

6.  Cupid's  Revenge.   Past.    Svo. 
1772. 

7.  The  Pantheonitts.  D.E.  8vo. 
1773. 

8.  The  Modish  Wife.    C.    Svo. 
1774. _ 

He  is  also  author  of  the  follow- 

VOL.  j. 


G  I  F 

ing  pieces,  none  of  which  have 
been  published  : 

1.  Osman.     T.    [About  1751.] 

2.  Zaphira.     T.     1754. 

3.  Richard  11.  T.  altered.  1754. 

4.  The  Mentalist.   D.  S.    1759. 

5.  The  Fairy  Court.   Int.   1/tiu. 

6.  The  Coxcombs.     F.     1771  - 

7.  Orpheus  and  Eundice.  Ser. 
Op.  1733. 

He  was  author  of  The  Dramatic 
Censor,  1  vols.  svo.  1770;  and  had 
the  discredit  of  being  editor  of  the 
worst  edition  that  ever  appeared  of 
any  English  author  :  we  mean 
Shakspeare,  as  printed  by  Mr.  Bell, 
1774,  1775. 

Geoffrey,  schoolmaster  (after- 
wards abbot)  of  Dunstable,  wrote 
a  play  to  be  acted  by  his  scholars, 
and  which  is  called  by  Mr.  Warton 
the  first  drama  exhibited  in  Eng- 
land.    It  was  entitled 

The  Play  of  St.  Catherine. 

Gibson,  Francis,  collector  of 
customs  at  Whitby,  is  author  of 
one  dramatic  piece,  viz. 

Streanshall  Abbey.  P.  Svo. 
1800. 

Giffard,  Mr.  an  actor,  and 
long  the  manager  of  the  old  the- 
atre in  Goodman's  Fields ;  where 
he  met  with  same  success,  not* 
withstanding  the  scheme  was  aban- 
doned by  the  original  proprietor, 
Mr.  Odell,  who,  for  building  and 
opening  this  theatre,  met  with  a 
great  opposition  from  many  re- 
spectable merchants  and  citizens, 
and  even  from  the  clergy,  who 
preached  against  it.  Mr.  Giffard 
also  purchased  Mr  Booths  share 
at  Drury  Lane  about  -he  year  1733, 
which  he  sold  again  to  Mr.  Fleet- 
wood, being  concerned  in  a  new 
and  magnificent  playhouse,  built 
by  subscription,  in  Goodman's 
Fields,  notwithstanding  the  ill  for- 
tune which  attended  the  other  the- 
atre at  this  place,  and  opened  Oc- 

T 


274 


G  I  F 

tober  2,  1732,  with  the  play  of 
King  Henry  1 V.  Here,  however, 
Mr.  Gitf'ard  did  not  long  remain. 
By  the  advice  of  his  friends,  he 
took  the  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  the- 
atre, which  was  then  deserted 
through  the  departure  of  Rich's 
company  to  the  new  playhouse  at 
Covent  Garden  in  1733 ;  and, 
having  opened  this  theatre  in  1/35, 
continued  manager  of  it  two  years. 
Still  he  retained  his  interest  in  the 
house  at  Goodman's  Fields,  to 
which  he  afterwards  returned ; 
and,  under  his  management,  Mr. 
Garrick  made  his  first  appearance 
in  London.  During  Mr.  Garrick's 
performances  this  theatre  flourish- 
ed; but,  on  his  departure,  Giffard 
and  his  wife  made  the  best  terms 
they  could  with  Fleetwood,  the 
proprietor  of  Drury  Lane. 

This  gentleman  produced, though 
anonymously, 

Merlin,  &c.    D.  O.    8vo.  1 73(5. 

Gifford,  William,  a  native 
of  Ashburton,  in  Devonshire,  was 
born  in  1757.  His  father,  a  care- 
less and  improvident  man,  when 
he  died,  left  his  mother  with  very 
scanty  resources  for  the  mainte- 
nance of  two  children ;  and  she 
followed  him  to  the  grave  in  about 
a  twelvemonth,  when  our  author, 
the  eldest  child,  was  not  thirteen. 
In  an  account  of  his  own  life,  pre- 
fixed to  his  translation  of  Juvenal, 
Mr.  Gifford  informs  us,  that  a  man, 
whom  he  mentions  only  under 
the  initial  C  ,  but  who  was 
his  godfather,  seized  all  the  mo- 
ther's little  property,  for  money 
alleged  to  have  been  advanced  to 
her.  Such,  however,  was  the  good 
opinion  which  his  mother's  con- 
duct and  character  had  excited, 
that  the  man  who  had  thus,  per- 
haps legally,  but  certainly  in  de- 
fiance of  humanity,  possessed  him- 
self of  her  property,  thought  bim- 


G  I  F 

self  bound  to  pay  some  regard  to 
her  offspring.  The  younger  son 
was  sent  to  the  almshouse,  and, 
after  having  been  bound  out  ap- 
prentice, died  in  a  few  years. 
William  was  again  sent  to  school. 
He  grew  fond  of  arithmetic,  and 
began  to  be  distinguished  by  his 

master.   The  unfeeling  C was 

soon,  however,  tired  of  the  ex- 
pense, and  attempted  to  engage 
him  in  the  drudgery  of  the  plough, 
which  he  actually  drove  for  one 
day,  and  would  drive  no  more. 
Poor  William  was  then  intended, 
as  he  could  write  and  cypher,  for 
a  storehouse  at  Newfoundland.  He 
was,  however,  oddly  rejected,  be- 
cause he  was  "  too  small,"  and 
was  placed  on  board  a  coaster,  at 
Brixton,  when  little  more  than 
thirteen.  In  this  hard  and  pe- 
rilous situation,  his  constitution 
naturally  unfit  for  labour,  per- 
forming the  duties  of  his  calling, 
and  every  menial  office  in  the  ca- 
bin, with  a  love  of  literature,  and, 
no  doubt,  the  consciousness  of 
powers  qualified  for  a  better  fate, 
he  remained  about  a  year.  The 
little  ragged  sailor-boy  had,  it 
seems,  excited  the  pity  of  the 
women  who  travelled  from  Brix- 
ton to  Ashburton  with  fish ;  and 
the  people  of  the  latter  place  began 
to  murmur  against  his  unfeeling 
godfather,  who  had  reduced  him 
to  such  an  abject  condition.    This 

general  ill-will  against  C ,  the 

result  of  unadulterated  humanity, 
induced  him  to  send  for  poor  Wil- 
liam, whom  he  placed  again  at 
school.  Here  his  progress  wai 
rapid,  and  he  was  in  a  few  months 
at  the  head  of  the  school.  And 
now  he  began  to  indulge  a  hope 
that,  as  his  former  schoolmaster 
was  aged  and  infirm,  if  the  old 
man  should  hold  out  three  or  four 
years  longer,    he  might   by  that 


275 


G  I  F 


G  I  F 


period  be  qualified   for   the   ma- 
nagement of  the  school  himself, 
and  be   appointed  the  successor. 
This  hope   he  communicated    to 
C       ■  ,  who  treated  it  with  con- 
tempt, and  bound  him  apprentice 
to  a  shoemaker.  With  this  master, 
detesting  his  business,  he  worked 
some  years;  and,  though  little  able 
to  indulge  his  bent  towards  litera- 
ture, he  still  cherished  the  hope  of 
succeeding  to  the  direction  of  the 
school,  when  his  term  of  appren- 
ticeship should  expire.   Being  neg- 
ligent of  his  business,  he  sunk  by 
degrees  into  the 'common  drudge 
of  the  family.     At  this  period  his 
poetical    powers   began    to   break 
into  action.    A  few  satirical  verses 
dropped   from  him,  which  raised 
him  into  some  reputation  in  the 
neighbourhood,  much  against  the 
inclination  of  his  master,  who  was 
afraid  lest  some  of  his  customers 
should    be   hitched    into   rhyme. 
The  schoolmaster  at  length  died, 
and  all  the  hopes  of  young  Gifford 
were  blasted,  by  the  appointment 
of  another  to  the  vacancy.     After 
this  disappointment,  he  continued 
to  drudge  on  in  sullen  discontent, 
till  his  twentieth  year ;   when   his 
little  poetical  trifles  attracted  the 
notice  of  Mr.  William  Cookesley, 
"  a  name  (says  Mr.  Gifford)  ne- 
"  ver   to  be  pronounced   by  me 
"  without  veneration."    Now  our 
author's  fate   arrived  at   a   crisis, 
which   was    to    lead    to   a    more 
prosperous  course  of  events.     Mr. 
Cookesley,  wjth  discernment  and 
benevolence,    espoused  the  cause 
of  the  young  man,  collected  his 
literary  crudities,  and  raised  a  sub- 
scription for  the  author,  expressly 
with  a  view  to  purchase  the  re- 
mainder of  his  apprenticeship,  and 
to  maintain  him  a   few  months, 
.while    he    improved    himself    in 
writing    and    English     grammar. 


After  this- arrangement,    so   dili- 
gently did  he  cultivate  his  talents, 
that  in  two  years  his  master  pro- 
nounced him  fit  for  the  university. 
Mr.  Cookesley's  zeal  to  serve  him 
remained   unabated;    and,  by  his 
recommendation,  Thomas  Taylor, 
Esq.    of  Den  bury,   procured  Mr, 
Gilford  the  office  of  Bib.  Lect.  at 
Exeter  College,  Mr.  Cookesley  un- 
dertaking to  provide  for  him  till  he 
had  taken  a  degree.     About  this 
time  he   began    to   translate   the 
Satires  of  Juvenal,  and  had  made 
such  a  progress  in  the  work,  that 
his  friends  advised  him  to  under- 
take a  version  of  the  whole,  and 
publish  it  by  subscription.    To  this 
scheme  he  assented.    The  amiable 
and  persevering  friendship  of  Mr. 
Cookesley  earnestly  supported  the 
plan,  and  opened  a  subscription  at 
Ashburton,    Mr.  Gifford    himself 
proposing  another  at  Exeter  Col- 
lege.    Mr.  Cookesley,  though  no 
great  Latinist,  undertook  to  revise 
the  work,  and   possessed  all  the 
requisite  taste  and  judgment  for 
the  task.     Unhappily,  soon  after, 
our  author  was  deprived  of  this 
excellent   friend,    who   died  sud- 
denly.    Having  made  a  consider- 
able  progress  in    the   work,  Mr. 
Gifford  was  induced   to  abandon 
it,  and  to  return  the  subscription- 
money   which   he   had    received, 
contrary  to  the  advice  of  Mr.  Ser- 
vington  Savery,  who  was  disposed 
to  render  him  every  friendly  at- 
tention.    At  length 

"  A  lucky  chance,  that  oft  decides  the 

fate 
"  Of  mighty  monarchs,  then  decided" 

that  of  our  author.  He  had  con- 
tracted an  acquaintance  with  a 
gentleman  at  Oxford,  to  whom  he 
was  permitted  to  address  letters, 
while  the  latter  was  in  London, 
under  cover  to  the  late  Lord  Gros- 
-X  2 


276 


G  I  L 


G  I  L 


venor.     Happening  to    omit    the 
direction  to  his  correspondent,  in 
one  of  the  enclosed  letters,  that 
nobleman  thought  it  was  intended 
for  himself,  opened  it,  and  hence 
becoming  acquainted  with  our  au- 
thor's situation  and  talents,  invited 
him  to  town,  took  him  under  his 
protection,  appointed  him  precep- 
tor to  his  son,  Lord  Belgrave,  and 
finally  placed  him  in  ease  and  in- 
dependence.     Our   author's   first 
avowed  work  was  The  Baviad,  a 
free  and  spirited  imitation  of  Per- 
sius,  which  had  a  powerful  effect 
on  the  vitiated  taste  of  the  times, 
in  routing  the  whole  tribe  of  poet- 
asters of  the  Delia  Crusca  school. 
In   his  next  work,  The  Mceviad, 
he  pursued  the  same  purpose,  and 
effectually  prevented  that  fantastic 
breed  from  ever  rising  into  notice 
again.    Our  author  has  also  shown 
great  political  talents,  in  a  work 
entitled    The   Anti-Jacobin    Exa- 
miner, of  which  he  is  understood 
to  have  been  the  editor,  and  the 
chief  literary  support.     His  trans- 
ition of  Juvenal  is  characterized 
■by  genius  and  learning. 

In  the  biographical  preface  to 
this  translation,  Mr.  Gitford  men- 
tions his  having  written  two  tra- 
gedies, which  were  put  into  the 
hands  of  some  theatrical  manager; 
but  says,  that  he  has  never  seen 
them  since  :  their  titles  were, 
1.  The  Oracle. 
.2.  The  Italian. 

Gildon,  Charles.  This  gen- 
tleman was  born  at  Gillingham, 
near  Shaftesbury,  in  Dorsetshire, 
in  the  year  1665.  His  parents 
and  family  were  all  of  the  Romish 
persuasion,  and  consequently  en- 
deavoured to  instil  the  same  prin- 
ciples into  our  author ;  but  in 
vain  ;  for  no  sooner  was  he  ca- 
pable of  reasoning,  than  he  rejected 
-that  church's  tenets.     His  father 


was  a  member  of  the  society  of 
Grays  Inn,  and  had  suffered  con- 
siderably in  the  royal  cause.  Mr. 
Gildon  received  the  first  rudiments 
of  his  education  at  the  place  where 
he  was  born  ;  but  at  no  more  than 
twelve  years  of  age,  his  parents 
sent  him  over  to  Douay  in  Hai- 
nault,  and  entered  him  in  the 
English  college  of  secular  priests 
there,  with  a  view  of  bringing 
him  up  likewise  to  the  priesthood; 
but  all  to  no  purpose  ;  for,  during 
a  progress  of  five  years  study  there, 
he  only  found  his  inclinations 
more  strongly  confirmed  for  a  quite 
different  course  of  life. 

At  nineteen  years  of  age  he  re- 
turned to  England  ;  and,  when  he 
was  of  age,  and  by  the  entrance 
into  his  paternal  fortune,  which 
was  not  inconsiderable,  rendered 
in  every  respect  capable  of  enjoy- 
ing the  gaieties  and  pleasures  of 
this  polite  town,  he  came  up  to 
London ;  where,  as  men  of  genius 
and  vivacity  are  too  often  deficient 
in  the  article  of  economy,  he  soon 
spent  the  best  part  of  what  he  had ; 
and,  that  he  might  be  sure,  as 
Lord  Townley  says,  never  to  mend 
it,  he  crowned  his  other  impru- 
dences by  marrying  a  young  lady 
without  any  fortune,  at  about  the 
age  of  twenty-three;  thereby  add- 
ing to  his  other  incumbrances  that 
of  a  growing  family,  without  any 
way  improving  his  reduced  cir- 
cumstances. 

During  the  reign  of  King  James 
H.  he  dedicated  a  great  deal  of 
time  to  the  study  of  the  religious 
controversies  which  then  so  strong- 
ly prevailed ;  and  he  declares,  in 
some  of  his  writings,  that  it  cost 
him  above  seven  years  study  and 
contest,  and  a  very  close  applica- 
tion to  books,  before  he  could 
entirely  overcome  the  prejudices 
of  his  education :  for,  though  he 


277 


G  I  L 


G  I  L 


had  never  given  credit  to  the 
tenets  of  the  church  of  Rome, 
nor  could  ever  be  brought  to  em- 
brace the  ridiculous  doctrine  of 
her  infallibility,  yet,  as  he  had 
been  taught  an  early  reverence  to 
the  priesthood,  and  a  submissive 
obedience  to  their  authority,  it 
was  a  long  time  before  he  assumed 
courage  to  think  freely  for  himself, 
or  declare  what  he  thought. 

A  transition  from  the  extreme  of 
bigotry  to  that  of  infidelity,  is  a  cir- 
cumstance not  so  uncommon  as  to 
create  any  surprise,  when  we  ob- 
serve that  it  was  exactly  Mr.  Gil- 
don's  case.  In  lb'93,  he  ushered 
into  die  world  The  Oracles  of  Rea- 
son, written  by  Charles  Blount, 
Esq.  after  that  author's  unhappy 
end,  with  a  -pompous  eulogium 
and  a  defence  of  self-murder.  He 
was  afterwards,  however,  as  Dr. 
Leland  observes  (voL.i.  View  of 
Deistical  Writers,  p.  43),  "  con- 
"  vinced  of  his  error ;  of  which 
"  he  gave  a  remarkable  proof,  in 
"  a  good  book  which  he  published 
"  in  1705,  intituled  The  Deist's 
"  Manual ;  or,  A  Rational  En- 
"  auiry  into  the  Christian  Religion; 
"  the  greater  part  of  which  is 
"  taken  up  in  vindicating  the  doc- 
"  trines  of  the  existence  and  at- 
"  tributes  of  God,  his  providence 
"  and  government  of  the  world, 
11  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and 
"  a  future  state." 

Having,  as  before  observed, 
greatly  injured  his  fortune  by 
thoughtlessness  and  dissipation,  he 
was  now  obliged  to  consider  of 
some  method  for  the  retrieving  it, 
or  indeed  rather  for  the  means  of 
subsistence  :  and  he  himself  can- 
didly owns,  in  his  essays,  that  ne- 
cessity (the  general  inducement) 
was  his  first  motive  for  venturing 
to  be  an  author  ;  nor  was  it  till  he 
had  arrived  at  his  two-and-thirtieth 


year,  that  he  made  any  attempt  iiv 
the  dramatic  way. 

He  died  on  Sunday  the  12th  of 
Jan.  1723-4  5  nor  can  we  give  a 
better  summary  of  his  literary  1  1a- 
racter,  than  by  mentioning  what 
was  at  the  time  said  of  him  in 
Boyer's  Political  State,  vol.  xxvii. 
p.  102,  where  he  is  said  to  have 
been  "  a  person  of  great  litera- 
"  ture,  but  a  mean  genius  ;  who, 
ft  having  attempted  several  kinds 
"  of  writing,  never  gained  much 
"  reputation  in  any.  Among  other 
'*  treatises,  he  wrote  the  English 
"  Art  of  Poetry,  which  he  had 
"  practised  himself  very  unsuc- 
"  cessfully  in  his  dramatic  per- 
"  formances..  He  also  wrote  an 
"  English  grammar;  but  what  he 
"  seemed  to  build  his  chief  hopes 
"  of  fame  upon  was  his  late  cri- 
"  tical  commentary  on  the  Duke 
"  of  Buckingham's  Essay  on  Po- 
"  etry  ;  which  last  piece  was  per- 
"  used  and  highly  approved  by  his 
"  Grace." 

His  dramatic  pieces  are  as  fol- 
low : 

1.  The  Roman  Brides  Revenge. 
T.     4to.  1697. 

2.  Phaeton  ;  or,  The  Fatal  Di- 
vorce.    T.     4to.  I69S. 

3 .  Measure  for  Measure  ;  or, 
Beauty  the  best  Advocate.  C.  4  to. 
1700. 

4.  Love's  Victim ;  or,  The  Queen 
of  Wales.     T.     4to.  1/01. 

5.  The  Patriot;  or,  The  Italian 
Conspiracy.  T.  4to  1703.  Also 
published  under  the  title  of 

The  Italian  Patriot.    Same  date. 
He  likewise  wrote  two  critiques 
in  a  drama t;c  form,  entitled, 

1 .  A  Comparison  between  the  two 
Stages.    8vo.  1702. 

2.  A  New  Rehearsal;  or,  Bayes 
the  Younger.     8vo.  1714. 

None   of  them  met  with   any 
great  success  3  and  indeed,  though 
T  3 


2;s 


G  L  A 

they  do  not  totally  want  merit, 
yet,  by  too  strong  an  emulation 
of  the  style  of  Lee,  of  whom  he 
was  a  great  admirer,  but  without 
being  possessed  of  that  brilliancy 
of  poetical  imagination  which 
frequently  atones  for  the  mad 
flights  of  that  poet,  Mr.  Gildon's 
verse  runs  into  a  perpetual  train 
of  bombast  and  rant. 

He,  about  two  years  after  Mrs. 
Behn's  death,  brought  on  the 
stage,  with  some  few  alterations  of 
his  own,  a  comedy  which  that  lady 
had  left  behind  her,  entitled 

The  Younger  Brother ;  or,  The 
Amorous  Jilt.     4to.  1696. 

Though  not  a  man  of  capital 
genius  himself,  yet  he  was  a  pretty 
severe  critic  on  the  writings  of 
others ;  and,  particularly,  the  free- 
dom he  took  in  remarking  upon 
Mr.  Pope's  Rape  of  the  Lock  ex- 
cited the  resentment  of  that  gen- 
tleman, who  was  never  remark- 
able for  any  great  readiness  to  for- 
give injuries,  to  such  a  height, 
that  he  has  thought  proper  to  im- 
mortalize his  name,  together  with 
that  of  the  snarling  Dennis,  in  his 
celebrated  poem  The  Dunciad. 

Gillum,  William,  was  a  clerk 
in  the  East  India  Company's  ser- 
vice ;  a  situation  which,  on  his 
marriage,  he  resigned.  He  died 
10th  Jan.  1797*  having  published 
a  volume  of  poems,  Svo.  1787, 
which  contained 

What  will  the  World  say  ?  F. 
Glapthokne,  Henry.  This 
author  lived  in  the  reign  of  Charles 
I.  and  Winstanley  calls  him  one 
of  the  chiefest  dramatic  poets  of 
that  age.  Though  that  commend- 
ation, however,  is  far  beyond  what 
his  merits  can  lay  claim  to,  yet 
we  cannot  but  allow  him  to  have 
been  a  good  writer ;  and  though 
his  plays  are  now  entirely  laid 
aside,  yet,  at  the  time  they  were 


GLO 
written,  they  met  with   consider-? 
able  approbation  and  success.  They 
are  nine  in  number,  and  their  ti- 
tles as  follow : 

.1.  Albertus  Wallenslein.  T.  4to. 
1634. 

2.  Argalus  and  Parthenia.  Tr. 
Com.    4to.  I639. 

3.  The  Ladies'  Privilege.  \C.  4to. 
16-10. 

4.  The  Hollander.  C.  4to.l640. 

5.  Wit  in  a  Constable.  C.  4to. 
1640. 

6.  The  Paraside  [Parricide,  we 
suppose]  ;  or,  Revenge  for  Honour. 
N.  P. 

7.  The  Vestal.     Tr.     N.  P. 

8.  The  Noble  Tryal.  Tr.C.  N.P. 

9.  The  Dutchess  of  Fernandina. 
Tr.     N.  P. 

Glover,  Richard.  This  very 
ingenious  author  was  brought  up 
in  the  mercantile  way,  in  which 
he  made  a  conspicuous  figure , 
and  by  a  remarkable  speech  that 
he  delivered  in  behalf  of  the  mer- 
chants of  London,  at  the  bar  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  about 
f.he  year  1740,  previous  to  the 
breaking  out  of  the  Spanish  war, 
acquired,  and  with  great  justice, 
the  character  of  an  able  and  steady 
patriot ;  and  indeed,  on  every  oc- 
casion, he  showed  a  most  perfect 
knowledge  of,  joined  to  the  most 
ardent  zeal  for,  the  commercial 
interests  of  this  nation,  and  an 
inviolable  attachment  to  the  wel- 
fare of  his  countrymen  in  general, 
and  that  of  the  city  of  London  in 
particular.  In  1751,  having,  in 
consequence  of  unavoidable  losses 
in  trade,  and  perhaps,  in  some 
measure,  of  his  zealous  warmth 
for  the  public  interest,  to  the  neg- 
lect of  his  own  private  emolu- 
ments, somewhat  reduced  his  for- 
tunes, he  condescended  to  stand 
candidate  for  the  place  of  cham- 
berlain of  the  city  of  London,  in 


2/9 


G  L  O 


opposition  to  SirThomas  Harrison ; 
but  lost  his  election  there,  though 
by  no  very  great  majority. 

From  the  time  of  Mr.  Glover's 
misfortunes  in  trade,  he  lived  in 
obscuritv,  known  only  to  his 
friends,  and  declining  to  take  any 
active  part  in  public  affairs.  At 
length,  having  surmounted  the 
difficulties  of  his  situation,  he 
again  relinquished  the  pleasures  of 
retirement,  and  in  the  parliament 
which  met  in  Ijdl  was  elected 
member  for  Weymouth.  He  af- 
terwards stood  forward  on  several 
occasions,  in  a  manner  highly  ho- 
nourable to  himself,  and  advan- 
tageous to  the  public. 

In    the   belles    Ictlres   he    also 
made    no   inconsiderable    figure; 
and  in  that  view  it  is  that  we  have 
occasion  to  consider  him  in  this 
work.     Mr.  Glover  very  early  de- 
monstrated a  strong  propensity  to, 
and  genius  for,  poetry ;    yet  his 
ardour  for  public,  and  the  hurry 
necessarily  attendant  on  his  private, 
affairs,  so  far  interfered  with  that 
inclination,  that  it  was  some  years 
before  he  had  it  in  his  power  to 
finish  an  epic  poem,  which  he  had 
begun  when  young,  entitled  Le- 
onidas  ;   the  subject  of  which  was 
the  gallant  actions  of  that  great 
general,  and  his  heroic  defence  of, 
and  fall  at,  the  pass  of  Thermopylae. 
Of  this  piece,  however,  the  pub- 
lic were  so  long  in   expectation, 
and  had  encouraged  such  extrava- 
gant ideas  of  it,  that  although  on 
its  publication  it  was  found  to  have 
very  great  beauties,  yet  the  ardour 
of  the  lovers  of  poetry  soon  sunk 
into  a  kind  of  cold  forgetfulness 
with  regard  to  it,  because  it  did 
not  possess  more  than  the  narrow 
limits  of  the  design  itself  would 
admit  of,  or  indeed  than  it  was  in 
the   power  of  human  genius   to 
execute.     His   poetical   abilities, 


G  O  D 

therefore,  lay  for  some  years  dor- 
mant 3  till  at  length  he  favoured 
the  world  with  twodramatic  pieces, 
called, 

1.  Boadicea.     T.     8vo.  1/53. 

2.  Medea.T.4toA76lj  Svo.1762. 
Mr.  Glover  also  wrote  a  sequel 

to  his  Medea ;  but  as  it  required 
scenery  of  the  most  expensive 
kind,  it  never  was  exhibited.  We 
hear,  indeed,  that  it  was  approved 
by  Mrs.  Yates,  the  magic  of  whose 
voice  and  action  in  the  first  part 
of  the  same  piece,  produced  as 
powerful  effects  as  any  imputed  by 
Greek  or  Roman  poets  to  the  cha- 
racter she  represented.  This  piece 
is  called, 

3.  Jason.  T.  Svo.  1799.  [Never 
pUUished.] 

Mr.  Glover  died  in  affluent  cir- 
cumstances, 25th  November  I7S5, 
aged  74. 

Godfrey,   Thomas,    was    the 
author  of  the   first  English  play 
produced  in  America.      He   was 
born  in  Philadelphia,  in  the  year 
1/36.    His  father  was  a  glazier,  to 
whom  the  invention  of  the  very 
useful  and    famous  sea-quadrant, 
called  Hadley's,  has  been  ascribed. 
Our  author  lost  his  father  early ; 
and,  being  left  to  the  care  of  re- 
lations, he  was  placed  at  an  Eng- 
lish school,  where  he  received  a 
common  education  in  his  mother- 
tongue,  without  any  other  advan- 
tage whatever.    He  is  said  to  have 
discovered  an    inclination   to   be- 
come a  painter ;    but  those  who 
had  the  charge  of  him  not  having 
the  most  honourable  idea  of  that 
profession,  or  opinion  of  its  uti- 
lity, placed   him   with    a  watch- 
maker, with  whom  he  served  the 
usual  period,  devoting  all  his  lei- 
sure hours  to  the  cultivation  of  his 
poetical  talents. 

Disliking     the    trade    he    was 
brought  up  to,  he  quitted  itj  and 
T4 


280 


GOD 

procured  himself  to  be  recom- 
mended to  a  lieutenant's  commis- 
sion in  the  Pennsylva  dan  forces, 
raised  in  the  year  1758  for  the 
expedition  against FortDuQuesne; 
in  which  station  he  continued  until 


GOD 

Norfolk.  A  schoolmaster  in  the 
neighbourhood  gave  him  the  first 
rudiments  of  education ;  after  which 
young  Godwin  was  removed  to 
Norwich,  and  placed  under  the 
care  of  a  private  tutor.  From  thence 


the  end  of  the  campaign,  when    he  went  to  the  dissenters'  college 


the    troops   were    disbanded.     At 
the  succe  ding  spring  he  was  set- 
tled as  a  lactor  in  North  Carolina, 
where  he  continued   three  years ; 
but,  on  the  death  of  his  employer, 
he  returned  to  Philadelphia,  and 
soon  after  went  as  super-cargo  to  the 
island  of  New  Providence ;   where 
meeting    with     little    encourage- 
ment, he  returned  to  North  Caro- 
lina j  and  in  a  few  weeks  after  his 
arrival,  going  on  horseback  in  a 
very  hot  day  into  the  country,  it 
is  imagined,  being  unused  to  the 
exercise,  and  of  a  corpulent  habit, 
that  the  heat  overcame  him  ;  for, 
the  night  following,  he  was  seized 
with  a  violent  vomiting  and  a  ma- 
lignant fever,  which  put  a  period 
to  his  life  on  the  3d  of  August 
1763,  in  the  2/th  year  of  his  age. 
His  character  is  represented  by 
his  biographer  in  a  very  respectable 
light :   "  His  sweet,  amiable  dis- 
**■  position  (says  he),  his  integrity 
"  of  heart,  his  engaging  modesty 
"  and  diffidence  of  manners,  his 
"  fervent  and  disinterested  love  for 
*'  his  friends,  endeared  him  to.all 
"  those  who  shared  his  aequaint- 
"  ance,    and   have    stamped   the 
"  image  of  him  in  indelible  cha- 
"  racters    on    the    hearts    of    his 
"  mere  intimate  friends." 

After  his  death,  in  1765,  a  vo- 
lume of  his  poems  was  printed  at 
Philao :jphia,  in  which  was  con- 
tained 

The  Prince  of  Parthia.    T.  4to. 
Godwin,  William,  is  the  son 
of  Mr.  John   Godwin,    who   was 
minister  of  a  dissenting  congrega- 
tion at  Guestwick,    a  village   in 


at  Hoxton,  near  London,  where 
he  remained  five  years  under  the 
tuition  of  Drs.  Kippis  and  Rees. 

On  his  leaving  the  college,  in 
1778,  he  entered  on  the  office  of 
a  dissenting  minister;  in  which 
he  continued  four  years,  residing 
chiefly  at  Stowmarket,  in  Suffolk, 
where  he  had  a  congregation.  In 
17S2,  he  determined  on  com- 
mencing author  by  profession,  and 
removed  to  London,  where  he  em- 
ployed himself  for  about  ten  years, 
chiefly  in  obscure  and  temporary 
labours. 

At  the  latter  end  of  1792,  or 
the  beginning  of  1793,  Mr.  God- 
win published  his  Political  Justice, 
4to.     In  1795,  came  out  a  second 
edition,    in  2  vols.  Svo.  ;    and  a 
third  in  1797-    His  next  work  was 
a  popular  novel,  called  Caleb  Wil- 
liams, published  in  179-1 5   reprint- 
ed in  1795,  and  again  in  1797-     m 
1/97  :1ls°  appeared,  The  Enquirer, 
a  volume  of  miscellaneous  essays; 
and  it  was  early  in  this  year  that 
Mr.  Godwin   married  Mrs.  Wol- 
stonecraft,  the  well-known  author 
of  The  Eights  of  Woman  ;  but  the 
1    mestic  happiness  which  he  had, 
no  doubt,  promised  himself  from 
this  union,  was  early  to  terminate: 
the  lady  dying  in  the  September 
of  the  same  year,     in  1799>  Mr. 
Godwin  published  a  novel,  called 
St.  Lea?/,  which  had  considerable 
success  ;  but  which  elicited,  from 
some  witty  wag,  an  amusing  coun- 
terpart, entitled    St.  Godwin.     In 
1803,  appeared  The  Life  of  Chau- 
cer, 2   vols.    4lo.     In   1805,    our 
author    gave  the   public  another 


281 


G  O  F 

novel,  in  3  vols,  called  Fleetwood; 
or,  The  New  Man  of  Feeling. 
But  his  title  to  a  place  in  these 
volumes  Mr.  Godwin  derives  from 
the  two  following  dramas  : 

1.  Antonio.     T.     8vo.  1800. 

2.  Faulkner.     T.     8vo.  J  808. 

Goffe,  Thomas.  This  gentle- 
man nourished  in  the  reign  of 
James  I.  He  was  born  in  Essex 
about  the  year  1592,  and  received 
his  first  introduction  to  learning  at 
Westminster  school ;  from  which 
place,  in  I6O9,  he  was  removed 
to  the  university  of  Oxford,  and 
entered  as  a  student  of  Christ- 
charch  College.  Here  he  com- 
pleted his  studies,  and,  by  the 
dint  of  application  and  industry, 
became  a  very  able  scholar,  ob- 
tained the  character  of  a  good  poet, 
and,  being  endowed  with  the 
powers  of  oratory,  was,  after  his 
taking  orders,  greatly  esteemed  as 
an  excellent  preacher.  He  had 
the  degree  of  bachelor  ot  divinity 
conferred  on  him  beiore  he  quit- 
tea  the  university,  nd;  in  the 
year  lt>23,  was  .  preferred  to  the 
living  of  East  Clandon,  in  Surrey. 
Here,  notwithstanding  he  had 
long  been  a  professed  enemy  to  the 
female  sex,  and  even  by  some 
esteemed  a  woman-hater,  he  un- 
fortunately tied  himself  to  a  wife, 
the  widow  of  his  predecessor,  who 
proved  as  great  a  plague  to  him  as 
it  was  well  possible  for  a  shrew  to 
be;  and  became  a  true  Xantippe 
to  our  ecclesiastical  Socrates,  who, 
being  naturally  of  a  mild  and  pa- 
tient disposition,  of  which  it  seems 
she  gave  him  daily  opportunities  for 
the  exercise,  was  unable  to  cope 
with  so  turbulent  a  spirit,  backed 
as  she  was  by  the  children  she  had 
had  by  her  former  husband.  In  a 
word,  it  was  believed  by  many, 
that  the  uneasiness  he  met  with  in 
domestic  life,  from  the  provoking 


G  O  F 


temper  of  this  home-bred  scourge, 
shortened  the  period  of  his  exist- 
ence, which  he  resigned  to  Him 
from  whom  he  had  received  it,  in 
July  1627,  being  then  only  thirty* 
five  years  of  age,  and  was  buried 
on  the  2/th  of  the  same  month  in 
his  own  parish-church. 

Mr.  Goffe  wrote  four  dramatic 
pieces,  which  met  with  consider- 
able applause,  but  were  none  of 
them  published  till  after  his  death. 
Their  names  are  as  follow  : 

1.  Baging  Turk.    T.    4to.  1631. 

2.  Courageous  Turk.  T.  4to. 
1632. 

3.  Orestes.     T.     4to.  1(533. 

4.  Careless  Shepherdess.  T.  C. 
4to.  I656. 

Towards  the  latter  part  of  his 
life  he  quitted  dramatic  writing, 
and  applied  himself  solely  to  the 
business  of  the  pulpit.  Some  of 
his  sermons  appeared  in  print.  He 
published  a  sermon,  entitled  De- 
liverance from  the  Grave,  preached 
at  St.  Mary's  Spital,  in  Easter 
week,  March  28,  lt>27 ;  on  the 
title-page  of  a  copy  of  which  ii  is 
asserted,  in  a  contemporary  hand 
in  MS.  that  he  was  revolted  to 
Popery  ;  and  on  this  fact  there  are 
large  reflection.')  in  Legenda  Lig- 
nea,  &c.  8vo.  1652. 

Philips  and  Winstanley  have  fa- 
thered a  comedy  on  this  author, 
called 

Cupid's  Whirligig, 
than  which  nothing  could  be  more 
opposite  to  his  genius.  Besides, 
the  true  author  of  that  pirce  has 
so  far  declared  himself,  as  to  have 
affixed  the  initial  letters  E,.  S.  to 
his  epistle  dedicatory,  which  is 
moreover  interlarded  with  such  a 
kind  of  ridiculous  unmeaning 
mirth,  as  could  never  have  fallen 
from  Mr.  Goffe,  who  was  a  man  of 
a  grave,  sedate  turn,  and  whose 
pen  never  produced  any  thing  but 


2S2 


G    '•  I 


what  was  perfectly  serious,  manly, 
and  becoming  his  character  as  a 
divine. 

Wood,  moreover,  has  attributed 
to  him,  but  indeed  with  a  quaere, 
a  tragedy,  called 

The  Bastard; 
which,  however,  Coxeter  has  given 
to  Cosmo  Manuche.     Langbaine 
and  Wood  also  erroneously  ascribe 
to  him 

Selimus  Emperor  of  the  Turks  ; 
which  was  originally  printed  in 
1594,  when  Goite  was  not  above 
two  years  old ! 

Goldixg,  Arthur.  An  au- 
thor who  lived  in  the  reign  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  and  translated 
many  classical  and  other  works,  by 
which  he  acquired  considerable 
reputation.  The  dedication  of  his 
Ovid  to  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  is 
dated  from  Berwick.  He  trans- 
lated, from  Theodore  Beza,  one 
dramatic  piece,  called 

Abraham's  Sacrifice.  T.  ISmo. 
1577- 

GoLDINGKAM,    WlLLIAM,    Was 

author  of  a  Latin  play,  called 

Herodes.     Trag.  N.  P. 

Goldsmith,  Francis.  This 
gentleman  lived  in  the  reign  of 
King  Charles  I.  He  was  the  son 
of  Francis  Goldsmith,  Esq.  of 
St.  Giles  in  the  Fields,  and  re- 
ceived the  earlier  parts  of  his 
education  at  Merchant  Taylors 
school,  under  Dr.  Nicholas  Guy  ; 
whence  he  was  removed,  in  the 
beginning  of  the  year  1629,  to 
the  university  of  Oxford,  where 
he  was  entered  a  gentleman-com- 
moner at  Pembroke  College,  but 
soon  after  translated  to  St.  John's  ; 
where  having  taken  a  degree  in 
arts,  he  returned  to  London,  and 
for  several  years  studied  the  com- 
mon law  in  Grays  Inn  ;  but  pro- 
bably, having  an  independent  for- 
tune, and  being  more  closely  at- 


GOL 
tached  to  other  kinds  of  learning, 
he  indulged  his  inclination,  and 
favoured  the  world  with  a  transla- 
tion, from  Hugo  Groups,  of  a  tra- 
gedy, or  sacred  drama,  entitled 

Sophompaneas.  Trag.  8vo.  N.D. 

Mr.  Goldsmith  died  at  Ashton, 
in  Northamptonshire,  Sept.  1655, 
and  was  buried  there ;  leaving  be- 
hind him  one  daughter,  named 
Catherine,  who  was  afterwards 
married  to  Sir  Henry  Dacres. 

Goldsmith,  Oliver,  was  born 
at  Eiphin,  in  the  county  of  Ros- 
common, in  Ireland,  November29. 
1728.  His  father,  the  Rev.  Charles 
Goldsmith,  had  four  sons,  of  whom 
Oliver  was  the  third.  He  was  in- 
structed in  the  classics  at  tjie  school 
of  Mr.  Hughes,  at  Edgeworths- 
town,  in  the  county  of  Long- 
ford ;  whence  he  was  removed  to 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  where 
he  was  admitted  a  sizar  on  the 
11th  of  June  1744.  At  the  uni- 
versity he  exhibited  no  specimen 
of  that  genius  which  distinguished 
him  in  his  maturer  years.  On  the 
27th  of  February  1749,  O.  S.  (two 
years  after  the  regular  time),  he 
obtained  the  degree  of  bachelor  of 
arts.  He  then  turned  his  thoughts, 
to  the  profession  of  physic;  and 
after  attending  some  courses  of 
anatomy  in  Dublin,  proceeded  to 
Edinburgh  in  the  year  1751, 
where  he  studied  the  several 
branches  of  medicine  under  the 
different  professors  in  that  univer- 
sity. Here,  however,  that  incau- 
tious spirit  of  benevolence,  which 
so  strongly  marked  his  life,  soon 
involved  him  in  difficulties.  Hay- 
ing imprudently  engaged  as  secu- 
rity, in  a  considerable  sum  of 
money,  for  a  fellow-student,  who, 
from  want  either  of  means  or  of 
principle,  failed  to  pay  the  debt, 
he  sought  to  shun  the  horrors  of 
imprisonment    by    a    precipitate 


2S3 


G  O  L 


GOL 


flight;  and  early  in  the  year  I  "54 
he  reached  Sunderland. 

In  this  place,  however,  he  had  not 
been  long  before  he  was  arretted, 
at  the  suit  of  Mr.  Barclay,  a  tailor 
in  Edinburgh,  the  person  to  whom 
he  had  imprudently  become  surety 
for  his  friend.  From  this  diffi- 
culty he  was  at  length  released  by 
the  kindness  of  Dr.  Sieigh  and 
Mr.  Laughlin  Machine,  whose 
friendship  he  probably  acquired  at 
the  College  of  Edinburgh.  He 
then  embarked  for,  Rotterdam, 
proceeded  to  Leyden,  where  he 
resided  about  a  year,  studying 
chemistry  and  anatomy,  and  after- 
wards visited  great  part  of  Flanders 
and  Brabant,  on  foot,  subsisting 
frequently  by  his  voluntary  per- 
formances on  the  German  flute  : 
his  learning,  we  are  told,  made 
him  a  welcome  guest  to  the  monks, 
and  his  pipe  to  the  peasants. 

After  passing  some  time  at 
Strasbourg  and  Louvain  (where  he 
obtained  the  degree  of  bachelor  in 
physic),  he  accompanied  an  Eng- 
lish gentleman  to  Berne  and  Ge- 
neva. On  his  arrival  at  the  latter 
place,  it  is  said,  he  was,  recom- 
mended as  a  proper  person  to  be 
travelling  tutor  to  a  young  man 
who  had  been  unexpectedly  left  .a 
considerable  sum  of  money  by  his 

uncle,  Mr.  S ,  a  pawnbroker, 

near  Holborn.  This  youth,  who 
had  been  articled  to  an  attorney, 
on  receipt  of  his  fortune,  deter- 
mined to  see  the  world ;  but,  on 
engaging  with  Goldsmith,  as  his 
preceptor,  made  a  proviso  that  he 
should  be  permitted  to  govern 
himself;  and  our  traveller  soon 
found  that  his  pupil  understood 
extremely  well  the  art  of  directing 
in  money  concerns,  for  avarice 
was  his  predominant  passion. 

During  Goldsmith's  continuance 
in    Switzerland,    he    assiduously 


cultivated  a  poetical  talent,  of 
which  he  had  given  some  promis- 
ing proofs  at  the  college  of  Edin- 
burgh ;  and  it  was  from  hence 
that  he  sent  the  first  sketch  (about 
200  lines)  of  his  poem  called  The 
Traveller,  to  his  brother  Henry,  a 
clergyman  in  Ireland,  who,  with 
a  beloved  wife,  was  living  in  re- 
tirement and  obscurity,  on  an  in- 
come of  forty  pounds  a  year. 

With  a  youth  of  a  disposition 
so  opposite  to  his  own,  as  it  ap- 
pears his  pupil  was,  it  will  not  be 
supposed    that    Goldsmith    could 
long  continue.      A  disagreement 
happened  on  their  arrival  in   the 
South  of  France,  where  the  young 
man  paid  him  such  part  of  his  sa- 
lary as   remained  due,   and  em- 
barked at  Marseilles  for  England. 
Our    wanderer   was   left   once 
more  upon  the  wide  world,  and 
encountered   numberless  difficul- 
ties, in  traversing  the  greater  part 
of  France;  whence,  his  curiosity 
being  gratified,  he  bent  his  course 
toward  England,    and   arrived  at 
Dover  in  the  winter  of  1 757-8. 
"When  he    reached    London,    his 
stock  of  cash  did  not  amount  to 
two  livres.     He  applied  to  several 
apothecaries,  in  the  hope  of  en- 
gaging himself  as  a  journeyman; 
but  his  awkward  appearance,  and 
broad  Irish  accent,    almost  every 
where  met  with  repulse  and  insult : 
at   length  a   chemist,    near   Fish 
Street  Hill,  struck  with  his  for- 
lorn condition,  and  the  simplicity 
of  his  manner,  employed  him  in 
his  laboratory,  where  he  remained 
till  he  learned  that  his  old  friend 
Dr.   Sleigh   was  in  town.      The 
worthy  Doctor  received  Goldsmith 
into  his  family,  and  undertook  to 
support  him   till  some  establish- 
ment could  be  procured.     Gold- 
smith, however,  unwilling  to  be 
a  burden  to  his  friend,  a  short 


2S4 


G  0  L 


G  O  L 


time  after  eagerly  embraced  an 
ofter  which  was  made  him,  to 
assist  the  late  Dr.  John  Milner,  a 
dissenting  minister  of  eminence, 
in  instructing  the  young  gentle- 
men of  the  academy  at  Peckham. 

It  was  during  the  time  of  his 
being  usher  at  Dr.  Milner's  that 
Goldsmith  commenced  author ; 
and  the  earliest  performance  of 
his,  now  known,  was,  The  Me- 
moirs of  a  Protestant,  condemned 
to  the  Gullies  of  France  for  his  Re- 
ligion. Written  by  himself.  Trans- 
lated from  the  Original,  just  pub- 
lished at  the  Hague,  by  James 
Willington;  175S,  two  volumes, 
12mo.  for  which  Mr.  Edward 
Dilly  paid  him  twenty  guineas. 

At  Dr.  Milner's  table,  sometime 
in  the  year  1^58,  he  happened  to 
meet  with  Mr.  Ralph  Griffiths,  the 
originator  and  proprietor  of  The 
Monthly  Review,  who  invited  him 
to  become  a  writer  in  that  work, 
and  offered  him  such  terms  as  our 
author  deemed  worth  acceptance  ; 
viz.  lodging,  board,  and  a  liberal 
salary.  By  a  written  agreement, 
this  engagement  was  to  last  for  a 
year ;  but  at  the  expiration  of 
seven  or  eight  months  it  was  dis- 
solved by  mutual  consent;  and 
Goldsmith  took  a  smoky,  mise- 
rable apartment,  in  Green  Arbour 
Court,  near  the  Old  Bailey,  im- 
mediately over  Breakneck  Steps, 
as  they  are  vulgarly  called  ;  where 
he  completed  a  work  that  he  had 
before  begun,  entitled,  An  Inquiry 
into  the  present  State  of  polite 
Learning  in  Europe.  This  was 
published  by  Dodsley  in  J/5p, 
and  obtained  its  writer  some  repu- 
tation. In  October,  of  the  same 
year,  he  began  The  Bee,  a  weekly 
publication,  of  which,  however, 
only  eight  numbers  were  printed. 
In  the  following  year  he  became 
known  to  Dr.  Smollett,  who  was 
then  editor  of  The  British  Maga- 


zine :  and  for  that  work  he  wrote 
most  of  those  essays  and  tales  which 
were  afterwards  collected  and  pub- 
lished in  a  separate  volume.  He 
also  contributed  occasionally  to 
The  Critical  Review  3  in  fact,  it 
was  the  merit  which  he  discovered 
in  criticising  a  despicable  transla- 
tion of  Ovid's  Epistles,  by  a 
schoolmaster,  and  his  Inquiry  into 
the  present  State  of  polite  Learning, 
that  first  introduced  him  to  the 
acquaintance  of  Dr.  Smollett,  who 
recommended  him  to  some  re- 
spectable booksellers,  by  whom 
he  was  afterwards  patronized. 
Among  these,  Goldsmith's  most 
fortunate  connexion  was  with  the 
celebrated  Mr.  John  Newbery,  of 
philanthropic  memory,  who  being 
a  principal  proprietor  of  The  Pub- 
lic Ledger,  engaged  him  at  a  sa- 
lary of  100/.  a  year  to  write  a 
periodical  paper.  Our  author  ac- 
cordingly undertook  a  series  of 
what  he  called  Chinese  Letters, 
which  were  afterwards  collected 
and  published  in  two  volumes, 
under  the  title  of  The  Citizen  of 
the  World ;  and  they  exhibit  strik- 
ing proofs  of  judgment,  wit,  and 
humour. 

On  embarking  in  this  undertak- 
ing, Goldsmith  quitted  his  hovel 
in  Green  Arbour  Court,  removed 
to  a  decent  apartment  in  Wine 
Office  Court,  Fleet  Street,  drop- 
ped the  plain  Mister,  dubbed  him- 
self Doctor,  and  was  afterwards 
commonly  known  and  addressed 
as  Dr.  Goldsmith.  Here  he  finish- 
ed his  Vicar  of  Wakefield ;  but  at 
the  time  of  its  completion  he  was 
much  embarrassed  in  his  circum- 
stances, and  very  apprehensive  of 
arrest  5  in  fact,  he  was  at  last  en- 
trapped by  the  following  artifice  : 
An  ingenious  limb  of  the  law, 
ycleped  a  bailiff",  being  apprised 
of  one  of  Goldsmith's  foibles  (a 
vanity  of  being  noticed  by  distill- 


235 


GOL 


guished  persons),  wrote  a  letter, 
stating  that  he  was  steward  to  a 
nobleman,  who  was  charmed  with 
reading  Goldsmith's  last  produc- 
tion, and  had  ordered  him  to  de- 
sire the  Doctor  to  appoint  a  place 
where  he  might  have  the  honour 
of  meeting  with  him,  to  conduct 
him  to  his  Lordship.  Poor  Gold- 
smith swallowed  the  bait,  and 
appointed  the  British  Coffee-house, 
to  which  he  was  accompanied  by 
his  friend  Mr.  Hamilton,  the 
printer  of  The  Critical  Review, 
who  in  vain  remonstrated  on  the 
singularity  of  the  application.  On 
their  entering  the  coffee-room,  the 
bailiff  paid  his  respects  to  Gold- 
smith, and  desired  that  he  might 
have  the  honour  of  immediately 
attending  him :  but  they  had 
scarcely  entered  Pall  Mall,  when 
the  officer  produced  his  writ.  Mr. 
Hamilton  generously  paid  the  mo- 
ney, and  rescued  his  critic  from 
incarceration. 

It  may  be  supposed,  however, 
that  Goldsmith  was  now  out  of 
cash.  He  sent  to  represent  his 
case  to  Dr.  Johnson,  with  whose 
acquaintance  he  had  been  some- 
time honoured  ;  and  Johnson  dis- 
posed of  the  MS.  of  his  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,  to  Mr.  Newbery,  for 
00/.  a  sum  (as  Goldsmith  used  to 
say)  which  he  had  been  so  little 
accustomed  to  receive  in  a  lump, 
that  he  felt  himself  under  the  em- 
barrassment of  Brazen  in  the  play, 
whether  he  should  build  a  priva- 
teer or  a  playhouse  with  the  mo- 
ney *.  But  though  the  money  was 
paid  to  him  at  the  time,  so  little 
reputation  had  he  then  acquired, 
that  the  book  was  not  published 
till  two  or  three  years  after,  when 
The  Traveller  had  fixed  his  fame. 
In  the  spring  of  the  year  1763, 
Goldsmith  took  lodgings  at  Ca- 
-  Recruiting  Offcer,  act  v.  scene  iii. 


GOL 

nonbury  House,  Islington,  where 
he  compiled,  or  revised  and  cor- 
rected, several  publications,  for  his 
patron  Mr.  Newbery;  particularly 
The  Art  of  Poetry,  2  vols.  12mo. 
and  a  Life  of  Nash,  8vo.  Here 
also  he  wrote  his  History  of  Eng- 
land, in  a  Series  of  Letters  from  a 
Nobleman  to  his  Son,  1  vols.  12mo. 
a  work  which  was  by  some  attri- 
buted to  the  Earl  of  Orrery,  but 
more  commonly  to  George  Lord 
Lyttelton  ;  and  what  is  rather  sin- 
gular, this  generally-received  opi- 
nion was  never  contradicted,  either 
directly  or  indirectly,  by  those 
noblemen  or  their  friends. 

In  the  year  17 64,  Goldsmith 
removed  his  abode  to  the  Inner 
Temple,  where  he  took  chambers 
in  the  upper  story  of  the  Library 
Staircase. 

He  was  still,  however,  not  much 
known,  except  among  the  book- 
sellers, till  the  year  1765,  when 
he  completed  and  published  The 
Traveller  ;  or,  A  Prospect  of  So- 
ciety ;  a  poem,  which,  as  we  have 
before  remarked,  he  had  begun  to 
write  while  he  was  in  Switzerland 5 
and  of  which  Dr.  Johnson  pro- 
nounced, "  that  there  had  not 
"  been  so  fine  a  poem  since  the 
"  time  of  Pope."  This  charming 
performance  procured  him  the 
friendship  of  Lord  Nugent,  after- 
wards Earl  of  Clare,  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  Mr.  Burke,  Mr.  Top- 
ham  Beauclerc,  Dr.  Nugent,  Mr. 
Langton,  &c.  &c.  ;  and  he  was 
elected  one  of  the  first  members  of 
"  The  Literary  Club,"  which  was 
just  then  instituted  by  Dr.  John- 
son, Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and  Mr. 
Burke. 

In  1765,  Goldsmith  published 
his  pathetic  ballad  of  The  Hermit, 
whicli  he  dedicated  to  the  Coun- 
tess (afterward  Dutchess)  of  Nor- 
thumberland, and  which  soon  be- 


265 


G  0  L 

came    popular    with   those    who 
could  appreciate  poetic  merit. 

Having  been  thus  successful  in 
the  several  walks  of  a  critic,  a  no- 
velist, and  a  moral  poet,  our  au- 
thor was  encouraged  to  try  his 
band  at  the  drama ;  and,  on  the 
2yth  of  January  1/68,  his  Good- 
■natured  Man  was  performed  for 
the  first  time  at  Covent  Garden 
Theatre.  It  kept  possession  of  the 
stage  nine  nights;  but  was  not 
received  with  that  general  appro- 
bation which  its  intrinsic  merit 
led  his  friends  to  expect.  By  the 
profits  of  his  three  third  nights, 
however,  and  the  sale  of  the  copy- 
right, he  netted  500/. 

With  this  money,  and  the  sav- 
ings made  from  the  produce  of  his 
Roman  History,  2  vols.  8vo.  and 
other  compilations  (which  he  used 
to  call  <:  building  of  books"),  he 
descended  from  his  attic  story,  on 
the  Library  Staircase,  Inner  Tem- 
ple, and  purchased  chambers  on 
the  first  floor  of  No.  2,  Brick 
Court,  Middle  Temple,  for  which 
he  gave  400/.  These  he  furnished 
in  rather  an  elegant  manner,  en- 
larged his  library,  and  commenced 
quite  the  man  of  lettered  ease  and 
consequence. 

At  the  establishment  of  the 
Royal  Academy  of  Fainting,  in 
17(5g,  Goldsmith  had,  by  the  re- 
commendation of  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds to  His  Majesty,  the  ho- 
norary professorship  of  history 
conferred  upon  him;  and  in  the 
spring  of  1770  his  beautiful  poem, 
The  Deserted  Village,  was  first 
published.  A  well-authenticated 
and  characteristic  anecdote  of  our 
author  has  been  related,  respecting 
this  poem.  Previous  to  its  publi- 
cation, the  bookseller  (the  late 
Mr.  Griffin,  of  Catharine   Street, 

rid)  had  given  him  a  note  for 
one    hundred    guineas,    for    the 


GOL 

copy  ;  which  Goldsmith  mention- 
ed some  hours  after  to  one  of  his 
friends,  who  observed,  that  it  was 
a  very  great  sum  for  so  short  a 
performance.  "  In  truth  (replied 
"  Goldsmith)  I  think  so  too ;  it 
"  is  nearly  five  shillings  a  couplet, 
"  which  is  much  more  than  the 
"  honest  man  can  afford;  and,  id- 
"  deed,  more  than  any  modern 
"  poetry  is  worth.  I  have  not 
"  been  easy  since  I  received  it ;  I 
"  will,  therefore,  go  back  and 
"  return  him  "his  note;"  which  he 
actually  did,  and  left  it  to  the  book- 
seller to  pay  him  according  to  the 
profits  produced  by  the  sale  of  the 
poem,  which  proved  to  be  very 
considerable,  and  at  least  equal  to 
the  first  douceur. 

In  1771  appeared  his  H' story  of 
England,  from  the  earliest  Times 
to  the  Death  of  George  II.  4  vols. 
Svo.  For  this,  Mr.  Thomas  Da- 
vies,  the  bookseller,  gave  him 
500/.  He  also  wrote  this  year  a 
Life  of  Parnell,  which  was  pre- 
fixed to  a  new  edition  of  his  poems. 
On  the  15th  of  March  1773, 
his  comedy  of  She  Stoops  to  Con- 
quer, or,  The  Mistakes  of  a  Night, 
was  performed  for  the  first  time 
at  Covent  Garden  Theatre.  Not- 
withstanding this  drama  is  in 
some  parts  rather  too  farcical,  and 
very  improbable,  it  had  a  surpris- 
ing run,  and  produced  to  Goldsmifh 
a  clear  profit  of  S00/.  In  return 
for  Mr.  Quick's  exertions  in  the 
part  of  Tony  Lumpkin,  Goldsmith 
is  said  to  have  reduced  Sedley's 
comedy  of  The  Grumbler  to  a 
farce  of  one  act ;  and  it  was  per- 
formed for  the  benefit  of  that  co- 
median on  the  8th  of  May.  The 
principal  character  of  this  petite 
piece  (the  Grumbler)  was  acted 
by  Mr.  Quick,  and  furnished  great 
entertainment,  especially  in  a  scene 
with  a  dancing-master,  who  insists 


2S7 


GOL 

upon  teaching  the  touchy  old  man 
to  dance  an  Allemande,  against  his 
inclination.  The  piece,  upon  the 
whole,  was  well  received  ;  but  it 
wants  incident,  and,  excepting  the 
parts  represented  by  Mr.  Quick 
and  Mr.  Saunders,  was  but  indif- 
ferently supported  in  the  per- 
formance. 

One  of  the  last  of  his  publica- 
tions, of  any  consequence,  was, 
An  History  of  t lie  Earth  and  Ani- 
mated Nature,  in  8  vols.  Svo. 
which  was  printed  in  177-L  and 
for  which  he  received  850/.  He 
had  at  this  time  ready  for  the  press 
The  Grecian  History,  from  the 
earliest  State  to  the  Death  of  Alex- 
ander the  Great;  which  was  after- 
wards printed  in  1  vols.  Svo.  He 
had  also  written  at  intervals,  about 
this  time,  his  Haunch  of  Venison, 
Retaliation,  and  some  other  little 
sportive  sallies,  which  were  not 
printed  till  after  his  death  :  Ret  i- 
liation,  indeed,  was  left  unfinish- 
ed. But,  though  his  receipts  had 
for  a  iong  time  been  very  consi- 
derable, yet  by  his  liberal  and 
indiscreet  benefactions  to  poor 
authors,  as  Purdon,  Pilkington, 
Hiffernan,  Lloyd,  &c.  and  poor 
Irishmen,  in  fact,  needy  adven- 
turers from  all  countries,  together 
with  an  unhappy  attachment  to 
gaming,  with  the  arts  of  which  he 
was  little  acquainted,  and  an  ha- 
bitual carelessness  as  to  money- 
matters,  he  became  much  em- 
barrassed in  his  circumstances, 
and,  in  consequence.,  uneasy,  fret- 
ful; and  peevish. 

To  this  mental  inquietude  was 
superadded  a  violent  strangury, 
with  which  he  had  been  some 
years  afflicted  j  and  this  at  length 
brought  on  a  sort  of  occasional 
despondency,  in  which  he  used  to 
express  hi*  great  indifference  about 
life.     A  nervous  fever  added  to 


GOL 

this  despondency,  which  induced 
him,  agains  t  ie  advice  of  his  phy- 
sicians, to  taK.e  so  large  a  portion 
of  James's  powder,  that  it  was 
supposed  to  have  contributed  to 
his  dissolution,  which  happened 
on  the  4th  of  April  1774,  after  an 
illness  of  ten  days. 

It  was  at  first  intended  by  his 
friends  to  bury  him  in  Westmin- 
ster Abbey ;  and  his  pall  was  to 
have  been  supported  by  the  late 
Marquis  of  LanSdowne,  Lord 
Louth,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  the 
Hon.  Topham  Beauclerc,  Mr. 
Burke,  and  Mr.  Garrick;  but  a 
slight  inspection  of  his  affairs 
showed  the  impropriety  of  incur- 
ring so  great  an  expense,  as  must 
have  been  consequent  on  such  a 
funeral.  He  was  therefore  pri- 
vately interred  in  the  Temple  bu- 
rial-ground, attended  by  Mr. Hugh 
Kelly,  Mr.  Havves,  the  Rev.  Jo- 
seph Palmer,  and  a  few  coffee- 
house acquaintances. 

A  marble  monument,  however, 
executed  by  Nollekens,  and  paid 
for  by  a  subscription  among  Gold- 
smith's friends,  has  been  placed  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  between 
those  of  the  Duke  of  Argyle  and 
of  Gay,  in  the  Poets'  Corner.  It 
is  a  large  medallion,  with  a  good 
resemblance  of  the  poet  in  profile, 
appropriately  embellished ;  and 
underneath  is  a  table  of  white 
marble,  bearing  the  following  in- 
scription, written  by  Dr.  Johnson: 

Olivarii  Goldsmith, 

Foetse,  Physici,   Historici, 

Qui  nullum  fere  scribendi  genus 

Non  tetigit ; 

Nullum  quod  teti^it  non  ornavit : 

Sive  Risusessent  movejidi 

Sive  Lacrymas, 

Affectuum  potens  at  lenis  Dominator: 

Ingenio  sublimis, — vividus,  versatilis, 

Oratione  grandis,  nitidus,  venustus; 

Hoc    Mcnumento    Memoriam    coiuit 

beda'jurr.  Atnor, 


2S3 


GOL 


Amicorum    Fides, 
Lectorum   \  cneratio. 

NutusinHibcinuFotneiaeLongfordiensis, 
In  Loco  cui  Nomen  Pallas, 

Nov.  XXIX.    MDCCXXXI  *. 

Eblanae    I.iteris     institutus, 

Obiic  1-ondini, 

April  iv.  mdcclxxiv. 

Which  may  be  Englished  thus  : 

By  the  Love  of    hi-;  Associates, 

The  Fidelity  of  his  Friends, 

And  the  Veneration  of  his  Re.iders, 

This  Monument  is  raised 

To  ;Fc  Meraoi;  of 

Ouvijk  Goldsmith, 

A  Poet,  a  Natural  Philosopher,  and 

an  Historian, 

Who  left  no  species  of  writing  untouched 

by  his  pen ; 

nor 

Touched  any  that  he  did  not  embellish  : 

Whether  smiles  or  tears  were  to  be 

excited, 

He  was  a  powerful  yet  gentle  master 

Over  che  ariections  ; 

Of  a  genius  at  once  sublime,  lively,  and 

Equal  to  every  subject: 

In  t  xpression  at  once  lofty, 

Elegant,  and  graceful. 

He  was  born  in  the  kingdom  of  Ireland, 

At  a  place  called  Pallas,  in  the  parish 

of  Forney, 

And  County  of  Longford, 

29th  Nov.  1731. 

Educated  at  Dublin, 

And  died    in'  London, 

4th  April  1774. 

It  now  only  remains  for  us  to 
recapitulate  tbe  few  dramatic  pieces 
of  which  he  was  the  author,  viz. 

1.  The.  Good-natured  Man.  C. 
8vo.   1768. 

2.  She  Stoops  to  Conquer ;  or, 
The  Mistakes  of  a  Night.  C.Svo. 
1773. 

3.  The  Grumbler.  F..1776.N.P. 
Dr.  Goldsmith's  poetical  works 

were  collected  by  Mr.  Evans, 
bookseller,  in  the  Strand,  and 
printed  in  2  vols.  Svo.  1780. 

*  This  was  a  mistake.  From  inform- 
ation communicated  by  his  family,  it  is 
ascertained  to  have  been  in  the  year 
1728.  The  place  of  his  birth  also  has 
been  mis-stated' in  this  inscription.  Our 
account  is  correct. 


G  O  M 

Goldsmith,  Mary.  Of  this 
lady,  we  only  know  that  the  fol- 
lowing dramas  are  ascribed  to  her 
pen  : 

1.  She  Lives!  Com.  1S03.  X.P. 

2.  Angelina.  CO.  1804.  N.P. 
Gomersai,, Robert.  Tbi 

tleman,  who  was  a  divine,  flou- 
rished in  the  reign  of  Charles  I. 
and  was  born  at  London  in  1(500, 
from  whence,  at  fourteen  years  of 
age,  he  was  sent  by  his  father  to 
Chrisl  Church  College,  in  Oxford, 
where,  soon  after  his  being  enter- 
ed, he  was  elected  a  student  on  the 
royal  foundation.  At  about  seven 
years  standing,  he  here  took  his 
degrees  of  bachelor  and  master  of 
arts ;  and  before  he  left  the  univer- 
sity, which  was  in  1627,  he  had 
the  degree  of  bachelor  of  divinity 
conferred  on  him.  He  was  some- 
time vicar  of  Thorncombe,  in 
Devonshire,  by  which  addition  he 
signed  some  verses,  prefixed  to 
Fuller's  Holy  War,  and  died  in 
1040.  It  has  been  stated,  that  he 
was  preferred  to  the  living  of 
Flower,  in  Northamptonshire;  and 
this  conjecture  was  probably  occa- 
sioned by  his  having  written  two 
poems  (to  be  seen  in  his  works) 
from  that  village,  in  1625.  Gomer- 
sai, however,  could  not  then  have 
been  rector  of  Flower ;  for  Dr. 
Leonard  Hutton  was  rector  from 
l6'01  to  l632,  when  he  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Dr.  Gardiner.  Gomer- 
sai was  accounted  a  good  preacher, 
and  printed  some  sermons  which 
were  well  esteemed.  As  a  devotee 
to  the  Muses,  he  published  seve- 
ral poems,  particularly  one,  called 
The  Levites  Revenge,  being  me- 
ditations, in  verse,  on  the  IQth 
and  20th  chapters  of  Judges  ;  and 
one  play,  which,  whether  it  was 
ever  performed  or  not  cannot  be 
ascertained.     Its  title  is 

Lodovick  Sforza-f  Duke  of  Mil- 
Ian.    Trag.  12mo.  J  63  2, 


289 


GOO 


GOO 


Goodall,  Thomas,  was  born 
at  Bristol,  in  the  year  1767,  and 
received  a  classical  education  under 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Thomas,  being  de- 
signed by  his  father  for  the  pro- 
fession of  the  law.  In  his  13th 
year,  however,  he  was,  on  some 
account,  ordered  to  remain,  du- 
ring a  vacation,  at  school  ;  and 
•whether  it  was  the  effect  of  a 
sudden  fit  of  caprice,  or  the  result 
of  previous  deliberation,  it  is  not 
in  our  power  to  say  ;  but  certain 
it  is,  that  he  took  his  departure, 
unknown  to  any  person,  and  went 
to  sea  in  a  letter  of  marque,  bound 
to  the  West  Indies. 

In  this  ship,  and,  as  it  were,  in 
his  very  infancy,  his  career  of  ad- 
venture commenced ;  for  on  the 
passage  she  engaged  and  beat  off  a 
large  French  corvette,  and  was 
afterwards  wrecked  off  the  island 
of  St.  Kitt's,  in  the  memorable 
hurricane  of  1/80. 

At  this  early  period,  and  in  a 
distant  country,  he  found,  in  the 
person  of  Mr.  Claxton  (now,  we 
believe,  resident  at  Bristol),  a 
friend  who  had  long  known  his 
father,  and  who  kindly  took  charge 
of  the  youth,  till  an  uncle  at 
Montserrat,  Mr.  Symons,  sent  for 
him. 

It  was  now  that  he  resolved  to 
embark  in  more  honourable  and 
active  service,  by  entering  His 
Majesty's  navy,  as  midshipman  in 
the  Triton  frigate  ;  in  which  ship 
he  remained  in  the  West  Indies 
during  the  active  command  of 
Admiral  Rodney,  and  served  on 
board  her  in  the  glorious  engage- 
ment with  Count  de  Grasse,  on 
the  12th  of  April  1782. 

Afterthe  termination  of  the  war, 
young  Good  til,  like  many  others 
wanting  interest,  was  obliged  to 
return  to  the  merchant-service. 
As,  however,  his  desire  of  gene- 

vol.  1. 


ral  knowledge  increased  with  his 
growth,  he  resolved  to  prefer  such 
ships  as  should  be  bound  to  coun- 
tries which  he  had  not  seen,  or 
that  had  not  been  accurately  de- 
scribed. He  accordingly  soon 
found  a  vessel  bound  to  Turkey. 
He  afterwards  traversed  various 
parts  of  Asia  Minor,  which  a  clas- 
sical education  had  taught  him  to 
respect,  and  encouraged  him  to 
visit  j  and,  on  his  return,  entered 
on  board  another  ship,  bound  to 
China. 

It  was,  we  believe,  about  the 
year  1797  that  he  saw,  at  the  Bath 
Theatre,  Miss  Stanton,  a  young 
actress  of  great  merit,  an,d  in 
whose  favour  he  soon  felt  an  in- 
terest which  by  degrees  ripened 
into  an  ardent  passion.  The  diffi- 
culty, however,  of  gaining  an  in*? 
troduction  to  the  lady  was  not,  in 
his  mind,  easily  to  be  overcome. 
But  love,  as  the  saying  is,  will 
find  or  make  a  way ;  and  a  thought 
occurred  to  him,  that  by  entering 
the  ranks  as  a  dramatic  writer,  he 
might  introduce  himself.  Accord- 
ingly, after  dedicating  about  a 
month  to  his-new  profession,  he 
had  completed  a  comedy,  in  two 
acts,  which  he  called  The  Counter' 
plot.  With  this  he  waited  on  the 
lady,  requesting  her  to  favour  him 
with  her  opinion  of  its  merits; 
and  making  her  an  offer  of  it  (in 
case  it  was  honoured  with  her  ap- 
probation) for  her  next  benefit. 
In  about  twelve  months  Miss  Stan- 
ton bestowed  her  hand  in  mar- 
riage, and  became  Mrs.  Goodall. 

Not  long  after  this,  the  Spanish 
armament  taking  place,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  dispute  about 
Nootka  Sound,  Mr.  Goodall  serv- 
ed on  board  the  Nemesis,  Captain 
(afterwards  Sir  Alexander)  Ball,  as 
acting  lieutenant.  That  business, 
however,  having  been  amicably 
y 


290 


GOO 


GOO 


arranged  between  the  two  govern- 
ments, Captain  Ball  was,-  by  the 
interest  of  Lord  Hood,  appointed 
to  the  Queen  Charlotte  yacht, 
recently  commanded  by  Sir  Hyde 
Parker.  A  life  of  inactivity,  like 
this,  being  very  unsuitable  to  the 
ardent  spirit  of  our  hero,  he  ob- 
tained the  command  of  a  merchant- 
ship,  in  the  West  India  trade ; 
but  while  on  his  voyage  out,  the 
war  with  France  commenced;  and 
on  his  passage  home,  ignorant  of 
this  circumstance,  he  was  cap- 
tured by  a  large  French  privateer, 
and  carried  into  L'Orient. 

By  a  peculiar  kind  of  sympathy, 
which  cannot  well  be  accounted 
for,  he  was  fortunate  enough  to 
obtain  the  confidence  of  his  captor, 
who,  by  the'  by,  was  a  royalist, 
and  who  resolved  that  he  should 
neither  be  the  victim  of  Robe- 
spierre, nor  endure  the  severities 
of  a  gaol.  During  the  few  days 
that  he  remained  at  L'Orient, 
Captain  Goodall  learned  that  two 
English  officers,  who  had  been 
taken  on  their  passage  from  Gib- 
raltar, had  been  closely  confined 
in  a  prison  within  the  arsenal. 
With  true  brotherly  affection,  and 
a  patriotic  energy,  which  was  only 
increased  by  the  danger  of  the 
undertaking,  he,  at  once,  deter- 
mined to  visit  these  gentlemen, 
though  evidently  at  the  risk  of  his 
life.  After  much  contrivance,  and 
with  great  difficulty,  he  accom- 
plished his  benevolent  purpose ; 
he  entered  their  dungeon,  and, 
after  some  interesting  conversation, 
left  them,  charged  with  letters  to 
their  families  and  friends.  At  this 
very  moment,  the  arsenal  was 
discovered  to  be  on  fire,  and  it 
was  with  infinite  hazard  that  he 
got  out  ;  for  the  artillery  was 
playing  on  the  store-houses,  and 
the  whole  of  the  troops  were  em- 


ployed at  the  gates.  His  friend, 
however,  did  not  desert  him  ;  but, 
determined  that  he  should  risk  no 
more  such  hair-breadth  escapes, 
he  soon  after  put  him  on  board  a 
Dutchman,  that  had  been  carry- 
ing ship-timber  to  L'Orient,  by 
which  means Capt. Goodall  reached 
his  native  land. 

The  information  which  he  wasen- 
abled  to  afford  our  government  be- 
ing considered  as  very  serviceable, 
he  was  almost  immediately  ap- 
pointed to  the  Diadem,  Captain 
Sutherland,  and  was  to  proceed  in 
her  to  Gibraltar,  there  to  join  His 
Majesty's  ship  Victory,  bearing 
the  flag  of  Lord  Hood,  comman- 
der in  chief  on  the  Mediterranean 
station.  We  find  Captain  Goodall, 
however,  not  long  after  this,  in 
the  command  of  a  letter  of  marque, 
in  which  he  continued  till  the 
peace  of  1802 ;  during  which  time 
he  is  generally  said  to  have  made 
more  voyages,  fought  more  ac- 
tions, and  captured  more  prizes, 
than  ever  before  were  effected,  in 
the  same  time,  by  any  private 
ship. 

When  the  war  recommenced, 
Captain  Goodall  fitted  out,  in  a 
few  days,  a  small  privateer,  of  ten 
guns  and  forty  men,  called  the 
Catharine  and  Mary,  in  which  he 
took  some  valuable  prizes.  On 
the  25th  of  July  1803,  he  fell  in 
with  La  Caroline,  French  priva- 
teer, of  double  his  force,  and  en- 
gaged with  her  in  two  several 
actions.  In  the  first,  which  lasted 
twenty-five  minutes,  he  beat  off 
the  French  vessel,  and  recaptured 
two  West  Indiamen,  her  prizes ; 
but  on  the  action  being  renewed, 
to  cover  the  prizes,  Captain  Good- 
all,  to  his  great  mortification,  was 
compelled  to  strike  his  flag  for 
want  of  shot :  on  which  the  French 
captain  took  possession  of  his  ves- 


S01 


GOO 

sel,  and  also  of  the  two  prizes. 
Our  hero  and  his  brave  crew  were 
extremely  well  treated  on  board 
the  French  privateer,  from  which 
they  were  landed  at  L'Orient,  on 
the  5th  of  August. 

After  being  removed  from  pri- 
son to  prison,  and  severely  dealt 
with  in  all,  Captain  Goodall  again 
contrived  to  escape,  and,  after  ex- 
periencing innumerable  hardships, 
again  reached  his  native  land,  on 
the  30th  of  October. 

When  Capt.  Goodall  arrived  in 
London,  an  application  was  made 
to  the  Patriotic  Fund  at»  Lloyd's, 
for  some  relief  to  the  families  of 
those  who  were  killed  or  wounded 
in  the  actions  with  La  Caroline,  to 
recapture  the  two  West  Indiamen 
her  prizes ;  but  the  application 
failed  j  as  it  was  decided,  that 
their  case  did  not  come  under  the 
description  of  suffering  in  defence 
of  the  country.  The  Government, 
however,  at  that  time,  thought 
more  liberally  of  Captain  Goodall's 
professional  exertions ;  and  His 
Majesty  was  pleased  to  issue  a  war- 
rant under  his  royal  sign  manual, 
granting  him  24,000/.  being  two 
thirds  of  ihe  proceeds  of  a  Dutch 
East  Indiamnn  which  he  had  cap- 
tured. The?  knowledge  of  this  gra- 
cious markof  his  Sovereign's  appro- 
bation was  communicated  to  him 
by  a  letter  from  Mr.  Sargeant,  then 
one  of  the  secretaries  of  the  Trea- 
sury; in  which  it  was  stated,  that 
t lie  Lords  Commissioners  of  the 
Treasury  were  satisfied  with  his 
highly -meritorious  conduct,  in  his 
general  services. 

When  the  Spanish  'war  broke 
out,  Captain  Goodall  again  put  to 
seaj..rand  made,prize  of  one  of  the 
Vera  Cruz  ships,  with  dollars ; 
but  having  just  had  sight  of  an 
fiaefay's  squadron,  he  proved  his 
preference  of  his  country's  "good 


GOO 


to  .his  own  interest,  by  breaking 
up  the  cruise,  and  proceeding  to 
Madeira ;  there  to  give  an  account 
of  the  course  that  the  enemy  was 
steering,  for  the  information  of  His 
Majesty's  ships,  and  of  the  trade 
touching  there. 

About  the  year  1805,  we  re- 
member seeing  Captain  Goodall 
transacting  business,  as  a  broker, 
at  Lloyd's  ;  but  we  believe  he  did 
not  long  continue  that  pursuit. 
The  sea  was  his  proper  sphere  of 
action ;  and  His  Majesty's  order 
in  council  permitting  a  trade  to  St. 
Domingo  under  certain  regula- 
tions, he  proceeded  thither,  in  the 
Young  Roscius ;  and  in  a  short 
time  a  strong  attachment  and 
friendship  was  cemented  between 
him  and  the  President  Christophe, 
who  purchased  Captain  Goodall's 
ship,  and  at  the  same  time  ap- 
pointed him  commandant  of  the 
Haytian  fleet. 

As  a  dramatist  our  gallant  coun- 
tryman has  only  made  one  appear- 
ance, and  that,  we  believe,  not 
in  print,  viz. 

The  Counterplot.  Com.  [About 
17S7-] 

Goodall,  William.  From 
the  account  this  writer  gives  of 
himself,  in  a  preface  to  his  miscel- 
lanies, we  find  that  he  was  an  ap- 
prentice to  a  clothier  at  Worcester, 
with  whom  he  lived  until  the  time 
of  his  service  expired;  at  the  end 
of  which  he  came  to  London,  and 
was  recommended,  by  Mr.  Sandys, 
to  the  service  of  the  Hon.  James 
Douglas,  where  he  remained  when 
he  published  his  only  dramatic 
piece,  entitled 

The  False  Guardians  outwitted. 
B.  O.  Svo.  1740. 

Goodenougii,  Richard  Jos- 
celine.      A  gentleman,  said  to 
have  possessed  very  amiable  man- 
ners, but  probably  little  prudences 
u  % 


292 


GOR 
After  dissipating  his  fortune,  he 
put  an  end  to  his  existence,  by  a 
pistol,  at  his  house  in  Queen  Ann 
Street,  22d  December  1781,  hav- 
ing produced  one  piece,  entitled 

William   and  Nanny.     M.   E. 
Svo.   J  780. 
It  was  first  called 

The  Cottagers.  And  printed  in 
Svo.   1/68. 

Goodhall,  James.  Of  this 
author  we  know  no  more  than  that 
he  was  of  Lydlington,  in  the 
county  of  Rutland,  and  wrote  two 
plays,  entitled, 

1.  Floraxene  ;  or,  The  Fatal 
Conquest.  T.   Svo.  N.D.  [1754.] 

2.  King  Richard  II.  T.  altered 
and  imitated  from  Shakspeare. 
Svo.   1772. 

Goodwin,  T.  an  author,  who 
has  published  one  drama,  called 

The  Loyal  Shepherd;  or,  The 
Rustic  Heroine.     Dr.  Piece.     Svo. 

1779- 

Gordon,  Alexander.  This 
gentleman  is  known  only  as  the 
author  of  one  play,  called 

Lupone ;  or,  The  Inquisitor.  C. 
Svo.   1731. 

Gordon,  Me.  is  the  name  of  a 
translator  of  Terence,  whose  work 
■was  published  in  12mo.  1/52. 
Who  or  what  he  was  we  are  un- 
able to  discover  ;  but  it  seems  to 
have  been  the  intention  of  the 
publisher  that  the  reader  should 
mistake  his  author  for  Thomas 
Gordon,  Esq.  the  celebrated  po- 
litical writer.  The  present  per- 
formance is  very  unworthy  so 
respectable  a  name.  As  a  speci- 
men of  the  translator's  abilities 
for  the  undertaking,  the  following 
passage  may  be  produced  (see 
Self-Tormentor,  A.  II.  S.  I.), 
where  the  words  ignaram  artis 
meretricice  are  rendered,  "  quite  a 
"  stranger  to  the  trade  of  these 
11  Bitches." 


G  O  S 

Goring,  Charles.  Of  this 
gentleman  we  meet  with  nothing 
more  than  the  bare  mention  of  his 
name,  and  a  record  of  his  having 
been  author  of  one  dramatic  piece, 
■which  was  acted  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre,  entitled 

Irene ;  or,  The  Fair  Greek.  T. 
4to.  17O8. 

Coxeter,  however,  in  his  MS. 
notes,  tells  us,  that  there  was  a 
Charles  Goring,  Esq.  of  Magda- 
len College,  Oxford,  who  took  his 
degree  there  as  master  of  arts, 
April  27,  l6S7j  and  annexes  a 
quaere,  with  a  reference  to  our 
author  3*  the  date  of  whose  play, 
though  twenty  years  later  than  that 
of  the  conferring  this  degree,  is 
far  from  totally  disagreeing  Avith 
the  probability  of  their  being  both 
the  same  person. 

Gosson,  Stephen,  a  Kentish 
man  by  birth,  who  was  admitted 
scholar  of  Christ  Church  College, 
Oxford,  April  4,  1572,  at  the  age 
of  eighteen,  being  born  in  1554. 
He  left  the  university  without  com- 
pleting his  degrees,  and  came  to 
London,  where  he  commenced 
poet,  and  wrote,  as  he  acknow- 
ledges, the  p'.ays  hereafter  men- 
tioned. He  then  retired  into  the 
country  to  instruct  a  gentleman's 
sons,  and  continued  there  until  he 
showed  his  dislike  to  plays  in  such 
a  churlish  and  offensive  manner, 
that  his  patron  growing  weary  oi 
his  company,  he  left  his  service 
and  look  orders.  He  was  at  first 
parson  of  Great  Wigborinv,  in 
Essex  ;  and,  in  lO'OO,  was  pie- 
sented  to  the  rectory  of  St.  iio- 
tolph,  Biihopsgate,  where  he  died, 
13th  Feb.  162  3,  aged  6Q.  The 
names  of  his  dramatic  pieces  are 
as  follow  : 

1.  Catiline  s  Conspiracies. 

2.  The  Comedie  of  Captain 
Mario, 


2€>3 


GRA 


3.  Praise  at  Parting.  Morality. 
None  of  them  were  ever  printed. 

He  is  also  autlior  of  The  Schoole 
of  Abuse  ;  an  invective  against 
poets,  payers,  &:c.  l'irno.  1579; 
8vo.  15  35. 

Gough,  J.  Gent,  or  J.  G.  Who 
this  Mr.  Gough  was  we  know 
not ;  only  by  the  date  of  the  un- 
dermentioned piece  it  is  evident 
he  must  have  lived  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  I.  However,  this  name, 
or  the  initials  annexed,  stand  in- 
discriminately in  the  title-page  to 
different  copies  of  the  only  edition 
of  a  dramatic  piece,  entitled 

'  The  Strange  Discovery.    T.  C. 
4to.  1640. 

Gould,  Robert.  This  au- 
thor was  originally  a  domestic  of 
the  Earl  of  Dorset  and  Middlesex, 
but  afterwards,  having  had  some 
education,  and  being  possessed  of 
abilities,  set  up  a  school  in  the 
country.  He  wrote  one  dramatic 
piece,  called 

1.  The  Riual  Sisters.  T.  4to. 
1696. 

and  seems  to  be  the  same  Mr. 
Gould  in  who?,e  name  a  posthumous 
play  was  published,  entitled, 

2.  Innocence  distressed;  or,  The 
Royal  Penitents.    8vo.   1/37. 

Govell,  R.  was  author  of 

A  Masque.  Destroyed  in  MS. 
by  Mr.  Warburton's  servant. 

Graham,  George.  This  gen- 
tleman was  educated  at  Eton  ;  and 
from  thence,  in  1746,  was  sent  to 
King's  College,  Cambridge.  He 
afterwards  became  one  of  the  mas- 
ters of  the  school  already  named, 
and  died  February  1767.  He 
wrote  one  play,  called 

Telemachus.  M.  4to.  and  Svo. 
1763. 

Part  of  it  was  set  to  music  by  P. 
Hayes,  1765,  and  printed  in  4to. 
He  was  likewise  author  of  a  tra- 
gedy, which  was  refused  by  Mr, 


GRA 

Garrick,  and  has  not  hitherto  ap- 
peared in  print. 

Grahame,  James.  Of  this 
gentleman  we  have  no  other  know- 
ledge, than  that  he  is  author  of 
two  volumes  of  poems,  the  second 
of  which  contains 

Mary  Stuart.  Dr.  Poem.  8vo. 
1S07. 

Grant,  James  M.  (of  Lin- 
coln's Inn),  is  author  of 

Custom's  Fallacy.  Dr.  Sketch. 
Svo.    1805. 

Granville,  George,  Lord 
Lansdown,  was  second  son  of 
Bernard  Granville,  and  grandson 
of  the  famous  Sir  Bevil  Granville, 
who  was  killed  at  the  battle  of 
Lansdown,  in  1643.  He  was 
born  in  I667,  became  a  member  of 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  at  a 
very  early  period  of  life  ;  took  his 
degree  of  M.  A.  at  the  age  of 
thirteen  years,  and  was  with  dif- 
ficulty prevented  from  taking  up> 
arms,  both  at  the  time  of  Mon- 
mouth's rebellion,  and  at  the  Re- 
volution, in  defence  of  King  James 
the  Second.  Having  no  public 
employment,  being  totally  uncon- 
nected with  the  court,  and  pos- 
sessed of  but  a  contracted  fortune, 
he  devoted  his  attention,  during 
the  reign  of  King  William,  to  lite- 
rary pursuits  and  amusements;  the 
fruits  of  which  appeared  in  his 
plays  and  poems,  chiefly  written 
within  that  period.  At  the  ac- 
cession of  Queen  Anne,  he  was 
chosen  into  Parliament,  and  sat  in 
the  House  of  Commons  until  he 
was  created  a  peer.  On  the  change 
of  the  ministry,  in  the  year  1710, 
he  was  appointed  secretary  at  war, 
and  afterwards  successively  comp- 
troller and  treasurer  of  the  house- 
hold. His  connexions  with  the 
Tory  ministers  prevented  his  being 
employed  in  the  succeeding  reign* 
of  George  I.  and  II, ;  in  the  former 
u3 


294 


GRA 


G  R  A 


of  which  he  fell  under  the  suspicion 
of  plotting  against  the  govern- 
ment, and  was  committed  to  the 
Tower,  where  he  was  confined 
seventeen  months.  The  latter 
part  of  his  life  was  spent  in  the 
cultivation  of  letters,  in  an  ho- 
nourable retirement,  universally 
beloved  and  respected  by  all  orders 
of  men.  He  died  January  30, 
1735,  in  the  09th  year  of  his  age. 
Mr.  Walpole  observes,  that  *.'  he 
"  imitated  Waller ;  but  as  that 
"  poet  has  been  much  excelled 
"  since,  a  faint  copy  of  a  faint 
■'  master  must  strike  less." 
His  dramatic  pieces  are, 

1.  The  She  Gallants.     C.  4to. 

2.  Heroic  Love.    T.  4to.  IG9S. 

3.  The  Jew  of  Venice.     C.  4to. 
1701. 

4.  Pekus  and  Thetis.     M.  4to. 
1701. 

5.  The  British  Enchanters;  or, " 
.Vo  Magic  like  Love.     D.  P.    4to. 
1706. 

He  afterwards  new-wrote  The 
She  Gallants,  and  named  it, 

6.  Once  a  Lover,  and  always  a 
Lover.    C.  12mo.   1/30, 

Graves,  Richard.  This  vene- 
rable divine,  and  versatile  au- 
thor, was  the  second  son  of  Rich- 
ard Graves,  Esq.  and  was  born  at 
Mickleton,  in  the  county  of  Glou- 
cester, May  4,  1715.  He  was 
educated  at  Abingdon  school, 
Berks;  elected  from  thence,  Nov. 
1,  1732,  a  scholar  of  Pembroke 
College,  Oxford  ;  chosen  fellow  of 
All  Souls  College,  I730,and  M.A. 
1739.  He  was  designed  for  the 
practice  of  medicine,  but  after- 
wards turned  his  thoughts  to  the 
church,  in  the  doctrines  of  which 
he  was  uncommonly  skilled.  He 
established  a  school  at  Claverton, 
Somersetshire,  near  Bath,  and 
jjknihue,d  it  for  many  years  with 


the  highest  credit.  He  was  first 
distinguished  in  the  literary  world 
.is  the  author  of  The  Spiritual 
Quixote,  in  3  vols,  to  which  he 
successively  added  a  great  number 
of  ingenious  and  interesting  pub- 
lications, in  verse  and  prose,  in  a 
clear,  familiar,  and  lively  style,  par- 
taking of  the  graces  of  Addison  and 
Goldsmith.  His  Ser?nons are  writ- 
ten in  the  same  unaffected  man- 
ner, and  find  an  easy  access  to  the 
heart.  They  are  the  only  works 
to  which  he  affixed  his  name ;  but 
there  is  no  volume  in  the  long 
catalogue  of  his  writings,  which 
does  not  bear  the  marks  of  his 
genius,  philanthropy,  and  virtue. 
He  held  the  rectory  of  Claverton 
fifty-five  years  ;  during  which  pe- 
riod he  was  never  absent  from  his 
parish  for  the  space  of  a  month  at 
any  one  time ;  and  he  died  there, 
Nov.  23,  1804,  in  the  90th  year 
of  his  age,  after  a  very  short  ill- 
ness. 

Mr.  Graves  possessed  from  na- 
ture an  extraordinary  vivacity  of 
constitution,  to  which  the  active 
employments  of  his  choice  and 
station  gave  a  full  scope,  and 
which  a  rigid  temperance  main- 
tained unimpaired  to  the  end  of  a 
long  life.  At  College  he  was  the 
intimate  associate  of  Shenstone, 
Jago,  Sir  W.  Blackstone,  and 
whomsoever  else  of  distinguished 
character  the  university  of  Oxford 
then  contained. 

He  had  many  of  the  eccentric 
habits  of  genius ;  but  "  the  love 
"  of  order"  was  the  prevailing 
principle  of  his  mind.  The  fami- 
liar intercourse  of  his  domestic 
hours  exhibited  an  unvarying  fe- 
nour  of  affection,  cheerfulness,  and 
piety.  He  was  in  his  heart,  as  in 
his  profession,  attached  to  the 
truths  of  Revelation ;  and  it  was  his 
declaration  to  an  intimate  friend, 


2Q5 


G  R  A 

that  after  all  the  researches  of 
reading  or  speculative  inquiry,  he 
thought  "  no  man  (to  use  his 
"  own  words)  could  help  being  a 
**  Christian." 

Mr.  Graves  published,  besides 
The  Spiritual  Quixote,  Columella; 
or,  The  Distressed  Anchoret :  Eu- 
phrosyne,  a  collection  of  poems, 
in  2  vols,  in  the  second  volume  of 
which  is, 

1.  Echo  and  Narcissus.  Dram. 
Past.  Svo.  1/SO;  which  he  after- 
wards introduced  into 

2.  The   Coalition:     C.      12mo. 

Gray,  Thomas.  This  excel- 
lent writer  was  the  son  of  Philip 
Gray,  who  followed  the  business  of 
a  scrivener  in  the  city  of  London. 
His  mother's  name  was  Antrobus, 
and  he  w.'s  born  in  Cornhill,  Dec. 
26,  1710.  He  received  his  edu- 
cation at  Eton  school,  under  the 
care  of  his  uncle  Antrobus,  then 
one  of  the  assistant  masters.  At 
this  seminary  he  became  acquaint- 
ed with  Mr.  Horace  Walpole  and 
Mr.  West.  From  Eton  he  re- 
moved to  St.  Peter's  College,  Cam- 
bridge, where  he  was  admitted  a 
pensioner,  in  the  year  1/34.  He 
remained  at  the  university  until 
the  latter  end  of  the  year  1/38, 
when  he  took  chambers  in  the 
Temple,  with  a  design  to  apply 
himself  to  the  study  of  the  law  ; 
but  on  an  invitation  given  him  by 
Mr.  Walpole,  to  be  his  companion 
in  his  travels,  he  gave  up  this  in- 
tention, and  never  after  resumed  it. 
They  began  their  travels  on  the 
2C)th  of  April  1739,  and  proceed- 
ed through  France  and  Italy  until 
July  1741  j  when  a  slight  disagree- 
ment arising  between  them,  Mr. 
Gray  returned  to  England  alone, 
about  the  1st  of  September}  and 
two  months  after  his  father  died, 
leaving  him  in  circumstances  ra- 


G  R  A 


ther  contracted.  He  now  aban- 
doned the  study  of  the  law,  and, 
being  left  to  follow  his  own  in- 
clination, determined  to  take  up 
his  residence  at  Cambridge,  to 
which  place  he  went  soon  after, 
and  took  his  degree  of  bachelor 
in  civil  law,  but  without  any  de- 
sign of  devoting  himself  to  a 
profession. 

He  continued  from  this  time  at 
Cambridge,  with  the  usual  uni- 
formity of  a  college  life  ;  few  inci- 
dents distinguishing  it  from  that  of 
other  gentlemen  who'  relinquish 
all  public  scenes  for  the  tranquil- 
lity of  academical  retirement.  In 
1757.  he  had  the  offer  of  being 
appointed  poet  laureat,  but  de- 
clined it ;  nor  had  any  honours  or 
emoluments  bestowed  on  him  till 
the  year  1768;  when,  withouthis 
own  solicitation,  or  that  of  his 
friends,  he  was  appointed  regius 
professor  of  modern  history,  at 
Cambridge.  He  lived  there  three 
years  after  this  promotion,  and 
died  on  the  31st  of  July  1772. 

His  excellence  as  a  poet  will  be 
confessed  by  all  who  are  entitled  to 
judge  of  it,  except  now  and  then 
by  a  jealous  critic  educated  at  Ox- 
ford, and  assiduous  in  depreciating 
the  merit  of  every  author  who 
flourished  at  a  rival  university. 
We  do  not,  however,  pretend 
that  Mr.  Gray's  performances  are 
wholly  exempt  from  defects  ;  for 
In  his  Odes  he  sometimes  ap- 
pears to  have  been  more  attentive 
to  the  glitter  of  words,  than  the 
distinctness  of  ideas.  And  yet,  if 
these  truly  original  pieces  main- 
tain their  reputation  till  the  cri- 
tics who  censure  them  can  impair 
it  by  producing  better,  they  may 
at  least  be  satisfied  with  their  pre- 
sent security.  The  most  unfavour- 
able remarks  that  truth  can  sug- 
gest concerning  our  author  as  a 
u  4 


296 


G  R  E 


man,  are,  that  there  was  a  reserve 
in  his  behaviour  too  nearly  resem- 
bling fastidiousness ;  and  that  he 
was  apt  to  indulge  himself  in  such 
modish^niceties  of  dress,  as  did  not 
always  correspond  with  the  so- 
briety of  an  academic  gown. 

He  began  a  tragedy,  of  which 
he  lived  to  finish  only  one  scene, 
and  part  of  a  second.   It  is  entitled 

sJgrippina. 
Printed   in   Mr.  Mason's  Life  of 
him,  4to.  1775. 

Greathekd,  Bertie,  is  the 
son  of  Samuel  Greatheed,  Esq.  of 
Guy's  Cliff,  near  Warwick,  by  a 
sister  of  the  Duke  of  Ancaster. 
This  gentleman,  when  in  Italy,  in 
1/85,  contributed  to  a  collection 
of  pieces  in  prose  and  verse  (in 
conjunction  with  Mr.  Merry  and 
Mrs.  Piozzi),  called  The  Florence 
Miscellany ;  and  has  been  termed, 
by  the  author  of  The  Baviad  and 
Mceviad,  the  Reuben  of  the  Delia 
Crusca  school.  Mr.  Greatheed  is 
also  the  author  of  one  play,  called 

The  Regent.     T.     8vo.  1 788; 
which   he  dedicated  to  Mrs.  Sid- 
dons,   who,    indeed,    greatly   ex- 
erted herself  in  its  support. 

Green,  Alexander.  This  gen- 
tleman is  mentioned  by  all  the 
writers,  but  with  no  further  ac- 
count of  him,  than  that  he  lived  in 
the  reign  of  Charles  II.  and  soon 
after  the  Restoration  presented  the 
world  with  one  dramatic  piece,  en- 
titled 

The  Politician  Cheated.  C.  4  to. 

16635 

but  whether  it  was  ever  acted  does 

not  appear. 

Green,  George  Smith,  was  a 
watchmaker  at  Oxford,  and  a  man 
celebrated  for  his  eccentricity.  He 
was  the  author  of  a  poem,  called 
The  Parson's  Parlour,  8vo.  1/56; 
and  a  specimen  of  a  new  version 
of  Paradise  Lest  into  Hank  verse, 


G  R  E 

"  by  which  (he  asserts)  that  ama- 
"  zing  work  is  brought  somewhat 
"  nearer  the  summit  of  perfec- 
"  tion."  He  died  April  28,  1762, 
having  published  two  plays,  which 
were  never  acted,  entitled, 

1.  Oliver  Cromwell.  Hist.  Play. 
8vo.  1752. 

2.  The  Nice  Lady.  C.  8vo.  1762. 
Green,  Robert.     This  author 

lived  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, and  had  a  liberal  education. 
He  was  first  of  St.  John's  College, 
Cambridge,    where   he   took   the 
degree  of  B.  A.  1578;  he  after- 
wards removed  to  Clare  Hall,  and, 
in  1583,  became  M-  A. ;  it  is  said, 
he  was   likewise  incorporated  at 
Oxford.     He  was  a  man  of  great 
humour  and  drollery,  and  by  no 
means  deficient  in  point  of  wit, 
had  he  not  too  often  prostituted 
that  happy,  but  dangerous,  talent 
to  the  base  purposes  of  vice  and 
obscenity.  In  short,  both  in  theory 
and   practice,  be  seems   to   have 
been  a  most  perfect  libertine  ;  for, 
although  he  appears  to  have  been 
blessed  with  a  beautiful,  virtuous, 
and  very  deserving   lady  to  his 
wife,  yet  we  find  that  he  basely 
abandoned  her,  and  a  child  which 
she  had  borne  him,  to  penury  and 
distress,  lavishing  his  fortune  and 
substance  on  harlots  and  common 
prostitutes.     Unable,  however,  to 
maintain  the  expenses  which  the 
unlimited   extravagance   of  those 
wretches  necessarily  drew  him  into, 
he  was  obliged  to  have  recourse  to 
his  pen  for  a  maintenance;  and 
indeed  we  think  he  is  the  first  Eng- 
lish poet  that  we  have  on  record  as 
writing  for  bread.     As  he  had  a 
great  fund  of  that  licentious  kind 
of  wit,  which  would  most  strongly 
recommend  his  works  among  the 
rakes  of  that  age,  his  writings  sold 
well,  and  afforded  him   a  consi- 
derable income ;    till  at    length, 


297 


G  R  E 

after  a  course  of  years  spent  in 
dissipation,  riot,  and  debauchery, 
whereby  his  faculties,  his  fortune, 
and  constitution,  had  been  destroy- 
ed, we  find  him  fallen  into  a  state 
of  the  most  wretched  penury,  dis- 
ease, and  self-condemnation.   Nor 
can  there  be  a  stronger  picture  of 
the  miserable  condition  of  a  being 
thus  pinched  to  repentance  by  the 
griping  hand  of  distress,    than  a 
letter  which,  in  the  decline  of  life, 
he  wrote    to   his   much-wronged 
wife,  and  which,  though  too  long 
to  be  here  inserted-,  may  be  seen 
in  Theoph.  Cibber's   Lives  of  the 
Poets,  vol.  i.  p.  89 ;  by  which  it 
appears,  that  he  found  himself  de- 
serted even  by  the  very  companions 
of  his  riots,  destitute  of  the  com- 
mon  necessaries  of   life,  and,  in 
consequence  of  a  course  of  re- 
peated  falsehoods,  perjuries,   and 
profaneness,    become    an    object 
of  general  contempt  and  detesta- 
tion. 

His  letter  is  truly  a  penitential, 
and,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  a  sincere 
one  * ;  yet,  from  the  titles  of 
some  of  his  later  works,  such  as 
Green's  Never  too  late,  in  two 
parts  ;  Green's  Farewell  to  Folly; 
Green's  Groatsworth  of  Wit,  &c. 
ke  seems  to  have  chosen  to  assume 
the  habit  of  a  penitent,  as  if  he 
were  desirous  of  bringing  himself 
back  into  the  good  opinion  of  the 
world,  by  an  acknowledgment  of 
those  faults  which  hud  been  too 
openly  committed  for  him  to  deny, 
and  by  the  appearance  of  an  in- 
tended reformation.  Wood,  in 
his  Fasti,  vol.  i.  p.  137,  tells  us, 
that  our  author  died  in  1592,  of  a 
surfeit  gotten  by  eating  too  great  a 
quantity  of  pickled  herrings,  and 

*  We  must  observe,  however,  that 
trii<:  letter  is  caWed  (by  Nash,  in  his 
Jpologie  of  P'urce  PenUesse,  1595)  a  for- 
gery. 


G  R  E 

drinking  Rhenish  wine  with  them; 
a  death  which  seems,  in  even  po- 
etical justice,  to  be  the  proper 
conclusion  of  a  life  spent  as  his 
had  been.  At  this  feast,  his  friend 
Thomas  Nash,  hereafter  mention- 
ed, was  likewise  present.  His 
works  of  different  kinds  are  very 
numerous ;  but  as  to  his  dramatic 
ones,  there  are  many  difficulties 
that  stand  in  the  way  01  comings, 
with  any  degree  of  certainty,  at  a 
knowledge  of  them.  The  follow- 
ing are  undoubtedly  by  him  : 

I'.  The  History  of  Fiiar  Bacon 
and  Friar  Bon  gay.     4to.  15Q4. 

2.  The  History  of  Orlando  Fu- 
rioso,  one  if  the  tivelve  Pieres  of 
France.     4to.  1594. 

3.  The  Comical  History  of  Al- 
phonsus  King  of  Arragon.  4to. 
I5pq.  (Oldys's  MS.  notes  on 
Langbaine  ) 

4.  The  Seottishe  Story  of  James 
the  Foitrlhe  Maine  at  Floddon,  inter- 
mired  with  a  pleasant  Comedie, 
presented  by  Oberon  King  of  the 
Fairiei.  4to.  Ijpp.  Entered  in 
Stationers'  H;dl  15U4. 

5.  The  History  of  Jole.  N.  P. 
This  had  been  in  the  possession  of 
Mr.  Warburton. 

He  also  joined  with  Dr.  Lodge, 
in  his  co'uedy,  entitled 

A  Looking- glass  for  London  and 
England. 

But  Winstanley,  besides  these, 
has  attributed  one  entire  play  to 
him,  called 

Fair  Emm.  C.  4to.  1631. 
which,  however,  is  printed  anony- 
mously ;  and  asserts  that  he  was 
concerned  with  Dr.  Lodge  in  t-he 
composition  of  four  other  dramatic 
pieces,  called 

Lady  Alimony.     C*. 

Laws  of  Nature.     C. 

Liberality  and  Prodigality.     C. 

Luminalia.     M. 
But  for  our  opinion  in  regard  to 


2J)S 


GRE 
these,  see  further  in  the  account 
of  Dr.  Lodge. 

Antony  Wood  says,  that  Green 
■was  also  author  of  another  piece, 
■which  he  (Wood)  had  seen,  called 
Planetomachia.  C.  4to.  1585. 
Wood  also  tells  us,  that  Mr. 
Green  having  reflected  on  Gabriel 
Harvey  in  several  of  his  writings, 
Harvey,  not  being  able  to  bear 
his  abuses,  did  inhumanly  trample 
upon  him  when  he  lay  full  low  in 
his  grave,  even  as  Achilles  insulted 
the  dead  body  of  Hector. 

The  following  elegant  lines  are 
extracted  from  a   pamphlet  pub- 
lished, by   Gabriel   Harvey,   after 
Green's  death,    entitled  «*  Foure 
*'  Letters,   and  certaine  Sonnets : 
"  Especially      touching      Robert 
'*■  Greene,   and    other   Parties   by 
"  him  abused."     4to.  1592. 
Rolertus  Grenus,  utriusqus  Acade- 
mice  Artlum  Magister,  de  Seipso. 
«'  Ille  ego,  cui  risus,  rumores,  festa,  pu- 
ellce, 
«*  Vana  libellorumscriptio,  vita  fuit : 
M  Prodigus  ut  vidi  Ver,  .'Estatemque  fu- 
roris, 
"  Autumno,  atque  Hycmi,  cum  cane 
dico  vale. 
**  Ingenii  bullam  ;  plumam  Artis ;  fistu- 
lam  amandi ; 
"  Ecqute  non  misero  plangat  avena 
tono  ?" 

Green,  Rupert.  Of  this  dra- 
matic infant  it  will  be  enough  to 
say,  that  he  is  the  son  of  Valentine 
Green,  the  mezzotinto  scraper, 
and  himself  an  artist  in  some  re- 
pute. He  produced  before  he  was 
nine  years  old  a  tragedy,  called 

The  Secret  Plot.     12mo.  1777. 

.  Greffulhe.  Mr.  a  merchant 

in  the  city,  is  the  reputed  author 

of, 

1.  The  Portrait  of  Cervantes.  F. 

1SOS.     N.  P. 

2.  Is  he  a  Prince?  F.  IS09. 
N.  P. 

Gregory,  George,  D.  D.  was 


G  R  K 


born  in  Ireland,  his  father  being 
prebendary  of  Ferns ;  who  dying 
when  our  author  was  but  twelve 
years  old,  his  mother,  a  native  of 
Lancashire,  removed  to  Liverpool, 
where  she  placed  her  son  in  a 
school,  which  was  superintended 
by  an  excellent  mathematician, 
named  Llolden.  He  afterwards 
passed  two  years  in  Edinburgh, 
where  he  made  the  mathematical 
and  physical. sciences  his  great  ob- 
jects of  attainment.  On  his  re- 
turn to  Liverpool,  he  took  orders, 
and  was  ordained  to  the  curacy  of 
Liverpool ;  where  he  soon  after 
contributed  to  a  periodical  work 
some  miscellaneous  essays,  in  which 
he  exposed  the  inhumanity  and 
impolicy  of  the  slave-trade. 

In  1/82,  on  his  removal  to 
London,  he  was  appointed  curate 
of  Cripplegate.  Three  years  after 
he  became  better  known  by  the 
publication  of  a  volume  of  Essays, 
Historical  and  Moral.  The  success 
of  this  work  occasioned  a  de- 
mand for  two  subsequent  editions.1 
Besides  his  literary  reputation, 
Dr.  Gnegory  now  attained  celebrity 
in  his  clerical  functions.  From 
this  popularity,  though  he  derived 
little  emolument,  he  could  not,  on 
some  occasions,  fail  to  receive 
heart-felt  pleasure.  The  curacy  of 
Cripplegate,  in  consequence  of  the 
heavy  duties  attached  to  it,  he  had 
been  compelled  to  resign  ;  but  in 
1785  he  was  recalled  to  this 
church,  by  the  earnest  wishes  of 
his  congregation,  who  unanimous- 
ly elected  him  their  morning- 
preacher.  At  the  same  time  he 
officiated  at  St.  George's,  Botolph 
Lane ;  delivered  lectures  at  th« 
Asylum,  and  weekly  lectures  at 
St.  Antholin's.  In  1769  he  pub- 
lished his  Translation  of  Lowth's 
Lectures  on  the  Sacred  Poetiy  of 
ilie  Hebrews. 


299 


G  R  E 


GRE 


In  17S9,  shortly  after  his  mar- 
riage with  Miss  Nunnes,  Dr.  Gre- 
gory canvassed  for  the' office  of 
chaplain  to  the  Asylum,  which  he 
lost  by  one  vote ;  more  from  the 
too  sanguine  confidence  of  his 
friends,  than  from  want  of  sup- 
port. In  the  evening  of  the  same 
day,  with  that  dignified  self-pos- 
session which  never  forsook  him, 
he  preached  at  St.  Antholin's,  ex- 
tempore, from  the  text,  "  Put  thy 
'*  trust  in  the  Lord,  and  he  shall 
"  >'et  g've  thee  the  desires  of  thine 
"  heart."  A  volume  of  Sermons, 
previously  published  by  him,  was 
re-edited  this  year ;  also  the  Life 
of  Chatterton,  for  whose  fate  he 
felt  the  most  sincere  commisera- 
tion. The  four  following  years 
formed  the  most  active  part  of  his 
life.  He  conducted  a  critical  work, 
and  was  connected  with  several 
publications  of  various  kinds.  Yet, 
amidst  ail  these  cares  and  avoca- 
tions, he  published  his  Church 
History,  a  new  translation  of  Te- 
lemachus,  and  The  Economy  of 
Nature.  This  work  was  intended 
to  supply  the  elemental  parts  of 
physical  science.  Its  success  was 
such,  that  a  third  edition  of  it 
was  published  in  1904.  In  that 
year,  through  the  interest  of  Mr. 
Addington,  now  Lord  Sidmouth, 
Dr.  Gregory  was  presented  by  His 
Majesty  to  the  living  of  Westham, 
in  Essex.  He  had  previously  ob- 
tained from  the  Bishop  of  London 
a  small  prebendary  in  the  cathedral 
of  St.  Paul's,  which  he  resigned  on 
-being  preferred  to  the  rectory  of 
Stapleford,  in  Herts,  by  the  same 
hand. 

In  his  retreat  from  the  metro- 
polis, he  found  leisure  to  superin- 
tend the  progress  of  an  Encyclo- 
paedia of  Arts  and  Sciences.  On 
dismissing  this  task,  he  employed 
Simself  in  revising  and  oorrecting 


a  volume  of  Lectures  on  Chemistry. 
His  next  labour  was  the  revision 
of  two  volumes  of  Letters  on  Li- 
terature and  Taste;  but  this  labour 
was  destined  to  be  his  last. 

He  expired  on  the  evening  of 
March  12,  1808,  and  was  bu- 
ried in  his  parochial  church  of 
Westham,  on  Monday  the  21st. 

We  are  informed  that  Dr.  Gre- 
gory was  author  of 

The  Siege  of  Jerusalem.     Trag. 

Greville,  Sik  Fulk,  Lord 
Brook.  This  right  honourable 
author  was  son  to  Sir  Fulk  Gre- 
ville, the  elder,  of  Beauchamp 
Court,  in  Warwickshire,  and  de- 
scended from  the  ancient  family  of 
the  Grevilles,  who,  in  the  reign  of 
Edward  III.  were  seated  at  Camb- 
den  in  Gloucestershire.  He  was 
born  in  1.554,  the  same  year  with 
his  friend  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and 
received  his  education  at  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge ;  from  whence, 
on  his  removal  to  court,  he  soon 
grew  highly  in  favour  with  Queen 
Elizabeth,  nor  stood  less  in  the 
esteem  of  her  successor  James  I. 
who,  at  his  coronation,  created  him 
Knight  of  the  Bath;  in  lGl5, 
made  him  Chancellor  of  the  Ex- 
chequer; and,  in  the  1/th  year  of 
his  reign,  raised  him  to  the  dig- 
nity of  the  peerage,  with  the  title 
of  Baron  Brook  of  Beauchamp's 
Court,  and  one  of  the  gentlemen 
of  the  bedchamber.  He  was 
equally  eminent  for  his  learning 
and  courage,  in  both  which  he 
greatly  distinguished  himself,  and 
was  one  of  the  most  particular  in7 
timates  of  the  ingenious  Sir  Philip 
Sidney,  whose  life,  prefixed  to  his 
celebrated  romance  the  Arcadia, 
under  the  name  of  Philophilippos, 
was  written  by  this  gentleman. 
Besides  this,  he  wrote  a  Treatise 
of  Human  Learning ;  a  Treatise  of 
Wars ;    and   an   Inquisition    upon 


300 


G  It  E 

Force  and  Honour :  all  of  which 
are  composed  in  sestines,  or  stanzas 
of  .six  lines  each,  the  four  first  of 
which  are  alternate,  and  the  Inst 
two  rhyming  to  each  other.  His 
title  to  a  place  in  this  work,  how- 
ever, is  founded  on  two  dramatic 
pieces  (both  tragedies)  which  he 
wrote,  entitled, 

1.  Alaham.     T.     Fol.  1633. 

2.  Muslapha.     T.     Fol.  1633. 

Neither  of  these  was  ever  act- 
ed, they  being  written  strictly  after 
the  model  of  the  ancients,  with 
choruses,  &c.  and  entirely  unfit 
for  the  English  stage. 

This  amiable  man  of  quality  lost 
his  life  in  a  tragical  manner  on  the 
30th  of  September,  in    the   year 
1 628,  being  then  seventy-four  years 
of  age,  by  the  hands  of  one  Hay- 
wood, who  had  spent  the  greater 
and  best  part  of  his  time  in  his 
personal   service ;    for  which   not 
thinking    himself  sufficiently    re- 
warded, he  expostulated  with  his 
master  on  it,  they  two  being  alone 
in   his  Lordship's   bedchamber    in 
Brook    House,    in   Holborn    (the 
spot  of  ground  where  Brook  Street 
now  stands).     His  remonstrances, 
however,    being    probably    made 
with  too  much  peremptoriness  and 
an  air  of  insolence,  he  received  a 
sharp  rebuke   from  his  Lordship, 
which  he  immediately  returned  by 
giving  him  a   mortal  stab  in   the 
back,  of  which  wound  he  died, 
but  whether  instantly  or  not,  does 
not  appear.  The  assassin,  however, 
conceiving  his  own  condition  to  be 
desperate,  went  into  another  room, 
and,  having  locked  the  door,  fell  on 
his  sword.  Thus,  in  order  to  evade 
the  sentence  of  the  law,  he  became 
himself  the  executioner  of  justice, 


G  R  I 
Lord  Brook  lies  buried  among 
the  rest  of  his  honourable  ances- 
tors, in  Warwick  church,  under  a 
monument  of  black  and  white 
marble,  on  which  he  is  styled 

"  Servant  to  Queen  Elizabeth, 
"  Counsellor  to  King  James, 

"  and 
"  Friend  to  Sir  Philip  Sidney." 

He  died  without  issue,  having 
never  been  married;  and  those  who 
are  desirous  of  reading  his  charac- 
ter more  at  large,  may  be  further 
satisfied  by  perusing  the  account 
given  of  him  by  Fuller,  in  his  Bri- 
tish Worthies.  (See  Warwickshire, 
p.  127.) 

Griffin,  Benjamin,  was  an 
actor  as  well  as  an  author.  He 
was  the  son  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Ben- 
jamin Griffin,  rector  of  Buxton 
and  Oxned,  in  the  county  of  Nor- 
folk, and  chaplain  to  the  Earl  of 
Yarmouth.  At  the  last-mentioned 
of  these  two  places  Mr.  Griffin  was- 
born,  in  1680,  and  received  his 
education  at  the  free-school  of 
North  Walshara,  in  the  said  coun- 
ty, founded  by  the  noble  family  of 
the  Pastons.  s 

He  was  put  apprentice  to  a  gla- 
zier at  Norwich  ;  but  acting  be- 
ing a  more  agreeable  pursuit  to 
him  than  glazing,  he  ran  away 
from  his  master,  and  got  initiated 
among  a  pack  of  strollers,  who  fre- 
quented that  city  in  the  year  1 7 1 2 ; 
with  whom,  and  in  other  com- 
panies, he  arrived  at  considerable 
excellence,  till,  in  the  year  1714, 
he  made  one  at  the  opening  of  the 
new  theatre  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields. 
Here  he  gained  great  applause, 
and  established  a  character  to  him- 
self in  the  cast  of  parts  which  he 
commonly  performed ;  which  were 
receiving  from  his  own  hand  that  always  in  low  comedy,  and  mostly 
death  which  otherwise  would  have  in  the  testy  old  men.  In  short,  he 
been  inflicted  on  him  by  that  of  in  a  few  years  became  of  so  much 
the  common  hangman.  consequence,  that  the  managers  of 


301 


G  R.I 


Drury  Lane;  notwithstanding  they 
had  already  Norris  and  Johnson, 
who  were  still  more  excellent  in 
the  same  way  ot'playing, and  there- 
fore could  make  but  little  use  of 
Mr.  Griffin  at  their  own  house, 
found  it,  nevertheless,  worth  their 
while  to  buy  off  his  weight  against 
them  in  the  rival  theatre,  by  en- 
gaging him  at  a  larger  salary  than 
he  had  hitherto  had  there ;  and, 
indeed,  so  intrinsically  great  was 
our  author's  merit,  that  though,  in 
consequence  of  the  circumstance 
above  mentioned,  he  made  his  ap- 
pearance but  seldom,  yet,  when- 
ever he  did,  it  was  constantly  with 
applause ;  nor  did  the  excellence 
of  the  above-mentioned  actors  by 
any  means  eclipse  his,  or  seem  to 
abate  the  favourable  opinion  the 
public  had  conceived  of  him,  even 
when  they  at  any  time  appeared 
on  the  stage  together  with  him. 

Mr.  Chetvvood,  in  his  British 
Theatre,  says,  that  Mr.  Griffin  re- 
moved to  Drury  Lane  theatre  in 
1720 ;  but  this,  we  think,  must 
be  a  mistake ;  as  we  find  his  comedy 
of  IVhig  and  Tory  brought  on  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  that  year, 
which  would  hardly  have  been  the 
case,  had  the  author  so  lately 
quitted  that  theatre,  and  joined  in 
an  opposition,  at  that  time  of  so 
much  consequence,  against  them. 

This  author  died  Feb.  18,  1740, 
being  the  O'Oth  year  of  his  age, 
and  left  behind  him  five  dramatic 
pieces,  whose  titles  are  as  follow, 
viz. 

1.  Injur  d  Virtue.  T.  12mo. 
1715. 

2.  Love  in  a  Sack.  F.  1 2mo. 
1715. 

3.  Humours  of  Purgatory.  F. 
12mo.  1716. 

4.  Masquerade.  F.  12mo.  1717. 

5.  IVhig  and  Tory.  C.  8vo. 
1720. 


G  R  I 

Griffith,  Elizabeth.  Tins 
lady  was  a  successful  writer,  who 
employed  her  attention  on  works 
of  very  different  kinds,  and  ge- 
nerally to  the  increase  of  her  re- 
putation. She  was  of  Welsh  de- 
scent, and  bore  the  same  name 
before  she  married  as  she  did  after- 
wards. Her  husband,  Mr.  Richard 
Griffith,  who  was  also  an  author, 
was  of  a  good  family  in  Ireland. 

The  first  performance  in  which 
she  distinguished  her  talents,  was 
her  share  in  The  Letters  of  Henry 
and  Frances,  which  contained  the 
genuine  correspondence  between 
her  and  her  husband  before  their 
marriage,  and  for  some  years  after. 
These  manuscripts  were  published 
at  the  particular  request  of  Mar- 
garet, late  Countess  of  Cork,  who 
was  one  of  her  friends  and  confi- 
dents in  this  connexion,  which 
was  at  first  kept  secret  on  account 
of  certain  family  reasons,  as  may 
be  gathered  from  some  of  the  let- 
ters. This  collection  has  received 
the  approbation  of  the  generality 
of  readers. 

Mrs.  Griffith  was  the  author  of 
Essays  to  young  married  Women  ; 
a  volume,  entitled  The  Morality 
of  Shakspeare's  Drama  illustrated; 
besides  several  novels;  and  had 
been  engaged  in  a  variety  of  other 
performances.  She  also  wrote  the 
following  dramatic  pieces : 

1.  Amana.     DP.    4to.  1764. 

2.  The  Platonic  Wife.  C.  8vo. 
1765. 

3.  The  Doulie  Mistake.  C.  8vo 
1/66. 

4.  The  School  for  Rakes.  C.  8vo. 
1769. 

5.  A  Wife  in  the  Right.  C.  8vo 
1772. 

6.  The  Times.     C.     8vo.  I78O. 
Mrs.  Griffith  was  also  the  trans- 
lator of  Beaumarchais', 

7.  Barber  of  Seville.  C.  8  vo.l  776. 


302 


G  It  I 

She  died  Jan.  5,  1/93,  at  Mil- 
lecent,  in  the  county  of  Kildare, 
Ireland.  In  the  early  part  of  her 
life  she  attempted  the  stage  in 
Ireland ;  and,  in  the  years  1/53 
and  1 754,  at  Covent  Garden. 

Griffith,  Richard,  husband 
of  the  lady  just  mentioned,  was 
author  of 

Variety.     C.     8vo.  1782. 

Grimald,  Nicholas,  a  native 
of  Huntingdonshire,  was  born  in 
1519,  and  received  his  first  edu- 
cation in  Christ's  College,  Cam- 
bridge, where  having  taken  the 
degree  of  B.  A.  he  thence  went 
to  Oxford,  and  was  incorporated 
there  in  the  same  degree  in  April 
1542.  In  the  next  month  he  was 
chosen  probationer  fellow  of  Mer- 
ton  College,  being  then  in  the 
23d  year  of  his  age.  In  1544,  he 
proceeded  in  arts;  and  1547,  when 
the  college  of  King  Henry  VJII. 
was  to  be  settled  and  replenished 
with  students,  he  was  put  in  there 
as  a  senior,  or  theologist.  He  was 
author  of  a  Latin  play,  called  • 

Archipropheta.     T.     8vo.  1548. 

Gkimes,  Mr...  This  author  was 
a  schoolmaster  (said  to  have  been 
remarkable  for  exciting  insurrec- 
tions among  his  boys),  and  wrote 
one  small  piece,  performed  by  his 
pupils  at  Cordwainers'  Hall.  It  is 
called 

An  Opera  alluding  to  the  Peace. 
8vo.  1712. 

Grimston,  William,  Lord 
Viscount.  This  nobleman,  whose 
title  stands  in  the  list  of  the  Irish 
peerage,  was  grandfather  to  the 
present  Lord  Grimston.  He  was 
horn  about  1692;  and  May  29, 
1719,  was  created  Baron  of  Dun- 
boyne,  in  the  county  of  Meath,  in 
Ireland,  and  Viscount  Grimston. 
At  the  age  of  thirteen  years,  while 
at  school,  he  wrote  a  play,  which 


G  R  I 


was  never  acted,  but  printed  in  th* 
year  1705,  entitled 

The  Lawyer  s  Fortune.  Com. 
4to.  [Reprinted  in  8vo.  and  12mo. 
1736.] 

It  is  true,  this  piece,  so  far  from 
having  any  dramatic  merit  in  it, 
is  tull  of  the  grossest  absurdities  ; 
but  when  the  infantine  years  of 
its  author  come  to  be  considered, 
and  that  it  might  probably  be 
owing  to  the  partiality  of  parents, 
in  the  gratification  of  a  childish 
vanity,  that  it  was  ever  published  : 
if  it  is,  moreover,  known,  that 
when,  at  a  maturer  time  of  life, 
the  author  himself,  on  a  review  of 
it,  became  sensible  of  its  faults,  he 
took  the  utmost  pains  to  call  in 
the  impression,  and  prevent,  if 
possible,  so  indifferent  a  perform- 
ance from  standing  forth  in  evidence 
against  even  his  boyish  abilities, 
surely  a  first  fault,  so  amply  re- 
pented, might  easily  be  forgiven, 
and  the  asperity  with  which  the 
author  has  been  treated  on  the  ac- 
count of  it  might  well  have  been 
spared. 

Indeed,  the  public  is  scarce- 
ly to  be  blamed  for  the  ill-usage 
he  has  received,  as  they  would 
probably  have  suffered  this  piece 
to  have  died  in  obscurity,  with 
many  others  of  equal  merit,  had 
it  not  been  for  the  malevolence  of 
the  late  Dutchess  of  Marlborough, 
who,  in  the  course  of  an  opposi- 
tion which  she  thought  proper  to 
make  to  this  worthy  peer,  in  an 
election  for  members  of  parlia- 
ment, where  his  Lordship  was  a 
candidate,  caused  a  large  impres- 
sion of  this  play  to  be  printed  off", 
at  her  own  sole  charge,  and  to  be 
dispersed  among  the  electors,  with 
a  frontispiece,  conveying  a  most 
indecent  and  unmannerly  reflec- 
tion on  his  Lordship's  understand- 


303 


G  R  I 

ing,  under  the  allegorical  figure 
of  an  elephant  dancing  on  the 
ropes.  Pope  also  thought  proper 
to  abuse  Lord  Grim ston  in  the  fol- 
lowing lines,  alluding  to  the  peer's 
residence  at  Gorhambury,  near  St. 
Albans : 

*'  Shades  that  to  Bacon  did  retreat  afford, 
**  Are  now  the  portion  of  a  booby  Lord." 

And  Swift  says, 

**  The  leaden  crown  rlevolv'd  to  thee, 
M  Great  poet  of  the  Holioiv  Tree." 

The  second  title  of  his  Lord- 
ship's comedy  was,  Love  in  a  Hol- 
low Tree;  and  in  it  the  following 
-line  occurs : 

'•  There  let  us  rest  our  v.*eary  limbs,  //'// 
they  more  •meaty  be." 

Lord  Grimston  represented  this 
contested  borough,  which  was  St. 
Albans,  in  the  3d,  4th,  5th,  and 
7th  parliaments  of  Great  Britain  ; 
and,  by  his  behaviour  while  he  con- 
tinued in  the  House,  his  conduct 
in  a  rational  and  happy  retirement 
after  his  quitting  public  affairs, 
and  his  prudent  economy  through 
life  in  the  management  of  an 
estate,  which,  though  a  large  one, 
was,  at  the  time  it  descended  to 
him,  loaded  with  the  incumbrance 
of  numerous  fortunes  and  heavy 
jointures  saddled  on  it,  gave  am- 
ple proof  of  the  injustice  of  the 
insinuations  so  artfully  thrown  out 
against  him,  and  supported  solely 
on  this  one  trivial  error  of  his 
childhood  ;  and  it  is  but  justice 
to  a  valuable  character,  thus  at- 
tempted to  be  injured,  to  conclude 
our  account  of  him  with  the  amia- 
ble portrait  drawn  of  him  by  the 
author  of  the  lives  annexed  to 
Whincop's  Scanderbeg :  "  This 
"  nobleman  (says  that  writer)  is 
"  a  good  husband  to  one  of  the 
"  best  of  wives  ;  an  indulgent  fa- 
"  ther  to  a  hopeful  and  numerous 
<f  offspring  j  a  kind  master  to  his 


G  W  I 


"  servants,  a  generous  friend,  and 
"  an  affable  and  hospitable  neigh- 
"  bour." 

He  died  on  the  15  th  of  OctobeT 
1756. 

Grove,  Joseph,  is  hardly  en- 
titled to  a  place  in  this  work,  be- 
ing only  the  publisher  of  one  of 
Shakspeare's  plays.  He  was  an 
attorney,  and  resided  at  Richmond, 
where  he  died  March  2J,  1764. 
He  wrote  The  Life  of  Cardinal 
Wolsey,  in  4  vols.  8vo.  and  other 
works.  The  play  he  republished 
was 

Henry  the  Eighth.  H.  P.  Svo. 
1/58. 

Grove,  W.  To  a  writer  of 
this  name  Mr.  Egerton  ascribes 

The  Faithful  Shepherd.  Dram. 
Past.     Svo.  1782. 

Grys,  Le.  See  Le  Grys,  Sir 
Robert. 

Gunning,  Miss,  daughter  of 
the  late  General  Gunning,  besides 
having  written  several  novels,  is 
the  translator,  from  the  French,  of 

The  IVtfe  with  Two  Husbands. 
T.  C.     Svo.  1803. 

Gwinne,  Matthew,  was  the 
son  of  Edward  Gwinne,  who  de- 
scended from  an  ancient  family  in 
Wales,  but  dwelt  at  London.  In 
the  year  1574,  he  was  elected  a 
scholar  of  St.  John's  College,  in 
Oxford,  where  he  took  the  degree 
of  B.  A.  on  the  14th  of  May  157S, 
and  was  afterwards  perpetual  fel- 
low of  the  college.  He  had  the 
honour  of  being  appointed  master 
regent  in  July  1582,  and  read  the 
music  lecture.  When  he  had  taken 
his  degrees  in  arts,  he  entered  up- 
on the  physic  line,  and  practised 
as  a  physician  in  and  about  Ox- 
ford several  years.  In  1588  he 
was  appointed  junior  proctor  of 
the  university,  and  on  July  17, 
1503,  was  created  doctor  of  physic. 
He  obtained  leave  of  the  college, 


3C4 


G  W  I 


G  W  I 


in  1595,  to  attend  Sir  Henry 
Union,  ambassador  from  Queen 
Elizabeth  to  the  French  court,  and 
continued  with  him  during  his  ab- 
sence abroad. 

Upon  the  settlement  of  Gresh- 
am College,  he  was  chosen  the 
first  professor  of  physic  about  the 
beginning  of  March  15Qt3,  being 
one  of  tne  two  nominated  by  the 
university  of  Oxford.  On  the  25th 
June  1604,  he  was  admitted  a 
candidate  of  the  College  of  Phy- 
sicians of  London;  at  the  begin- 
ning of  1605  was  made  physician 
of  the  Tower ;  and  on  22d  Dec.  in 
the  snne  year,  was  chosen  a  fellow 
of  the  college.  He  kept  his  pro- 
fessorship at  Gresham  College  un- 
til Sept.  lGop,  when  he  quitted  it, 
probably  on  his  rrarriage. 

After  leaving  Gresham  C(  liege, 
he  continued  to  practise  physic 
with  success  in  London,  and  was 
much  esteemed  both  in  the  city 
and  at  court-  He  died,  according 
to  Wood,  at  his  house  in  Old  Fish 
Street  in  1627,  though  Dr.  Ward 
says  he  was  living  in  1639,  and  that 
his  name  appeared  in  the  Pharma- 
copoeia printed  in  that  year. 

««  He  was  (says  Dr.  Ward)  a 
"  man  of  quick  parts,  a  lively 
*'  fancy,  and  poetic  genius;  had 
*'  read  much,  was  well  versed  in 
"  all  sorts  of  polite  literature,  ac- 
**  curately  skilled  in  the  modern 
"  languages,  and  much  valued  for 
"  his  knowledge  and  success  in 
**■  the  practice  of  physic.  But  his 
"  Latin  style  was  formed  upon  a 
"  wrong  taste,  which  led  him  from 
"  the  natural  and  beautiful  sim- 


"  plicity  of  the  ancients,  into 
"  points  of  wit,  affected  jingle, 
"  and  scraps  of  sentences  detach- 
"  ed  from  old  authors  ;  a  custom 
"  which  at  that  time  began  to 
"  prevail  both  here  and  abroad. 
"  And  he  seems  to  have  contract- 
**  ed  this  humour  gradually,  as  it 
"  grew  more  in  vogue ;  for  his 
"  Oratio  in  Laudem  Alusicce  is  not 
'''  so  deeply  tinged  with  it  as  his 
"  Orationes  duo;,  spoken  many 
"  years  afterwards  in  Gresham 
"  College." 

Besides  several  other  pieces,  he 
wrote  two  Latin  plays,  called, 

1.  Nero.  T.  4to.  1603 ;  Svo. 
1639. 

2.  Vertumnus;  sive,  Annus  re- 
currens  Oxonii.     4to.  160/. 

Gwinnet,  Richard,  of  Great 
Shurdington,  in  Gloucestershire. 
The  name  of  this  gentleman  be- 
came more  familiar  to  the  public, 
by  means  of  his  acquaintance  with 
Mrs.  Thomas,  the  celebrated  Co- 
rinna,  than  by  any  merit  of  his 
own.  He  was  the  son  of  a  Glou- 
cestershire gentleman,  and  was 
seven  years  at  Christchurch  Col- 
lege, Oxford,  under  the  tuition  of 
Dr.  Gastrell.  He  afterwards  re- 
sided some  time  in  the  Temple, 
but  did  not  follow  the  profession 
of  the  law,  or  any  other ;  which 
seems  to  have  been  owing  to  an 
infirm  constitution,  that  was  too 
weak  to  permit  him  to  reside  in 
London.  He  died  April  16,  1717. 
having  produced  one  .  play,  en- 
titled 

The  Country  Squire ;  or,  A  Christ- 
mas  Gambol.    C.    Svo.  1732. 


303 


H. 


H  A  B 

These  initials  are  prefixed 

Two   Friends.      D.      Svo. 


-,  Eleanor.  Of  this  lady 
we  know  no  more  than  that  she 
wrote 

Matilda.     D.     1803. 

H.  W.  These  initials  are  af- 
fixed to  the  dedication  of 

The  Projectors.    C.    Svo.  1  "37. 

Habington,  William.  This 
gentleman,  who  flourished  in  the 
reign  of  King  Charles  I.  was  boih 
on  the  4th  of  Nov.  1605,  at  Hand- 
lip,  in  Worcestershire.  Being  of 
a  Roman  Catholic  family,  he  was 
sent  to  receive  the  early  parts  of 
his  education  at  Paris  and  St. 
Omer's,  where  he  was  very  ear- 
nestly entreated  to  take  on  him  the 
habit  of  a  Jesuit.  But  an  eccle- 
siastical life  being  by  no  means 
agreeable  to  his  disposition,  he  re- 
sisted all  their  solicitations,  and 
returned  to  England,  where,  by 
his  own  application,  and  the  in- 
struction of  his  father  Thomas 
Habington,  Esq.  he  made  great 
proficiency  in  the  study  of  history, 
and  other  useful  branches  of  lite- 
rature, and  became,  according  to 
the  account  given  of  him  by  Wood, 
in  his  Athen.  Oxon.  a  very  accom- 
plished gentleman. 

His  principal  bent  was  to  his- 
tory, as  is  apparent  from  his  writ- 
ing- ;  among  which  are  some  Ob- 
servations on  History,  in  1  vol.  Svo. 
and  a  History  of  Edw.  IV.  written 
and  published  at  the  desire  of  King 
Charles  I. :  yet,  for  the  amusement 
of*  some  leisure  hours,  he  wrote  a 
considerable  number  of  little  love 

VOL.  I. 


H  A  C 


poems,  published  under  the  title 
of  Castara,  and  a  play,  called 

The  Queen  of  Arragon.  Trag. 
Com.  Fol.  1640.  In  Dodsley's 
Collection. 

Of  this  he  appears  himself  to 
have  had  a  very  diffident  opinion: 
but  having  showed  it  to  Philip,  Earl 
of  Pembroke,  that  nobleman  was 
so  much  pleased  with  it;  (hat  he 
caused  it  to  be  acted  at  court,  and 
afterwards  to  b<;  published,  though 
contrary  to  the  author's  inclina- 
tion. Wood  acquaints  its,  that, 
during  the  civil  war,  Mr.  Habing- 
ton (probably  for  the  sake  of  pre- 
serving to  himself  that  calm,  which 
is  ever  most  agreeable  to  a  studi- 
ous and  sedentary  disposition)  tem- 
porized with  those  in  power,  ;ind 
was  not  unknown  to  Olivet  CrOrh- 
well :  yet,  it  is  probable,  this 
temporizing  was  no  more  than  a 
mere  non-resistance;  as  we  have  no 
account  of  his  having  been  raised 
to  any  kind  of  preferment  during 
the  Protector's  government.  He 
died  November  30,  1654,  being 
just  entered  into  his  50th  year. 
In  the  '*  Complete  History  of  Erig. 
land,"  1706,  the  first  two  volumes 
of  which  were  compiled  by  Mr. 
Hughes  the  poet,  Habingtou's  Life 
of  Edward  is  inserted,  among  other 
adopt-d  lives. 

Hacket,  Dr.  John  (miscalled 
Lacket  in  the  former  edition),  an 
English  prelate,  descended  from 
an  ancient  family,  and  born  in 
London,  Sept.  1,  \5g2.  He  was 
admitted  very  young  into  West- 
minster school  ;  and,  in  IOCS, 
elected  thence  to  Trinity  College, 
in  Cambridge.  His  uncommon 
x 


3<X) 


H  A  C 


H  A  C 


parts  and  learning  recommended 
iiim  to  particular  notice  ;  so  that, 
after  taking  the  proper  degrees,  he 
was  chosen  fellow  of  his  college, 
and  became  a  tutor  of  great  re- 
pute. One  month  in  the  long 
vacation,  retiring  with  his  pupil, 
afterwards  Lord  Byron,  into  Not- 
tinghamshire, he  there  composed 
a  Latin  Comedy,  which  was  twice 
acted  before  James  I.  entitled 
Loyola.  Printed  in  12mo.  1648. 
He  took  orders  in  1618,  and  had 
singular  kindness  shown  him  by 
Bishop  Andrews,  and  several  great 
men :  but,  above  all  others,  he 
was  regarded  by  Dr.  "Williams, 
Dean  of  Westminster  and  Bishop 
of  Lincoln.,  who,  being  appointed 
lord-keeper  of  the  great  seal  in 
1621,  chose  Hacket  for  his  chap- 
lain. In  1623,  he  was  made 
chaplain  to  James  I.  and  also  a 
prebendary  of  Lincoln  ;  and  the 
year  following,  upon  the  lord- 
keeper's  recommendation,  rector 
of  St.  Andrew's,  Holborn,  in  Lon- 
don. His  patron  also  procured 
him  the  same  year  the  rectory  of 
Cheam,  in  Surrey;  telling  him, 
that  he  intended  Holborn  for 
wealth,  and  Cheam  for  health. 

In  1625,  he  was  named  by  the 
King  himself,  to  attend  an  am- 
bassador into  Germany  ;  yet  was 
dissuaded  from  the  journey,  by 
being  told,  that,  on  account  of 
his  severe  treatment  of  the  Jesuits 
in  his  Loyola,  he  would  never  be 
able  to  go  safe,  though  in  an  am- 
bassador's train.  In  1628,  he  com- 
menced D.  D. ;  and,  in  1631,  was 
made  archdeacon  of  Bedford.  His 
church  of  St.  Andrew  being  old 
and  decayed,  he  undertook  to  re- 
build it,  and  for  that  purpose  got 
together  a  great  sum  of  money  in 
stock  and  subscriptions;  but,  upon 
the  breaking  out  of  the  civil  war, 
this  was  seized  by  the  Parliament, 


as  well  as  what  had  been  gathered 
for  the  repair  of  St.  Paul's  ca- 
thedral. March  1642,  he  was 
presented  to  a  residentiary's  place 
in  St.  Paul's,  London ;  but  the 
troubles  coming  on,  he  had  no 
enjoyment  of  it,  nor  of  his  rectory 
of  St.  Andrew's.  Besides,  some  , 
of  his  parishioners  there  having 
articled  against  him,  at  the  com- 
mittee of  plunderers,  his  friend 
Selden  told  him  it  was  in  vain  to 
make  any  defence,  and  advised 
him  to  retire  to  Cheam,  where  he 
would  endeavour  to  prevent  his 
being  molested.  He  was  disturbed 
here  by  the  Earl  of  Essex's  army, 
wrho,  marching  that  way,  took  him 
prisoner  along  with  them  ;  but  he 
was  soon  after  dismissed,  and  from 
that  time  lay  hid  in  his  retirement 
at  Cheam,  where  we  hear  no  more 
of  him,  except  that,  in  1648-9, 
he  attended  in  his  last  moments 
Henry  Rich,  Earl  of  Holland,  who 
was  beheaded  for  attempting  the 
relief  of  Colchester. 

After  the  restoration  of  Charles 
II.  he  recovered  all  his  prefer- 
ments, and  was  offered  the  bi- 
shopric of  Gloucester,  which  he 
refused ;  but  he  accepted  shortly 
after  that  of  Litchfield  and  Co- 
ventry, and  was  consecrated  Dec. 
22,  1661.  The  spring  following 
he  repaired  to  Litchfield,  where, 
finding  the  cathedral  almost  bat- 
tered to  the  ground,  he  set  up  in 
eight  years  a  complete  church 
again,  better  than  ever  it  was  be- 
fore, at  the  expense  of  20,000/. 
of  which  he  had  1000/.  from  the 
dean  and  chapter :  and  the  rest 
was  of  his  own  charge,  and  pro- 
cured from  benefactors.  He  laid 
out  1000/.  upon  a  prebendal  house, 
which  he  was  forced  to  live  in, 
his  palaces  at  Litchfield  and  Eccle- 
shall  having  been  demolished  du- 
ring the  civil  war.     He  added  to 


307 


H  A  C 


H  A  I 


Trinity  College,  in  Cambridge,  a 
building  called  Bishop's  Hostel, 
which  cost  him  1200/.  ordering 
that  the  rents  of  the  chambers 
should  be  laid  put  in  books  for  the 
college-library.  Besides  these  acts 
of  munificence,  he  left  several  be- 
nefactions by  will;  as  50/.  to  Clare 
Hall;  50/.  to  St.  John's  College; 
and  all  hij  books,  which  cost  him 
about  1500/.  to  the  university  li- 
brary. He  died  at  Litchfield,  Oc- 
tober 21,  lG/0,  and  was  buried  in 
the  cathedral,  under  a  handsome 
tomb,  erected  by  his  eldest  son 
Sir  Andrew  Hacket,  a  master  in 
chancery  ;  for  he  was  twice  mar- 
ried, and  had  several  children  by 
both  his  wives. 

He  published  only  the  comedy 
of  Loyola  above  mentioned,  and 
A  Sermon  preached  before  the  King, 
March  22,    l660 ;   but,  after   his 
decease,  A  Century  of  his  Sermons 
upon   several  remarkable  Subjects 
was  published  by  Thomas  Plume, 
D.  D.   in    1675,    folio;    and,    in 
1693,  The  Life  of  Archbishop  Wil- 
liams, folio,  of  which  an  improved 
abridgment  was  published  in  1700, 
Svo.  by  Ambrose  Philips.     He  in- 
tended to  have  written  the  Life  of 
James  I.  and  for  that  purpose  the 
lord-keeper  Williams    had   given 
him  Camden's  MS.  notes  or  an- 
nals  of   that  King's  reign  ;    but, 
these  being  lost  in  the  confusion 
of  the  times,  he  was  disabled  from 
doing  it.     He  was  a  man  of  great 
acuteness,  and  applied  himself  to 
all   parts  of  learning,   but  could 
never  make  himself  master  of  the 
oriental  languages.    He  was  deeply 
versed  in  ecclesiastical  history,  es- 
pecially as  to  what  concerned  our 
own  church.     In  the  university, 
when  young,   he  was  much   ad- 
dicted to  school-learning;  but  grew 
afterwards  weary  of  it,  as  being 
fall  of  shadows  without  substance,. 


and  containing  horrid  and  barba- 
rous terms,  more  fit,  he  would 
say,  for  incantation  than  divinity. 
He  was  a  man  of  exemplary  con- 
duct, and  as  remarkable  for  virtue 
and  piety  as  for  parts  and  learn- 
ing. 

A  writer  in  The  Gentleman's 
Magazine  (Feb.  1783)  relates  the 
following  anecdote  of  our  author's 
ecclesiastical  intrepidity  : 

"  Amidst  all  the  tyrannies,  se- 
"  questrations,  and  pillages,  made 
"  upon  the  church  of  England,  Dr. 
"  John  Hacket  showed  himself  its 
"  adherent  and  hero,  and  offered 
"  his    body  even    to   martyrdom, 
"  rather    than   disobey    its    ordi- 
"  nances.     He  was,    at    the    be/ 
"  ginning  of  the  civil  war,  rector" 
"  of  St.  Andrew's,  Holborn  ;   and 
"  when    the    Parliament,    as    the 
"  Commons    alone   called    thern- 
"  selves,   had  voted  down   the  li- 
"  turgyof  the  church  of  England, 
"  and  forbidden  the  use  of  it  under 
"  the  severest  penalties,  Dr. Hacket 
"  continued  to  read,  as  before,  the 
"daily  service;    and,    though   a 
"  Serjeant  with  a  trooper   rushed 
"  into   the   church,  commanding 
"  him  with   threats  to  desist,  he, 
"  wiih  a   steady  voice  and  intre- 
"  pid  countenance,  continued;  on 
"  which  themurderousbigot  thrust 
"  his  pistol  to  his  head,  threaten- 
"  ing  him  with  instant  death  :   the 
"  undaunted  priest  calmly  replied, 
"  '  Soldier,  I  am  doing  my  duty, 
*'  do  you  do  yours ;'  and  with  a 
'*  still  more  exalted  voice  read  on. 
"  The   soldier,  abashed,  left    the 
"  church." 

Hailes,  Lord,  one  of  the  lords 
commissioners  of  justiciary  in  Scot- 
land (formerly  Sir  David  Dalrym- 
ple),  born  at  Edinburgh  Oct.  28, 
1 726,  is  said  to  have  been  the  au- 
thor of 

X  2 


303 


H  A  1 

The  Little  Freeholder.     D.  Ent. 

nmo.  1790. 

His  Lordship  also  wrote  three 
papers  in  The  World,  viz.  Nos. 
110,  14",  and  204;  Annals  of 
Scotland,  2  vols.  4to.  1776",  and 
17/9  ;  Disquisitions  concerning  the 
Antiquity  of  the  Christian  Church, 
1/83;  and  An  Inquiry  into  the 
secondary  Causes  ivhich  Mr.Glbhon 
ftas  assigned  for  the  rapid  Growth 
of  Christianity,  4to.  1 7S6\  To  The 
Mirror,  a  periodical  paper  pub- 
lished in  Scotland,  his  Lordship 
likewise  contributed  live  papers, 
and  part  of  a  sixth  ;  viz.  Nos.  62, 
75,  S6,  97,  93,  and  part  of  46'. 

HediedNov.  29,  1792  5  having 
Written  many  other  works,  of 
which  a  list  may  be  seen  in  the 
new  edition  of  The  Encyclopaedia 
Britannica. 

Haines,  Joseph  (commonly 
called  Count  Haines).  This 
gentleman  was  a  very  eminent  low 
comedian,  and  a  person  of  great 
faceliousness  of  temper  and  readi- 
ness of  wit.  When,  or  where,  or 
of  what  parents,  he  was  born,  are 
particulars  about  which  the  histo- 
rians of  his  life  are  totally  silent. 
It  is  certain,  however,  that  the 
earlier  parts  of  his  education  were 
communicated  to  him  at  She  school 
of  St. Martin's  in  the  Fields,  where 
he  made  so  rapid  a  progress  as  to 
become  the  admiration  of  all  who 
knew  him. 

From  this  place  he  was  sent,  by 
the  voluntary  subscription  of  a 
number  of  gentlemen,  to  whose 
notice  his  quickness  of  parts  had 
strongly  recommended  him,  to 
Queen's  College,  Oxford,  where 
his  learning  and  great  fund  of  hu- 
mour gained  him  the  esteem  and. 
regard  of  Sir  Joseph  Williamson, 
who  was  afterwards  Secretary  of 
State,  and  Minister  Plenipotentiary 
at  the  concluding  of  the  peace  of 


II  A  I 


R)3wickr.;     When  Sir  Joseph  was 
appointed  to  the  first  of  those  high 
offices,  betook  our  author  as -.his 
Latin   secretary.     But    taciturnity 
not  being   one  of  those   qualities 
for  which  Haines  was  eminent,  Sir 
Joseph   found    that,    through    his 
means,  affairs  of  great  importance 
frequently  transpired,  even  before 
they  came   to   the   knowledge  of 
those  who  were  more  immediately 
concerned  in  them.  He  was,  there- 
fore, obliged  to  remove  him  from 
an  employment  for  which  he  seem- 
ed so  ill  calculated  :   he  recom- 
mended him,  however,  to  one  of 
the   heads   of    the    university   of 
Cambridge,    where    he   was   very 
kindly  received  ;    but  a  company 
of  comedians  coming  to  perform 
at  Stourbridge  fair,    Mr.  Haines 
took  so  sudden  an  inclination  for 
their  employment  and  way  of  liv- 
ing, that  he  threw  away  his  cap 
and  band,  and  immediately  joined 
their  company. 

It  was  not  long,  however,  before 
the  reputation  of  his  theatrical 
abilities  procured  him  an  invita- 
tion to  the  Theatre  Royal  in  Drury 
Lane,  where  his  inimitable  per- 
formance on  the  public  stage,  to- 
gether with  his  vivacity  and  plea- 
santry in  private  conrers3tion,  in- 
troduced him  not  only  to  the  ac- 
quaintance, but  even  the  famili- 
arity, of  persons  of  the  most  exalted 
abilities,  and  of  the  first  rank  in 
the  kingdom  ;  insomuch,  that  a 
certain  noble  Duke,  being  appoint- 
ed ambassador  to  the  French  court, 
thought  it  no  disgrace  to  take  Joe 
Haines  with  him  as  a  companion  ; 
who  being,  besides  his  knowledge 
of  the  dead  languages,  as  perfect 
roaster  of  the  French  and  Italian, 
as  if  he  had  been  a  native  of  the 
respective  capitals  of  Paris  and 
Rome,  was  greatly  caressed  by 
many  «f  the  French  nobilily. 


iog 


II  A  I 

On  his  return  from  Fiance, 
where  he  had  assumed  the  title  of 
Count,  he  again  applied  himself 
to  the  stage,  on  which  he  con- 
tinued till  1/01  ;  on  the  4th  of 
April  in  w'  icli  year  he  died  of  a 
fever,  after  a  very  shbrl  illness,  at 
bis  lodgings  in  Hart  Street,  Long 
Acre,arj  .  as1 uriodin  thechurch- 
yard  of  St.  Paul's,  Covent  Garden. 

There  is  one  dramatic  piece, 
said  to  be  his,  entitled 

A  fatal  Mistake.  P.  4to.  1692. 
But  the  composition  of  it  is  so 
very  miserable,  that  most  of  ihe 
writers  seem  inclined  to  acquit 
him  of  being  the  author  of  it. 
Yet  we  know  not  whether  that  is 
quite  a  sufficient  reason  for  so  do- 
ing ;  as  it  is  by  no  means  uncom- 
mon to  find,  among  men  of  pro- 
fessed drollery,  that  the  manner  is 
much  more  than  the  matter  ;  and 
the  table,  as  Shakspeare  has  it,  is 
often  set  in  a  roar,  by  jokes, 
which,  if  repeated,  without  the 
immediate  humour  of  the  speaker 
to  accompany  them,  would  scarce- 
ly excite  a  smile,  unless  of  con- 
tempt. And  it  is  remarkable  of  the 
very  person  we  are  now  treating 
of,  that  some  of  his  prologues  and 
epilogues,  which  used  to  force 
thunder-claps  of  applause  from  the 
audience,  when  spoken  by  himself, 
and  according  to  his  own  concep- 
tions in  the  writing  of  them,  ap- 
pear but  flat  and  insipid  when  we 
come  to  read  them  in  the  closet. 
We  do  not  mean  this,  however, 
in  any  degree  to  depreciate  Mr. 
Haines's  merit.  That  he  possessed 
a  great  share  of  genuine  wit,  we  do 
not  in  the  least  question  ;  and  al- 
though every  jest-book  will  furnish 
numbers  of  droll  turns  of  humour, 
which  are  said  to  have  come  from 
him,  we  think  we  cannot  better 
close  this  account  of  him,  than  by 
the  repetition  of  one  undoubtedly* 


H  A  M 

authentic  bon-mot  of  his,  handed 
down  to  11s  by  his  contemporary 
Colley  Cibber,  who,  in  his  Apo- 
logy, relates  this  story :  *  Joe 
"  Haines  (says  he),  being  asked 
"  what  could  transport  Collier  in- 
"  to  so  blind  a  zeal  for  the  general 
"  suppression  of  the  stage,  when 
"  only  some  particular  authors  had 
"  abused  it;  whereas  the  stage,  he 
"  could  not  but  know,  was  gene- 
"  rally  allowed,  when  rightly  con- 
"  ducted,  to  be  a  delightful  me- 
"  thod  of  mending  our  morals?" 
— "  For  that  very  reason  (replied 
"  Haines):  Collier  is  by  profession 
"a  moral-mender  himself;  and 
"  two  of  a  trade,  you  know,  can 
"  never  agree." 

Hall,  Robert,  was  author  of 

Tlix  Old  Quizzes.  M.  F.  12mo, 
1779. 

Hallam,  A.  This  gentleman 
translated  The  Beggar's  Opera  into 
French,  under  the  title  of 

L'  Opera  du  Gueuv ;  avec  les 
Chansons,  sur  les  Airs  Anglois. 
Representee  sur  le  Petit  Theatre 
Francois  dans  Marche  au  Foin. 
8vo.  1750. 

Halloran,  L.  H.  under  the 
assumed  name  of  Philo-Nauticus, 
wrote 

The  Female  Volunteer.  Dr.  8vo. 
1801. 

Hamilton,  Charles.  Of  this 
person  we  know  no  more  than 
that  he  was  author,  or  rather 
translator,  of 

The  Patriot.  Trag.  Svo.  N.D. 
[17S4.] 

Hamilton,  Xlwburgh.  This 
gentleman  lived  in  the  family  of 
the  Duke  of  Hamilton,  and  was 
probably  related  to  his  Grace.  He 
wrote  three  pieces,  entitled, 

1.  Doating  Lovers.  Com.  12mo, 
1715. 

2.  Petticoat  Plotter,  Far.  12mo. 
1720. 

x  3 


310 


H  A  R 

-  Neither  of  these  pieces  met  with 
success.  The  first  of  them,  how- 
ever, was  supported  through  three 
performances,  for  the  sake  of  the 
author's  benefit,  whose  interest 
was  so  strong,  and  his  acquaint- 
ance so  extensive,  that  he  was  en- 
abled to  lay  the  pit  and  boxes  to- 
gether, at  the  advanced  price  of 
six  shillings  for  each  ticket. 

3.  Sampson.  Orat.  4to.  17-13. 

Hammond,  William.  This 
writer  is  mentioned  no  where  but 
in  The  British  Theatre ;  where  he 
is  said  to  have  been  a  young  gen- 
tleman in  the  army,  and  to  have 
-written  a  dramatic  piece,  of  one 
act,  entitled 

The  Preceptor.  Ball.  Opera. 
12mo.   1740. 

Harbach,  William,  announ- 
ced, about  twenty-five  years  ago,  as 
intended  for  speedy  publication. 

The  Roman  Daughter.  T.  Not 
printed,  we  believe. 

Hakdham,  Fqhn.  This  au- 
thor, when  living,  was  well  known 
among  persons  of  genius  and  taste. 
He  was  born  at  Chichester,  and 
bred  a  lapidary  or  diamond-cutter ; 
but  afterwards  became  more  emi- 
nent in  another  profession,  being 
at  the  time  of  his  death  possessed  of 
the  greatest  snuff-trade  in  or  about 
this  metropolis.  His  shop  was  at 
the  Red  Lion,  near  Fleet  Market, 
in  Fleet  Street.  Besides  this,  he 
had  for  some  years  been  principal 
numberer  and  under-treasurer  to 
the  Theatre  Royal  in  Di  ury  Lane. 
What  i\Tr.  Hardhain's  advantages 
from  education  were,  we  never 
heard  ;  but,  by  the  dint  of  strong 
natural  parts,  and  good  breeding, 
he  rendered  himself  agreeable  to 
numbers  of  the  most  considerable 
wits  and  critics  of  the  age;  and 
even  himself  made  one  attempt  in 
the  dramatic  way,  which,  although, 
we  believe,  it  was  not  even  in- 


H  A  R 

tended  for  the  stage,  is  in  print, 
and  is  tar  from  being  devoid  of 
genius  or  poetical  imagination.  It 
is  entitled 

The  Fortune  Tellers.  A  Medley. 
8vo.  N.  D. 

Mr  Hardham,  however,  was  at 
once  a  patron  and  preceptor  to 
many  oi  our  candidates  for  his- 
trionic laurels.  He  was  therefore 
seldom  without  embryo  Richards 
and  Hotspurs  strutting  and  bellow- 
ing in  his  dining-room,  or  the 
parlour  behind  his  shop.  The 
latter  of  these  apartments  was 
adorned  with  heads  of  most  of  the 
persons  celebrated  for  dramatic  ex- 
cellence, and  to  these  he  frequent- 
ly referred  in  the  course  of  his 
instructions. 

There  is  one  circumstance,  how- 
ever, in  his  private  character,  which 
deserves  a  more  honourable  rescue 
from  oblivion.  His  charity  was 
extensive  in  an  uncommon  degree, 
and  was  conveyed  to  many  of  its 
objects  in  the  most  delicate  man- 
ner. On  account  of  his  known 
integrity  (for  he  once  failed  in 
business  more  creditably  than  he 
could  have  made  a  fortune  by  it), 
he  was  often  intrusted  with  the 
care  of  paying  little  annual  stipends 
to  unfortunate  women,  and  others 
who  were  equally  in  want  of  relief; 
and  he  has  been  known,  with  a 
generosity  almost  unexampled,  to 
continue  these  annuities,  long  after 
the  sources  of  them  had  been  stop- 
ped by  the  deaths  or  caprices  of 
the  persons  who  at  first  supplied 
them.  At  the  same  time  he  per- 
suaded the  receivers  that  their 
money  was  remitted  to  him  as 
usual  through  its  former  channel. 
Indeed  his  purse  was  never  shut 
even  to  those  who  were  casually 
recommended  by  his  common  ac- 
quaintance. He  died  in  September 
1772,  and,  by  his  v'ilh.  bequeathed 


H  A  R 

the  interest  of  twenty  thousand 
pounds  to  a  female,  who,  after 
the  death  of  his  wife,  had  gained 
but  too  strong  an  ascendancy  over 
him  ;  and  at  her  decease  the  prin- 
cipal, &c.  to  his  native  city,  to 
lessen  the  poor's  rates  there,  The 
consequence  is,  that  the  rates  are 
very  much  lowered ;  but  the  rents 
of  houses  are,  on  that  account,  so 
much  increased,  that  the  gift  has 
been  a  detriment,  instead  of  an 
advantage. 

These  particulars,  which  reflect 
such  honour  on   Mr.  Hardham's 
memory,  deserve  to  be  as  generally 
known  as  his  popular  sort  of  snuff", 
entitled  37  ;    a  combination  of  fi- 
gures which,  in  the  public  opinion, 
continues  to  stand  at  least  as  high 
as  did  once  the  political  number  45 . 
Harding,  Samuel,    was   the 
son  of  Robert  Harding,  of  Ipswich, 
in  Suffolk.     He  was  born  in  the 
year  1618;  and,  as  Wood  says, 
became    a    sojourner  of   Exeter 
College,  Oxford,  in  the  year  1634, 
where,  in  1638,  he  took  one  de- 
gree in  arts.     He  afterwards  be- 
came chaplain  to  a  nobleman ;  and 
about   the    beginning,   or  in    the 
heat  of  the  civil  war,  died;  having 
written  one  play,  called 

Sicily  and  Naples ;  or,  The  Fa- 
tal Union.     T.  4to.    1640. 

Harper,  Samuel.  An  author 
now  unknown.  He  published  one 
play,  called 

The  Mock  Philosopher.  C.  1 2mo. 
1737. 

Harplsy,  T.     An  author  only 
known  to  us  as  having  published, 
•1.   The  Genius  of  Liverpool.  Dr. 
8vo.   1/00. 

2.  The  Milliners.  Burl.  Svo. 
1790. 

3.  The  Triumph  of  Fidelity.  Dr. 
in  Rhyme.  8vo.  17Q0. 

Harris,  James,  author  of 
those  four   valuable  works,    en- 


311 

H  A  R 

titled,  (1.)   Three  Treatises;  1st, 
Concerning  Art;  2d,  Music,  Paint- 
ing, and  Poetry ;  and  3d,  Happi- 
ness.   (2.)  Hermes;  A  Philosophi- 
cal Enquiry  concerning  Universal 
Grammar.    (3.)  Philosophical  Ar- 
rangements.   (4.)  Philological  En- 
quiries.    He  was  one  of  the  sons 
of  a  gentleman  of  the  same  names 
by  Lady  Elizabeth  his  wife,  third 
daughter  of  Anthony  second  Earl 
of  Shaftesbury,  and  sister  to  the 
celebrated  author  of  The  Charac- 
teristics. He  was  born  in  the  Close 
of  Sarum,    July   20,    1709,    and 
educated  under  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hill, 
master  of  the   public  grammar- 
school   there.      From  thence  he 
went,  in  1726,  to  Wad  ham  Col- 
lege, in  Oxford,  as  a  gentleman 
commoner,   but  did   not  receive 
any  degree.     We  do  not  find  that 
he  ever  took  any  active  part  in 
public  life  until   1761,  when  he 
was  elected  M.P.forChrist  Church, 
Hants.     In  the  year  1762  he  was 
nominated  one  of  the  Lords  of  the 
Admiralty;  which  he  soon  gave 
up;    and,  on  the  16th  of  April 
1763,  was  appointed  to  a  seat  on 
the  Treasury  bench  ;  a  post  which 
he  held  until  July  12,  1765.     In 
1774,  he  was  appointed  Secretary 
and  Comptroller  to  the  Queen ; 
in  which  situation  he  continued, 
until   his  death,    Dec.  22,   178O. 
He  was  the  author  of  one  small 
piece,  called 

The  Spring.  Past.  4to.  1762. 
His  life  and  works  have  been  pub- 
lished by  his  son,  the  Earl  of 
Malmesbury,  in  2  vols.  4fo;  1801. 
Harris,  Joseph.  This  person 
(probably  a  seal-engraver  by  trade, 
as,  on  the  accession  of  Queen 
Anne,  he*  was  appointed  engraver 
to  the  Mint)  was  a  comedian,  but 
of  no  great  reputation  in  his  pro- 
fession. Yet,  as  Jacob  informs 
us,  by  the  assistance  of  bis  friends. 
x4 


312 


H  A  R 

he  aimed  at  being  an  author,  and 
produced  the  four  following  dra- 
matic pieces ;  all  of  which  seem 
to  have  miscarried  in  the  repre- 
sentation, viz. 

1 .  The   Mistakes,     T.  C.    4to. 

2.  The  City  Bride.  C.  4to. 
1696. 

3.  Love's  a  Lottery,  and  a  IVo- 
man  the  Prize.     C.  4io.  IO99. 

4.  Love  and  Riches  reconciled. 
M.  4to.  1699. 

Harrison,  Lieutenant  Ni- 
cholas Bacon,  of  the  Marines, 
published  one  drama : 

The  Travellers.  Q,  Syo.  17SS, 
1/89. 

Harrison,  Thomas,  was  mi- 
nister of  the  dissenting  congrega- 
tion in  Little  Wild  Street.  On 
March  16,  1 728-9,  he  preached 
the  funeral  sermon  of  Dame  Mary 
Page,  at  Devonshire  Square.  He 
afterwards  conformed,  and  receiv- 
ed episcopal  ordination  from  the 
bishop  of  London,  Sept.  14,  1729, 
at  St.  Leonard's  Foster  Lane,  and 
preached  a  recantation  sermon 
there.  He,  on  the  15th  of  Feb. 
J729,  preached  a  sermon  at  Rat- 
chffe^  in  Leicestershire,  on  his  in- 
troduction to  that  cure ;  and  all 
these  sermons  are  in  print.  He  is 
also  the  author  of  one  drama, 
called 

"  B'dteshaxxar ;    or,    The  Heroic 
Jew.  D.  P.   12mo.  1727. 

Harrison,  William.  This 
author  was  a  man  of  mean  em- 
ployment, being  by  trade  no  other 
than  a  patten-maker.  Yet  he  was 
esteemed  to  be  master  of  excellent 
natural  parts,  He  wrote  one  play, 
which,  though  if  was  never  acted, 
probably  from  want  of  interest,  is 
far  from  being  devoid  of  merit 3  it 
is  entitled 

The  Pilgrirjis.  D.  E.  4to.  1701. 
Harrqd,  \V.    Tl}i2  writer  was 


H  A  R 

a  Kentish  man,  born  in  the  town 
which  he  has  celebrated  in  a  de- 
scriptive poem,  called  Sevenoke. 
4to.  1753.  He  likewise  wrote  one 
play,  viz. 

The  Patriot.  T.  Svo.   1769. 
Hart,   Charles.     A   Scotch 
gentleman,     who    produced    one 
play,  acted  at  Edinburgh,  called 

Herminius  and  Espasia.  T.  8vo. 
1754. 

Hartson,  Hall,  was  a  native 
of  Ireland;  and,  if  our  information 
be  not  erroneous,  was  brought  up 
at  the  university  of  Dublin  in  the 
lowest  rank  of  students.     He  was 
patronized,  however,  by  the  cele- 
brated Dr.  Leland,  who  is  supposed 
to  have  afforded  him  material  as- 
sistance in  the  only  dramatic  piece 
he  has  written.     He  quitted  his 
country  in  the  character  of  tutor 
to  a  young  gentleman  of  fortune, 
whom  he  accompanied  to  London. 
Before  he  had  attained  the  age  of 
thirty,  he  had  made  the  tour  of  Eu- 
rope three  times,  and  was  deemed 
a  young  man  of  fine  parts,  great 
accomplishments,     and     amiable 
manners.     He  became  acquainted 
with  the  celebrated  Hugh  Boyd, 
who  invited  him  to  his  house  at 
Kenton  Green,  that  he  might  have 
the  benefit  of  change  of  air,  being 
then  of  a  consumptive  habit;   but 
his  malady  was  too  far  advanced 
to  admit  of  any  cure.    After  being 
many   weeks   at    Kenton   Green, 
Mr.  Hartson   returned  to   town, 
and  died   in  a   few  days  (March 
1773),  without  leaving  any  other 
effects   than    a    few    manuscript 
poems  and    plays   to  Griffin  the 
bookseller,  whom  he  had  appoint- 
ed his  executor,  and  to  whom  he 
had  been  probably  indebted.   Boyd, 
knowing  Hartson's  distressed  cir- 
cumstances, called  on  Griffin,  th$ 
moment    he   heard  of  his  death, 
and  humanely  offered  h\s  service^; 


3\3 


H  A  T 

Griffin  begged  he  would  order  and 
manage  the  funeral;  which,  though 
at  that  time  as  much  embarrassed 
as  had  been  his  deceased  friend, 
he  generously  did,  and  for  which 
Griffin  afterwards  refused  to  pay ; 
pleading,  in  excuse,  that  the  ma- 
nuscripts were  of  no  value.  Not 
long  before  his  death  he  published 
a  poem,  entitled  Youth.  He  also 
wrote 

The  Countess  of  Salisbury.  T. 
Svo.    I/07. 

Harwood,  Thomas,  educated 
at  Eton  ;  afterwards  of  University 
College-,  Oxford,  and  master  of 
Lichfield  school.  He  published 
Annotations  on  Genesis,  in  one  vo- 
lume, Svo.  I78Q;  two  volumes  of 
Sermons,  1/94;  and  a  4to.  volume 
(1797)  called  Alumni  Etonenses ; 
containing  an  account  of  the 
members  of  Eton  College,  from 
the  year  1443  to  1/97-  His  claim 
to  a  place  in  the  present  work 
arises  from  his  having  published 
one  play,  viz. 

Tiie  Death  of  Dion.     T.  Svo. 

i;s7. 

He  was  author  of  several  let- 
ters in  The  Gentleman's  Magazine, 
with  the  signature  of  Clio.  He 
also  penned  Observations  on  the 
Writings  of  Dr.  Johnson  ;  but  we 
know  not  whether  these  were  ever 
published.  He  likewise  wrote  a 
tragedy  which  was  performed  at 
the  Norwich  Theatre  in  1/S7,  but 
we  have  not  heard  its  title.  The 
author  was  then  resident  at  Laven- 
ham,  near  Sudbury,  Suffolk. 

Hatchett,  William.  This 
author  was  a  performer  on  the 
stage,  though  he  seems  never  to 
have  risen  to  much  eminence  in 
that  profession.  He  acted  a  part 
in  his  first  play,  as  did  Mrs.  Hay- 
vtcod,  with  whom  he  lived  upon 
terms  of  friendship,  and  joined 
•with  her  in  converting  Fielding's 
2 


H  A  U 

Tom   Thumb  into  an  opera.     Be- 
sides this,  he  was  the  author  of, 

1 .  The  Rival  Father ;    or,  The 
Death  r,f  Achilles.     T.  Svo.    1/3C. 

2.  The  Chinese  Orphan.     H.T. 
Svo.   1741. 

H  ATM  W  AYE,       RlCHAHD.         To 

this  author  are  ascribed  the  follow- 
ing dramas  : 

1.  Arthur,    King  of  England, 
Play.   159S.  N.  P."" 

2.  As  Merry  as  may  be.   Plav. 
1603.     NT.  P. 

3.  The  Black  Dog  of  Newgale. 
Play.   1002.   N.  P. 

4.  The  Boast  of  Billir>°spale.  P. 
1602.  N.  P. 

5.  TheFortunatcGeneral. French 
History.    1602.  N.  P. 

Haughton,  William,  wrote 
the  following  drnmalic  pieces  : 

1 .  A  Woman  will  have  her 
Will.  Play.  1578.  4to.  ]631. 
[See  Englishmen  for  my  Money, 
in  Vol.  II.] 

2.  T'ie  Arcadian  Virgin.  Play. 
1599.  N.P. 

3.  John  Cox.     Tr.   15 99.  N.P. 

4.  Poor    Man's    Paradise.       P. 

1599.  N.P. 

5.  Spanish  Morris.  P.  1599. 
N.P. 

6.  Thomas  Merry.   T.  1599. 

7.  The   English   Fugitives.     P. 

1600.  N.P. 

8.  Ferrex  and  For  rex.  P.  1600. 
N.P. 

9.  Robin  Hood's  Penn'orths.  P. 
16*00.  N.P. 

10.  Seven  Wise  Masters.  P. 
1600.     N.  P. 

1 1 .  Strange  News  out  of  Po- 
land.     P.   1000.  N.  P. 

12.  The  Conquest  of  Spain. 
lGOl.  N.  P. 

13.  The  Conquest  of  the  West 
Indies.    P.   lGOl.  N*  P. 

14.  Judas.     P.   1601.  N.  P. 

15.  Proud  Woman  of  Antwerp. 
P.  1601.  N.  P- 


314 


H  A  U 

Id.  17.  Six  Clothiers  of  the  West. 
P.  In  two  Parts.  16OI.  N.  P. 

IS.  Six  Yeomen  of  t lie  West.  P. 
1001.  N.P. 

19.  Thomas  Dough.  P.  ldOl. 
N.P. 

20.  Thomas  Siroitde.  P.   ldOl. 
21     William.     Cartwright.      P. 

Id02.  N.  P. 

22.  Patient  Grissel  C.  4to. 
1603. 

Hausted,  Peter.  This  gen- 
tleman was  born  at  Oundle,  in 
Northamptonshire,  towards  the  be- 
ginning of  the  reign  of  King  James 
the  First.  He  received  his  educa- 
tion at  Queen's  College,  Cam- 
bridge,where,  after  passing  through 
the  proper  exercises,  he  took  his 
degree  as  master  of  arts;  and,  after 
quitting  the  university,  entering 
into  holy  orders,  be  became,  first, 
curate  of  Uppingham,  in  Rutland- 
shire ;  afterwards  rector  of  Had- 
ham,  in  Hertfordshire,  and  vicar 
of  Gretton,  in  Northamptonshire, 
where  he  accounted  for  the  first 
fruits,  March  13,  IdSQ.  In  1641, 
he  had  a  degree  of  doctor  of  divi- 
nity conferred  on  him. 

On  the  breaking  out  of  the  civil 
wars,  he  was  made  chaplain  to 
Spencer  Earl  of  Northampton,  to 
whom  he  adhered  in  all  his  en- 
gagements for  the  royal  interest, 
and  was  with  him  in  the  c3stle  of 
Banbury,  in  Oxfordshire,  at  the 
very  time  it  made  so  vigorous  a  de- 
fence against  the  Parliament's  force. 
In  that  castle,  as  Wood,  in  his 
Fasti,  informs  us,  Dr.  Hausted 
concluded  his  last  moments  in  the 
year  1045,  and  was  buried  within 
the  precincts  of  it,  or  else  in  the 
church  belonging  to  Banbury. 

Both  Langbaine  and  Wood  give 
this  author  the  character  of  a  very 
ingenious  man,  and  a  good  poet; 
all  the  testimonials  we  have  extant 
pf  the  latter  character  are,  a  trans- 


Pi  A  V 
lation  of  Thorius's  Hymuus  Talad, 
and  two  dramatic  pieces,  the  first 
of  which,  it  is  pretty  apparent  from 
the  very  title-page,  met  with  but 
indifferent  success.  They  are  en- 
titled, 

1.  The  Rival  Friends.     C.  4to. 
Id32. 

2.  Senile  Odium.  C.12mo.ld33. 

Havard,  William.  This  gen- 
tleman was  an  actor  belonging  to 
the  Theatre  Royal  in  Drury  Lane. 
He  was  the  son  of  a  vintner  in 
Dublin,  and  served  his  time  as  ap- 
prentice to  a  surgeon  ;  but,  having 
an  early  inclination  for  the  stage, 
he  quitted  the  profession  he  was 
intended  for,  and  engaged  himself 
first  at  the  theatre  in  Goodman's 
Fields,  from  whence  he  removed 
to   the  Theatres   B.oyal,  in   both 
of  which  he  was  at  different  tiroes 
received.     As  an  actor,  he  stood 
in  very  good  estimation  with  the 
public.      His  person  was  comely 
r>nd   genteel,  his  voice  clear  and  ' 
ai'ticulate,  and   his   critical  judg- 
ment, and  perfect  understanding 
of  the   meaning   of    his   author, 
shone  forth  conspicuously  in  every 
part  he  performed.     He  did  not 
want  feeling;  but,  from  a  degree 
of  monotony,  which  seemed  na- 
tural to  his  voice,  he  sometimes 
fell  short  with  respect  to  impas- 
sioned execution.     He  was,  how- 
ever, always  decent,  sensible,  and 
perfect,  and  acquired  an   ease  in 
his  manner  and  deportment,  which 

it  is  uncommon  to  meet  with,  and 
which  rendered  him,  if  not  a  ca- 
pital, at  least  a  very  useful,  per- 
former; and  if,  on  any  occasion, 
necessity  or  accident  threw  him 
into  parts  which  might  appear 
above  the  rank  of  characters 
which  he  usually  filled,  he  con- 
stantly made  way  through  them 
with  less  disgust  than  some  per- 
formers would  have  dooe,  who, 


315 


H  A  V 

with  greater  particular  beauties, 
intermingled  an  equal  number  of 
glaring  deformities. 

As  an  author,  Mr.  Havard  stood 
nearly  in  the  same  predicament 
that  he  did  as  an  actor ;  for,  though 
much  inferior  to  our  first-rate  dra- 
matists, he  was  at  the  same  time 
as  greatly  superior  to  many  whose 
pieces  have  even  met  with  success. 
Good  sense,  correctness,  and  sen- 
sibility, ran  through  his  writings; 
and  though  he  did  not  astonish  us 
with  the  sublime  flashes  of  a  Shak- 
speare,  or  touch  our  hearts  with 
the  tender  sensations  of  an  Otway, 
yet  he  neither  started  out  into  the 
puerile  bombast  of  a  Banks,  nor 
sunk  into  the  unim  passioned  prosai- 
cal  coldness  of  a  Trapp.  In  a  word, 
the  sensible  lesson  of  the  medio  tu- 
tissimus  His  seemed  to  be  the  rule 
of  Mr.  Havard's  conduct,  both  on 
the  stage  and  in  the  study ;  and, 
indeed,  he  appeared  to  nave  suffi- 
ciently availed  himself  of  an  adhe- 
rence to  this  maxim  ;  the  silent 
attention  constantly  paid  to  his 
performance  in  the  theatre  avouch- 
ing the  truth  of  it  on  the  one  hand  ; 
and  the  success  his  dramatic  pieces, 
especially  one  of  them,  met  with  on 
their  representation,  evincing  it  on 
the  other.  The  names  of  his  piays, 
which  are  four  in  number,  are  as 
follow  : 

1.  Scanderleg,     T.  Svo.  1/33. 

2.  King  Charles  the  First.  H.T. 
Svo.    1737. 

3.  Rtgulus.   T.  Svo.  1744. 

4.  The  Elopement.  F.  1763. 
N.  P. 

Mr.  Havard  was  moreover,  in 
his  private  character,  extremely- 
amiable  ;  being  polite,  humane,  and 
friendly.  In  a  word,  he  wa.s  ge- 
nerally esteemed  and  beloved  by 
all  who  knew  him.  He  continued 
on  the  stage  until  the  year  1769  ; 
when,  finding  the  infirmities   of 


H  A  V 

age  increasing,  he  took  leave  of 
the  theatre  in  form,  in  an  epilogue 
written  and  spoken  by  himself, 
after  the  play  of  Zara,  in  which 
Mr.  Garrick  acted  for  his  benefit. 
He  retired  first  to  Islington ;  but 
being  there  not  so  near  his  friends 
as  he  wished,  he  returned  to  the 
lodgings  he  had  formerly  occupied 
in  Tavistock  Street,  where,  after  a 
lingering  illness,  he  died  the  20th 
of  February  1778,  at  the  age  of 
63  years,  and  was  buried  in  Covent 
Garden  churchyard,  under  a  stone, 
with  the  following  epitaph,  writ- 
ten by  Mr.  Garrick,  as  "  A  Tri- 
bute to  the  Memory  of  a  Charac- 
ter he  long  knew  and  respected  : 

'  An  honest  man  's  the  noblest 

work  of  God.' 

Havard  from  sorrow  rests  beneath  this 

stone ; 
An  honest  man— — belov'd  as  soon  as 

known  : 
Howe'er  defective  in  the  mimic  art, 
In  real  life  he  justly  pl.iy'd  his  part ! 
The  noblest  character  he  actrd  well, 
And  Heav'n  applauded — when  the  cur- 
tain 'ell." 

Previous  to  Mr.  Havard's  bene- 
fit, in  1752,  the  celebrated  Henry 
Fielding  inserted  the  following  eu- 
logium  on  him,  in  The  Covent 
Garden  Journal,   No.  2S  : 

"  Mr.  Havard  is  the  successor 
"  of  the  first  Mr.  Mills,  in  most  of 
'*  his  parts  on  the  stage,  and  he 
"  no  less  resembles  the  character 
"  of  Mr.  Mills  in  his  life,  being  a 
"  sober,  worthy,  honest  man. 

'*  The  good  judgment  of  the 
"  managers  shows  itself  therefore 
"  in  their  disposition  of  those  parts 
"  to  Mr.  Havard's  share,  where 
"  ali  the  amiable  qualities  of  hu- 
"  man  nature  are  to  be  displayed; 
"  since  he  who  exerts  these  qua- 
"  lilies  in  private  life  is  the  most 
"  likely  to  represent  them  well  on 
"  the  stage;  such  are  Horatio j 
u.  the  Friar,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet, 


310 


H  A  W 

-'  kc.  Mr.  Havard  says,  Mr.  Gar- 
"  rick  always  acts  the  part  of  my 
"  friend,  and  whether  on  the  stage 
'*  or  off  I  never  desire  a  better. 
*  "  Characters  of  this  kind  (as 
"  well  the  real  as  the  personated) 
'■*.  seldom  strike  us  in  a  verv  glar- 
"  ing  light,  or  carry  off"  any  loud 
»•  applause  on  the  theatre  or  in  (he 
"  world;  but  in  both  cases  the}' 
"  never  fail  to  please  the  good  and 
"  truly  judicious ;  and  in  both 
"  cases  there  mnst  be  great  merit 
"  to  preserve  such  a  character,  and 
"  to  supjxjrt  it  well  throughout. 
"  I  have  heard  it  further  said  of 
"  Mr.  Havard,  that  no  man  feels 
"  an  obligation  with  more  warmth, 
"  while  none  can  be  less  suscep- 
"  tible  of  any  little  injury  done  to 
"  his  theatrical  abilities.  Here 
"  another  parallel  may  be  drawn 
"  between  this  amiable  kind  of 
"  character  in  life  and  on  the 
"  stage.  In  both  it  is  often  op- 
<c  pressed  by  the  forward,  the  in- 
"  solent,  and  the  worthless.  I  am 
*•'  afraid  Mr.  Havard  hath  expe- 
;  "  rienced  come  such  treatment,  in 
•'*  having  his  benefit  so  Jong  post- 
"  poned  ;  since,  except  Mr.  Gar- 
"  rick,  I  do  not  know  that  he 
"  hath  any  superior  in  tragedy,  at 
"  tl;a.t  house. 

"  However  my  readers  may 
"  agree  with  me  in  this,  there 
"  are  few,  I  am  convinced,  who 
"  will  not  think  it  a  great  addi- 
"  tion  to  their  entertainment,  on 
"  Saturday  next,  to  reflect  that 
"  they  are  contributory  to  the 
"  ease  and  to  the  happiness  of  a 
"  sensible,  modest,  and  good-na- 
"  tirred  man  ;  and  of  that  family 
"  of  which  he  is  the  worthy 
"  master." 

Hawker,  Essex.  This  author 
was  a  performer  at  the  Theatre  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  Field?,  and  produced 
*ae  piece,  called 


H  A  W 

The  Country  11 "aiding  and  5, . 
mi/igton.  T.C.P.  F.O.  yvo.  If29 
Afterwards  called 

The  Wedding. 

Hav.  kesworth, ,  a  gen- 
tleman of  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge, is  the  reputed  author  of  a 
Latin  play,  acted  before  King 
James,  and  called 

Lalyrinthus.     C.   12mo.   1636. 

Hawkesworth,  John,  LL.D. 
This  gentleman  was  born  in  the 
year  1/fO.  Early  in  life  he  was 
clerk  to  an  attorney.  He  was  like- 
wise of  the  sect  of  Presbyterians, 
andamemberofthecelebratedTom 
Bradbury's  meeting,  from  which 
he  was  expelled  for  some  irregu- 
larities. He  afterwards  devoted  his 
attention  to  literature,  and  became 
an  author  of  considerable  eminence. 
In  17-i'J,  7,  S,  and  0,  he  was  a 
poetical  contributor  to  The  Gentle- 
man'*  Magazine,  under  the  ficti- 
tious name  of  Greville.  We  must 
also  mention  his  translation  of  Te~ 
lemachus,  4to.  and  his  novel  of  Al- 
mr.ran  end  Hamet.  He  likewise 
distinguished  himself  as  editor  and 
chief  writer  of  a  series  of  periodi- 
cal essays,  under  the  title  of  The 
Adventurer.  His  degree  of  LL.D. 
was  given  him,  honoris  gratia,  by 
Archbishop  Herring.  He  would 
have  practised  in  the  commons ; 
but  that  was  opposed  by  the  uni- 
versity doctors.  The  story  of  his 
Almoran  and  Hamet  has  been 
brought  on  the  stage  by  Mr.  Pratt, 
in  his  Fair  Circassian.  Dr.  H. 
originally  wrote  it  in  1/56,  as -a 
drama  in  three  acts  j  which  Mr. 
Garrick  would  have  brought  on 
the  stage,  had  he  not  been  afraid  of 
the  expense  of  decorations,  trans- 
formations, &c.  having  just  lost 
4000/.  by  The  Chinese  Festival.  In 
the  early  part  of  his  life,  Hawkes- 
worth's  circumstances  were  rather 
con  lined.     He  resided  some  time 


iiy 


H  A.W 

&t  Bromley,  in  Kent,  where  his 
r.spt  a  boarding-school,  which 
they  relinquished  in  order  to  ac- 
commodate two   women   of  for- 
tune   who    came    to    reside    with 
them.       He    af-erwards    became 
known  to  a  lady   who  had   great 
property  and   interest  in  the  Eaat 
India  company,  and  through   her 
means  was   chosen  a  director  of 
that  body.     When  the  design   of 
compiling  a  narrative   of  the  dis- 
coveries in    the  South    Seas   was 
suggested,  he   was  recommended 
as  a  proper  person  to  he  employ- 
ed on  the  occasion.    'This  task  he 
executed,  and  is  said  to  have  re- 
ceived for  it  the  enormous  sum  of 
0000/.  His  work, however, though 
written    with    elegance,    whether 
through   want  of  accuracy  in  the 
narrative,    or  from  some  notions 
which    were    propagated  in  it  of 
an  heterodox  cast,  or  on  account 
of  particular  occurrences  too  lux- 
uriantly described,  did  not  afford 
that  complete  satisfaction   which 
.was  expected  from  it.     In  conse- 
quence of  his  situation  as  an  East 
India  director,  and  of  his  connex- 
ion   with     the    Admiralty    while 
writing  the  above  work,    it  has 
been  suggested  that  he  injured  his 
health  by  too  freely  indulging  in 
the  pleasures  of  the  table,  which 
brought  on  a  fever,  of  wdiich  he 
died  at  a  friend's  house  in   Lime 
Street,  Nov.    1~,    17/3.     He   i3 
the  author  of, 

1.  Ampkytrion.      C.      altered, 
3to.   I756. 

2.  Oroofioko.    T.    altered,  Svo. 
1/59. 

3.  Zimri.     Orat.     4to.   I76O. 

4.  Edgar  a?id  Emmeline.    Fairy 
Tale.     Svo.   176I. 

5.  The  Fall  of  Egypt.     Orat. 
4to.   1774. 

Hawkins,  William.    An  au- 
thor of  the!7th  century,  who  was 


R  A  Vi 

master  of  Hadleigh  school,  and 
while  in  that  cap-city  wrote  ftifc 
the  use  of  his  scholars  one  pierce, 
called, 

Apollo  skrovhig.  C.  Svo,   1627. 

He  also  published,  "  Corolla 
"  varia  contexts  per  Guil.  Hau- 
<:  kiuum  sebolarcham  Hadleia- 
'•'  num  in  agro  Sutfolcienci.  Can- 
'•'  tabr.  ap.  Tho.  Buck."  10'3-E 
l'imo. 

Hawkins,     William.       This 
gentleman  was  son   to  the  cele- 
brated  Serjeant  Hawkins,  whose 
excellent  treatise    on   the   crown 
law  is  in  great  estimation  among 
the  professors  of  that  branch  of 
jurisprudence.      He   received  his 
education    at    the    university   of 
Oxford,  where  he  was  sometime 
fellow  of  Pembroke  College,  and 
took  the  degree  of  master  of  arts 
April  10,  1714.     On  the  resigna- 
tion of  the  poetry  professorship  by 
Dr.   Lowth,    he    succeeded    him 
Juno  0",   1751.     Besides  his   dra- 
matic works,  he  is  the  author  of 
several  other  performances,   par- 
ticularly 3  vols,   of  Miscellanies, 
Svo.  1758;  a  translation  in  blank 
verse   of  part    of  the  sEneid   of 
Virgil;   Sermons;  and   Poems  on 
various  Subjects,  12mo.  17S2    He 
was  rector  of  Little  Casterton  in 
Rutlandshire ;  and  at  the  time  of 
his  death,  in  July  1S01,  vicar  of 
Whitechurch,    Dorsetshire.     His 
plays  are, 

1 .  Henry   and  Rosamond.     T. 
8vo.   17-19;   Svo.   1758. 

2.  The  Siege  of  Aleppo.  T.  Svo. 
1/5S.  '    v 

3.  Cymbeline.  T.  Svo.  -1759: 
The  last  of  these  is  only  an  al- 
teration of  a  tragedy  of  the  im- 
mortal Shakspeare  ;  in  which 
indeed  it  were  to  be  wished  that 
he  had  eithsr  freed  on  thestOry 
only,  and  made  the  conduct  and 
language  of  it  entirely  his  own, 


319 


HAW 

or  else  that  he  had  taken  some- 
what less  liberty  with  his  original ; 
since,  as  it  now  stands,  there  ap- 
pears too  great  a  dissimilarity  be- 
tween the  different  parts  of  it,  to 
render  ir  pi  asing,  either  as  the 
wosk  of  Shak.speare  or  of  Mr. 
Hawkins. 

The  other  pieces,  which  may 
more  properly  be  called  his  own, 
are  far  from  wanting  merit. 

In  his  Essay  on  Genius,  he  has 
thus  drawn  his  own   character  : 

*'  F-;r   mc,    bowe'er  I  covet  lasting"} 

fame,  j 

"  And  pant  with  longings  for  a  poet's  I 

name,  ( 

"  Yet,  lee  my  soul  conf  ss  a  nobler  I 

aim!  J 

"  Give  me,  Ymd  Heav'n,   still   higher 

points  to  reach  ; 
"  Give  me  tt>  practise  what  1  strive  to 

teach  ; 
"  Mv  standing  rules  of  daily  conduct  be 
41  Fai'h,     honour,     justice,     candoui, 

charity ; 
"  Careless  of  false   reproach,    or  vain 

applause, 
*'  Be  worth  my  eulogy,  and  truth  my 

cause. 
■*'  O  may  I  wield  an  independent  pen, 
"  A  friend  to  virtue — not  a  tool  to  men  ; 
'•  In  perseverance  placing  all  my  glory  ; 
e(  While  Tories,  Whigs,    and  all    men 

call  me  Toi)  ! 
*'  Warm  in  my  breast  may  patriot  pas- 
sion glow, 
*'  Righteous  resentment  of  my  country's 

woe; 
'<  With  voice  and  heart  for  ever  may  I 

stand 
"  'Gainsi  vermin  that  devour  my  native 

land  ; 
"  And  in  one  wish  my  wishes  centred 

be, 
"  That  1  may  live  to  hail  my  country 

ftee." 

Hawkins,  W.  Of  this  person 
we  know  no  more  than  that  he 
was  a  frequent  contributor  to  the 
amusements  of  Vauxhall,  and 
published  in  1/S6,  12mo.  a  small 
collection  of  Poems,  chiefly  Pas- 
toral,  in  which, was  included 


HAY 


The  Enlisted  Shepherds.  A  Pas- 
toral Drama.     Written  in  1730. 

Hawling,  Francis.  Of  this 
author's  dramatic  works  no  speci- 
men remains,  nor  have  we  been 
able  to  collect  any  circumstances 
concerning  him.  In  the  year 
1751  he  published  the  first  part 
of  A  Miscellany  of  original 
Poems;  and  in  the  preface  men- 
tioned an  intention  of  producing 
another  collection,  in  which  were 
to  be  contained, 

1.  Seventeen  Hundred  and 
Twenty ;  or,  The  Historic,  Satiric, 
Tragi-Comic  Humours  of  Ex- 
change-Alley .     1723. 

2.  The  Indian  Emperor;  or, 
The  Conquest  of  Peru  by  the  Spa- 
niards. T.  1728. 

This  proposed  publication,  we 
believe,  never  appeared. 

In  Mears's  Catalogue,  1726,  two 
other  pieces  by  him  are  mention- 
ed, viz. 

3.  The  Impertinent  Lovers.     C. 

4.  It  should  have  come  sooner. 
Farce. 

Hayes,  Samuel,  was  born  in 
17-19,  and  educated  at  Westmin- 
ster school,  to  which  he  was  ad- 
milted  in  1763.  He  afterwards 
in  1767  removed  to  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Cambridge,  of  which  he 
became  Fellow.  In  1770  he  was 
chosen  one  of  the  ushers  of  West- 
minster school,  but  resigned  this 
situation  a  short  time  before  his 
death,  which  happened  about 
1795.  He  obtained  the  prizes  for 
several  of  the  poems  directed  by 
Mr.  Seaton's  will ;  and  while  at 
school,  in  conjunction  with  Ro- 
bert Carr,  wrote  one  piece,  called 

Eugenia.     T.   8vo.  1766. 

Hayley,  George,  was  author 
of 

The  Chocolate  Makers.  Int.  Svo. 
1759. 

Hayley,  William.  This  gen- 


:i9 


HAY 

tieman  was  born  at  Chichester  in 
October  1745  j  his  father  being 
Thomas  (the  only  son  of  Thomas 
Hayley,  Dean  of  Chichester), 
and  his  mother  Mary,  daughter 
of  Colonel  Yates,  M.  P.  for  that 
city.  He  lost  his  father  before 
he  had  reached  his  third  year, 
and  was  therefore  indebted  to  his 
mother  for  the  rudiments  of  edu- 
cation. 

Our  poet  was  sent  early  to 
Kingston  school,  where  he  suf- 
fered from  an  epidemical  fever ; 
on  his  recovery,  and  after  years 
of  illness  and  decrepitude,  he  had 
a  domestic  tutor,  who  prepared 
him  for  Eton  ;  on  leaving  which 
school  he  was  entered  of  Trinity 
Hall,  Cambridge ;  aud  while 
there  printed  the  first  poem 
known  to  have  been  written  by 
him :  this  was  an  Ode  presented 
to  His  Majesty  on  the  Birth  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  and  inserted  in 
the  Cambridge  Collection  ;  but  it 
may  also  be  found  in  The  Gentle- 
man's Magazine,  vol.  xxxiii.  p. 
39.  On  quitting  the  university 
he  passed  some  months  in  Scot- 
land; and,  in  l/6p,  married  Eli- 
zabeth, daughter  of  the  Rev.Tbo. 
Ball,  Dean  of  Chichester  3  which 
lady  died  Nov.  S,  1/97,  having 
published  a  translation  of  the 
Marchioness  Lambert's  Essays  on 
Friendship  and  Old  Age,  Svo. 
1780;  which  is  executed  with 
great  spirit  and  •  fidelity ;  she  also 
published  The  Triumph  of  Ac- 
quaintance over  Friendship,  an  Es- 
say for  the  Times,  12mo.  1796. 

After  residing  a  few  years  in 
London,  he  settled,  in  17/4,  at 
Eartham,  in  his  native  county, 
where  he  still  continues  to  reside. 

In  3  7/3*  Mr.  Hayley  produ- 
ced, without  his  name,  A  Poetical 
Epistle  to  an  eminent  Painter  (Mr. 
Romney) ;  in  1779.   An  Epistle 


HAY 

to  Admiral  Keppel,  4to.  and  An 
Elegy  on  the  Ancient  Greek  Model, 
4to.  [Neither  of  the  two  last- 
mentioned  pieces,  however,  are 
included  in  the  collected  edition 
of  his  works.]  In  1 780  he  gave 
the  public  An  Epistle  to  a  Friend 
on  the  Death  of  John  Thornton, 
Esq.  4to. ;  and  An  Essay  on  His- 
tory, in  Three  Epistles  to  Edward 
Gibbon,  Esq.  4to.  In  1781,  An 
Ode-  inscribed  to  John  Howard, 
Esq.  4to. ;  and  The  Triumphs  of 
Temper,  an  admirable  poem  in 
six  cantos,  4to.  In  1782,  An  Es- 
say on  Epic  Poetry,  in  five  Epis- 
tles to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mason,  4to. 

Mr.  Hayley  has  since  given  to 
the  world  a  very  amusing  work, 
entitled  An  Essay  on  Old  Maids ;  a 
novel  called  The  Young  Widoiv  3 
An  Elegy  on  Sir  William  Jones  ; 
a  Life  of  Milton ;  Memoirs  of 
William  Cowper,  Esq.  ;  &c.  &c. ; 
but  his  claim  to  notice  in  the  pre- 
sent work  is  (bunded  on  the  fol- 
lowing dramatic  productions : 

1.  Happy  Prescription.  C.  4to. 
1/84. 

2.  Lord  Russel.  T.  4to.    1784. 

3.  Marcella.  T.  4to.   1784. 

4.  The  Mausoleum.  C.  4to. 
1784. 

5.  The  Two  Co?inoisseurs.  C. 
4to.  1784. 

6.  Eudora.  T.  1790.  N.  P. 
The  works  of  Mr.  Hayley  are 

calculated  to  impress  the  most  fa- 
vourable opinion  of  him  as  a 
man  3  and,  if  we  are  not  misin- 
formed, his  manners  are  in  perfect 
unison  with  the  sentiments  that 
his  writings  inculcate. 

Haywood,  Mrs.  Eliza.  This 
lady  was  perhaps  the  most  volu- 
minous female  writer  this  king- 
dom ever  produced.  Her  genius 
lay  chiefly  in  the  novel  depart- 
ment of  writing.  In  the  early  part 
of  her  life  her  natural   vivacity, 


J'ZO 


HAY 

iter  sex's  constitutional  fondness 
for  gallantry,  and  the  passion 
which  then  prevailed  in  the  pub- 
lic taste  for  personal  scandal,  and 
diving  into  the  intrigues  of  the 
great,  guided  her  pen  to  works  in 
which  a  scope  was  given  for  great 
licentiousness.  The  celebrated 
Alalantls  of  .Mrs.  Man  ley  served 
her  for  a  model,  and  The  Court  of 
Car  a  mania,  The  New  Utopia,  and 
some  other  pieces  of  a  like  nature, 
Were  the  copies  her  genius  pro- 
duced. Whether  the  looseness  of 
the  pieces  themselves,  or  some 
more  private  reasons,  provoked 
the  resentment  of  Mr.  Pope  against 
her,  we  cannot  pretend  to  deter- 
mine j  but  certain  it  is,  that  that 
great  poet  has  taken  some  pains 
to  perpetuate  her  name  to  immor- 
tal infamy  ;  having,  in  his  Dun- 
Clad,  proposed  her  as  one  of  the 
prizes  to  be  run  for  in  the  games 
instituted  in  honour  of  the  inau- 
guration of  the  monarch  of  Dul- 
lness. To  this,  however,  we  own 
we  cannot  readily  subscribe  ;  for, 
although  we  should  be  tar  from 
vindicating  the  libertinism  of  her 
subjects,  or  the  exposing  with  ag- 
gravation to  the  public  the  private 
errors  of  individuals,  yet  we  think 
it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  is 
great  spirit  and  ingenuity  in  Mrs. 
Haywood's  manner  of  treating 
subjects,  which  the  friends  of 
virtue  may  perhaps  wish  she  had 
nevei  entered  on  at  all  j  and  that 
in  those  of  her  novels  where  per- 
sonal character  has  not  been  ad- 
mitted to  take  place,  and  where 
the  stories  have  been  of  her  own 
creation,  such  as  her  Love  in  Ex- 
cess, Fruitless  Enquiry,  &c.  she 
has  given  proofs  of  great  inven- 
tive powers,  and  a  perfect  know- 
ledge of  the  affections  of  the  hu- 
man heart.  And  thus  much  must 
he  granted  in    her   favour,    that 


M  A  V 

whatever  liberty  she  might  at  first 
give  to  her  pen,  to  the  oft'ence 
either  of  morality  or  delicacy,  she 
seemed  to  be  soon  convinced  of 
her  error,  and  determined  not 
only  to  reform,  but  even  atone 
for  it  ;  since,  in  the  numerous 
volumes  which  she  gave  to  the 
world  towards  the  latter  part  of 
her  life,  no  author  has  appeared 
more  the  votary  of  virtue,  nor  are 
there  any  novels  in  which  a  stricter 
purity,  or  a  greater  delicacy  of 
sentiment,  has  been  preserved.  It 
may  not,  perhaps,  be  unacceptable 
in  this  place  to  point  out  what 
these  latter  works  were,  as  they 
are  very  voluminous,  and  are  not 
perfectly  known  to  every  one. 
They  may,  therefore,  though 
somewhat  foreign  to  the  purport 
of  this  work,  be  found  in  the 
following  list,  viz^ 

The  Female  Spectator,  4  vols. 

Epistles  for  the  Ladies,  2  vota. 

Fortunate  Foundling,   1  vol. 

Adventures  of  Nature,   1  vol. 

History   of  Betsy    Thoughtless^ 
4  vols. 

Jenny   and  Jemmy  Jessamy,  3 
vols. 

Invisible  Spy,  2  Vols. 

Husband  and  Wife,  2  vols. 
and  a  pamphlet,  entitled, 

A  Present  for  a  Servant  Maid. 
When  young  she  dabbled  in  dra- 
matic poetry  ;  but  with  no  great 
success  3  none  of  her  plays  either 
meeting  with  much  approbation 
at  the  first,  or  having  been  ad- 
mitted to  repetition  since.  Their 
titles  are  as  follow  : 

1.  Fair  Captive.  T.  8vo.  1/21. 

2.  V/ife   to    be    let.     C.     Svo. 
1724. 

3.  Frederick  Duke  of  Brunsu-'u  k 
Lunenburgk.     T.  8vo.   172Q. 

4.  Opera    of   Operas     (joined 
with  Mr.  Hatchett).     Svo.   1733. 

She  had  also  an  inclination  fos 


321 


HAY 

the  theatre  as  a  performer,  and 
\v:is  on  the  stage  at  Dublin  in  the 
year  17 15.  She  likewise  acted  a 
principal  part  in  her  own  comedy 
of  the  Wife  to  le  let  ;  and  her 
name  stands  in  the  dram.  pars,  of  a 
tragedy,  entitled,  The  Rival  Fa- 
ther, written  by  Mr.  Hatchett,  a 
gentleman  with  whom  she  ap- 
pears to  have  had  a  close  literary 
intimacy. 

As  to  the  circumstances  of  Mrs. 
Haywood's  life,  very  little  light 
seems  to  appear  ;  for,  though  the 
world  was  inclinable,. probably  in- 
duced by  the  general  tenour  of 
her  earlier  writings,  to  affix  on 
her  the  character  of  a  lady  of 
gallantry,  yet  we  have  never  heard 
of  any  particular  intrigues  or  con- 
nexions directly  laid  to  her  charge ; 
and  have  been  credibly  informed 
that,  from  a  supposition  of  some 
improper  liberties  being  taken 
with  her  character  after  death,  by 
the  intermixture  of  truth  and 
falsehood  with  her  history,  she 
laid  a  solemn  injunction  on  a  per- 
son who  was  well  acquainted 
with  all  the  particulars  of  it,  not 
to  communicate  to  any  one  the 
least  circumstance  relating  to  her. 
All  we  have  been  able  to  learn  is, 
that  her  father  was  in  the  mer- 
cantile way  ;  that  she  was  born 
at  London  ;  and  that  at  the  time 
of  her  death,  which  was  on  the 
25th  February  \7$Q,  she  was 
about  sixty-three  years  of  age. 

With  respect  to  her  genius  and 
abilities,  her  works,  which  are 
very  numerous,  mast  stand  in  evi- 
dence :  as  to  her  personal  charac- 
ter, we  learn,  that  she  was  good- 
natured,  affable,  lively,  and  enter- 
taining ;  and  that,  whatever  errors 
she  might  in  any  respect  have  run 
into  in  her  youthful  days,  she  was, 
in  more  mature  age,  remarkable 
for  the  most  rigid  and  scrupulous 
vol.  1. 


H  E  A 

decorum,  delicacy,  and  prudence* 
both  with  respect  to  her  conduct 
and  conversation. 

Hazard,  Joseph.  This  gen- 
tleman was  son  of  a  person  whose 
name  was  known  over  the  greater 
part  of  the  kingdom,  as  one  of 
the  favourite  retailers  of  chances 
in  our  state-lotteries.  He  was 
educated  at  Lincoln  College,  in 
Oxford,  and,  when  a  mere  boy, 
produced  one  drama,  entitled 

Redowald.  M.  Printed  by  sub- 
scription at  Chelmsford,  12mo. 
1/07. 

Head.  Richard.  This  author 
was  the  son  of  a  minister  in  Ire- 
land, who  being  murdered,  among 
many  thousands  more,  in  the 
dreadful  massacre  in  that  king- 
dom in  1641,  Mrs.  Head,  with 
this  son,  then  but  young,  came 
over  to  England  ;  where,  having 
been  trained  up  in  learning,  he 
was  sent,  through  the  friendship 
of  some  persons  who  had  had  a 
regard  for  his  father,  to  Oxford, 
and  completed  his  studies  in  the 
very  same  college  that  his  father 
had  formerly  belonged  to.  His 
circumstances,  however,  being 
mean,  he  was  taken  away  from 
the  university  before  he  had  got 
any  degree,  and  was  bound  ap- 
prentice to  a  bookseller,  and 
when  out  of  his  time  married, 
and  set  up  for  himself;  but  hav- 
ing a  strong  propensity  to  two 
pernicious  passions,  viz.  poetry 
and  gaming,  the  one  of  which  is 
for  the  most  part  unprovable,, 
and  the  other  almost  always  de- 
structive, he  quickly  ruined  his  ' 
circumstances,  and  was  obliged  to 
retire  for  a  time' to  Ireland.  Here 
he  wrote  his  only  dramatic  piece, 
which  was  entitled 

Hie  et  uiique.     C.     4to.    1G63. 

By  this  piece  he  acquired  very 

great  reputation  and  some  money  -j- 


322 


H  E  A 

on  which  he  returned  to  England, 
reprinted  his  comedy,  and  dedi- 
cated it  to  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth 3  but,  meeting  with  no  en- 
couragement, he  once  more  had 
recourse  to  his  trade  of -booksell- 
ing. But,  no  sooner  had  he  a 
little  recovered  himself,  than  -he 
again  lent  an  ear  to  the  syren  al- 
lurements of  pleasure  and  poetry, 
in  the  latter  of  which  he  seems 
never  to  have  made  any  great 
proficiency.  He  failed  a  second 
time  in  the  world ;  on  which  he 
had  again  recourse  to  his  pen  for 
support,  and  wrote  several  dif- 
ferent pieces,  particularly  the  first 
part  of  The  English  Rogrie ;  in 
which,  however,  he  had  given 
scope  to  so  much  licentiousness, 
that  he  could  not  get  an  impri- 
matur granted  to  it,  till  he  had 
expunged  some  of  the  loosest 
descriptions  from  it.  To  this  first 
part  three  more  were  afterwards 
added  by  Mr.  Head,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  Mr.  Francis  Kirk  man, 
who  had  also  been  his  partner  in 
trade. 

The  business  of  an  author,  how- 
ever, and  its  emoluments,  being 
very  precarious,  it  appears  from 
Winstanley,  who  was  personally 
acquainted  with  him,  that  he  af- 
terwards met  with  a  great  many 
crosses  and  afflictions,  and  was  at 
last  cast  away  at  sea  as  "he  was 
going  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  in  the 
year  1(5/8. 

Heard,    William,    was    the 
son  of  a  bookseller  who  lived  in 
•  Piccadilly ;  and  wrote  two  drama- 
:  tic  pieces,  called,       -  •    ■ 

1 .  The  Smtff-Box  y  or,  A  Trip 
to  Bath.     C.  *8vo.   1775. 

2.  Valentines  Day.  M.  D. 
8vo.   177O. 

Mr.  Heard  was  bred  to  the 
medical  profession,  and  was  au- 
thor of  several   poems.    He  died 


HEM 

the  shores  of  Africa.  His'widow  be- 
longed to  the  Drury  Lane  company 
many  years,  and  latterly  perform- 
ed the  characters  of  old  women. 
She  died  about  the  year  l/Qt).  A 
daughter  of  theirs  was  brought 
up  to  the  stage  at  Drury  Lane 
from  her  infancy  5  her  first  cha- 
racters having  been  the  Duke  of 
York  (Richard  HI.),  Page  (Or- 
phan), &c.  At  the  Haymarket 
Theatre  she  first  attempted  cha- 
racters of  more  importance,  and 
met  with  some  approbation  in 
both  the  hoyden  and  sentimental 
line.  She  was  always  a  useful 
actress,  being  a  ready  substitute 
in  case  of  indisposition  or  absence. 
Having  been  dismissed  from  Drury 
Lane  in  1801,  Miss  Heard  joined 
Mr.  Kemble's  company  at  New- 
castle. 

Heartwell,  Henry.  A  gen- 
tleman of  property,  who  has 
amused  the  public  by  the  produc- 
tion of  two  dramatic  pieces ;  of 
which,  however,  the  last-men- 
tioned is  only  an  alteration  (though 
a  very  material  one)  of  the  former, 
to  adapt  it  for  representation  at 
the  Haymarket  theatre  ;  in  which 
process  he  received  assistance  from 
the  taste  and  judgment  of  Mr. 
Colman. 

1.  The  Prisoner.  CO.  8vo.  1799. 

2.  The  Castle  of  Sorrento.  CO. 
8vo.  1799- 

Hemince,  William,  was  son 
of  John  Heminge,  the"  famous 
player,  who  was  contemporary 
with  Shakspeare,  and  whose  name 
we  find,  together  with  that  of 
Condell,  signed  to  the  Dedication, 
and  Address  to  the  Reader,  pre- 
fixed to  the  folio  edition  of  that 
author's  works.  He  was  born  in 
Aldermanbury,  London  j  bap- 
tized October  3»,  1(502 ;  and  re- 
ceived his  education  at  Christ 
Church  College,  in  Oxford,  where 


it  the  early  age  of  thirty-four,  on    he  was  entered  as  a  student  in  the 


«  EN 

year  l6'21,  and  in  J62S  took  his 
degree  of  Master  of  Arts.  In 
March  1632-3  he  produced  a  co- 
medy, not  printed,  called, 

1.  The.  Coursing  of  the  Hare ; 
or,   The  Madcap. 
And  the  "following,  which   have 
appeared  in  print : 

2.  The  Fatal  Contract.  T.  4to. 
1653. 

3.  The  Jews  Tragedy.  4to. 
1662. 

4.  The  Eunuch.  T.  4to.  168/. 
,(N.  B.  This  is  only  the  title  by 

which  the  second-mentioned  play 
was  revived  in  the  year  l6S/.) 

Henderson,  Andrew.  A 
Scotchman,  who  once  kept  a 
bookseller's  shop  in  Westminster 
Hall.  In  the  title-pages  of  his 
performances,  which  are  very  nu- 
merous, he  styles  himself  A.  M. 
He  published  a  History  Of  the 
Scotch  Rebellion,  and  one  dra- 
matic piece,  called 

Arsinoe.  T.  Svo.  N.D.  [1752.] 
Henley,  Anthony,  father  of 
Lord  Chancellor  Northington, 
was  bred  at  Oxford,  where  he 
distinguished  himself  by  an  early 
taste  for  polite  literature,  and  an 
intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
ancient  poets ;  which  naturally 
exciting  a  congenial  spirit,  he 
.became  no  inconsiderable  writer. 
Possessed  of  an  ample  fortune,  and 
in  high  favour  at  the  court  of 
King  William,  he  lived  in  the 
greatest  familiarity  with  those  of 
the  first  rank  for  quality  and  wit  ; 
but  at  that  time  seems  to  have 
avoided  interfering  in  politics. 
He  had  someihing  of  the  charac- 
ter of  Tibullus,  and,  except  his 
extravagance,  possessed  all  his 
other  qualities  ;  his  indolence,  his 
.gallantry,  his  wit,  his  humanity, 
his  generosity,  his  learning,  his 
taste  for  letters.  He  consented  to 
be  chosen  a  member  of  parlia- 


323 

HER 

ment  in  the  last  year  of  King 
William,  and  continued  in  that 
assembly  until  his  death.  Being, 
on  all  occasions  a  zealous  asserter 
of  liberty,  he  was  the  mover  of 
the  address  for  promoting  Mr. 
Hoadly,  and  occasionally  assisted 
in  some  Whig  publications.  He 
affected  a  low  simplicity  in  his 
writings,  and  was  remarkably 
happy  in  touching  the  manners 
and  passions.  He  died  much  la- 
mented in  August  1/11.  Amongst 
other  performances,  he  is  said  by 
the  writer  of  his  life  to  have  al- 
most finished 

Alexander.  Opera,  set  to  mu- 
sic by  Purcell.     N.  P. 

Henry,  John,  was  some  time 
ago  manager  of  the  theatre  in  Phi- 
ladelphia. He  appeared  on  the 
stage  at  Drury  Lane,  in  Oct.  1/7.9, 
as  Othello,  but  soon  quitted  the 
kingdom.     He  was  author  of 

A  School  for  Soldiers  ;  or,  The 
Deserter.  D.  P.  8vo.  1783. 
Printed  at  Kingston  in  Jamaica. 

Herbert,  Mary,  Countess 
of  Pembroke.  This  noble  fe- 
male author  was  wife  of  Henry 
Earl  of  Pembroke,  and  lived  in  the 
reigns  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and 
King  James  I.  She  was"  also  the 
sister  of  the  famous  Sir  Philip -Syd- 
ney, to  whom  that  great  genius 
dedicated  his  well-known  '  ro- 
mance called  the  Arcadia,  and 
from  whom  it  has  been  almost 
constantly  named  the  Countess  of 
Pembroke's  Arcadia.  This  cir- 
cumstance was.  of  itself  sufficient 
to  have  entailed  immortality  on 
her  memory;  but  her  merits  stood 
in  need  of  no  derived  honour, 
being  in  themselves  entitled  to 
the  highest  praise  and  commenda- 
tion. She  was  not  only  a  lover  of 
the  Muses,  but  also  a  great  en- 
courager  of  polite  literature ;  a 
quaiilv  not  very  frequently  met 
y  2 


324 


HER 


HER 


with  among  the  fair.  And,  not 
contented  with  affording  her  sanc- 
tion to  those  talents  in  others,  she 
was  careful  to  cultivate  them,  and 
set  an  example  of  the  use  of  them, 
in  her  own  person.  In  the  dra- 
matic way,  on  which  account  she 
is  entitled  to  a  place  here,  she 
translated  one  piece  from  the 
French,  called 

Antonie.  T.  12mo.  and  4to. 
1595. 

Coxeter  says,  that,  with  the  as- 
sistance of  her  lord's  chaplain,  Dr. 
Gervase  Babington,  afterwards  bi- 
shop of  Exeter,  she  made  an  exact 
translation  of  the  Psa/ms  of  David 
into  English  metre.  He,  how- 
ever, makes  a  query  as  to  their 
being  ever  printed  5  but  Wood 
(Athcn.  Oxon.  vol.  i.  p.  184)  as- 
cribes such  a  translation  to  her 
brother  Sir  Philip  Sydney,  and 
informs  us  that  it  is  in  MS.  in  the 
library  of  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  at 
Wilton,  curiously  bound  in  a 
crimson  velvet  cover,  left  thereto 
by  this  lady. 

Some  Psalms  by  her  are,  how- 
ever, printed  in  Mr.  Harrington's 
Nu<ree  Antiques,    3    vols.   12mo. 

1779- 

In  what  year  she  was  born  we 
have  not  been  able  to  trace ;  but 
she  was  married  in  15/6.  She 
died  at  her  house  in  Aldersgate 
Street,  London,  Sept.  25,  10'21, 
and  lies  buried  in  the  cathedral 
church  of  Salisbury,  among  the 
graves  of  the  Pembroke  family. 

We  cannot  close  our  account  of 
this  most  excellent  lady  better 
than  by  transcribing  the  character 
given  of  her  by  Francis  Osborn, 
m  his  Memoirs  of  the  Reign  of 
King  James,  paragraph  24. 

"  She  was  (says  he)  that  sister 
"  of  Sir  Philip  Sydney  to  whom 
"  he  addressed  his  Arcadia,  and 
*'  of  whom  he  had  no  other  ad- 


"  vantage  than  what  he  received 
"  from  the  partial  benevolence  oi 
"  fortune  in  making  him  a  man  ; 
"  which  yet  she  did,  in  some 
"  judgments,  recompense  in 
"  beauty,  her  pen  being  nothing 
"■  short  of  his,  as  I  am  ready  to 
*'  attest,  so  far  as  so  inferior  a 
"  reason  may  be  taken,  having 
"  seen  incomparable  letters  of 
"  hers.  But,  lest  I  shouJd  seem 
"  to  trespass  upon  truth,  which 
"  few  do  unsuborned  (as  I  protest 
"  I  am,  unless  by  her  rhetoric), 
"  I  shall  leave  the  world  her  epi- 
"  taph,  in  which  the  author  doth 
"  manifest  himself  a  poet  in  all 
"  things  but  untruth." 

Underneath  this  sable  hearse 
Lies  the  subject  of  all  verse  ; 
Sydney's  sister,  Pembroke's  mother. 
Death  !  ere  thou  kill'st  such  another, 
Fair  and  good,  and  learn'd  as  she, 
Time  shall  throw  a  dart  at  thee. 
Marble  piles  let  no  man  raise 
To  her  fame, — for  after-days 
Some  kind  woman,  born  as  she, 
Reading  this,  like  Niobe, 
Shall  turn  statue,  and  become 
Both  her  mourner,  and  her  tomb. 

Herbert,  ~,   a  performer 

on  the  Dublin  stage,  and  who  on 
the  11th  of  October  1S04,  made 
his  appearance  at  Covent  Garden 
theatre.  To  him  is  ascribed, 
though  not  without  some  doubt, 

Tryal's  All.     Com.     1802. 

We  have  heard,  that  Herbert  is 
only  the  stage  name  of  this  gen- 
tleman, and  that  his  real  name  if 
Dowling. 

Heron,  Robert,  was  born  in 
Dumfries-shire  about  the.  year 
176O.  After  the  usual  routine  of 
parochial  education,  he  came  to 
Edinburgh,  and  by  his  assiduity 
as  a  private  teacher,  was  not  only 
enabled  to  become  a  preacher, 
but  also  went  through  a  course- 
of  the  medical  classes.  Being  a 
man   of   promising  abilities,    he 


HER 

-*as  patronized  by  Dr.  Blair,  who 
appointed   him   his    assistant,    in 
which   capacity  he   officiated   for 
some   time.     He   was  a  man   of 
multifarious  erudition ;    and   du- 
ring his  residence  in  Scotland  was 
a   good     deal     employed   by    the 
booksellers  in  Edinburgh,  chiefly 
as  a  translator.     Besides  the  Aru~ 
hian  Tales,  being   a  continuation 
of  The  Arabian  Nights  Entertain- 
ments,   he    translated    Niebuhr's 
Travels     through    Atabia,     fcsV.  j 
Letters  between  General  Dumou- 
rier  and  Pache ;  and  Garat's  Me- 
moirs of  the  Revolution,     In  1 793 
he  published  Observations  mctde  in 
a    Journey   through    the    Western 
Counties  of  Scotland,  and  in  1794 
began    his   History   of  Scotland  ; 
which  was  afterwards  completed 
in   8  vols.  8vo.     Mr.  Heron  also 
commenced  a  popular  work,  call- 
ed  The   Universal   Traveller,  but 
did  not  finish  it ;  and  was  a  con- 
siderable contributor  to  the  New 
Encychpcedia     Britannica.        His 
views  of  church  preferment   not 
answering    his    expectations,    he 
abandoned    his    native    country, 
and  came  to  London,  where   his 
talents    soon    procured    him    the 
countenance    of    some    eminent 
booksellers,  as  well  as  the  friend- 
ship  of    literary   men.     He   was 
for   a   short   time  editor   of  The 
British   Press    and    Globe,    daily 
papers   established    by  the   book- 
sellers.    In  1800",  he  commenced 
a  newspaper  entitled  The  Fame; 
but  the  undertaking  did   not  suc- 
ceed; and  its  failure  involved  him 
in  pecuniary  difficulties,  that  pro- 
bably   superinduced      that    fever 
which   on   the   13th   April    I8O7 
put  an  end  to  his  life  in  the  Fever 
Institution.      His   fate  adds  one 
more  to  the  numerous  examples 
o(   the  melancholy   consequences 
«f  want  of  prudence ;  a   defect, 


325 

HER 

among  men  of  literary  genius, 
unhappily  too  common,  though 
not  the  less  to  be  deplored.  Air. 
Heron  published,  in  the  dramatic 
way, 

1.  5/.  Kilda  in  Edinburgh.    M. 
F.    Svo.   179s. 

2.  Pkarro:     T.    8vo.    1799. 
Hervey,   John  Lord.     This 

nobleman  was  the  second  son  of 
John,    the    first   Earl   of  Bristol, 
and,   on   the   death   of  his  elder 
brother,   heir  to  the  title  ;  which, 
however,  he  did  not  enjoy,  as  he 
was  survived  by  his  father.     He 
was  bom  October  15,  1696,  and 
very  early   became  an   attendant 
on  the  court,  being  appointed,  on 
the  7th  of  November  1/14,  gen- 
tleman of  the  bedchamber  to  the 
Priuce     of      Wales,     afterwards 
George  the  Second.     In   the  year 
1725  he  was  chosen  member  for 
St.  Ednund's  Bury,   which   place 
he  continued  to  represent  until  he 
was   called   up  to   the   House  of 
Lords.   On  the  O'th  of  May  1730, 
he  was  anpointed  Vice-Chamber-* 
lain   of  His  Majesty's  household, 
and  espousing  the  cause  of  the 
then  ministry,  of  which  Sir  Ro- 
bert Walpole  was  at  the  head,   he 
exerted  all  the  force  of  his  pen 
and  his  eloquence  in   support  of 
the  measures  of  that  administra- 
tion.     Mr.    Walpole     says,     his 
pa  nphlets  are  equal  to  any  that 
were  ever   written.     On  account 
of  one  of  them,    called   Sedition 
and  Defamation  displayed,   he  was 
involved  in    a    duel,    the  25th  of 
January    1731,    with   the  Earl  of 
Bath,  then  Mr.  Pultency,  in  which 
neither  of  the  parlies  received  any 
injury.       On   the    12th   of    June 
1733,   he   was  called  up   to  the 
House  of  Peers  by  writ,   and  on 
the   1st  of   May    17-IO    had  the 
custody  of  the  privy  seal  delivered 
to  him.     He  continued  steadily 
V  3 


32o 


HEW 

attached  to  the  fortune  of  his  friend 
Sir  Robert  Walpole ;  and  when 
that  minister  was  driven  from  his 
post,  he  resigned  also  his  employ- 
ment, and  opposed  the  new  ad- 
ministration during  the  short  re- 
mainder of  his  life,  which  ended 
August  5,  1743.  His  Lordship 
was  unluckily  engaged  in  a  con- 
troversy with  Mr.  lope,  who,  be- 
sides a  very  severe  letter  in  prose 
printed  in  his  works,  and  some 
incidental  notices,  has  drawn  his 
character  underthe  name  of  Sporos, 
"in  th  '   to  Dr.  Arbuthnot, 

v/tih  all  the  virulence  of  an  en- 
rag  ed  author.  Lord  Hervey  was 
particularly  remarkable  for  the 
elegance  of  his  dress.  He  left 
many  manuscripts  behind  him, 
which  have  not  been  yet  printed ; 
and,  among  the  rest, 

jgtvpfina.     Trag. 

Hewetson,  \V.  B.  This  gen- 
tleman, who  is,  we  believe,  a 
captain  in  His  Majesty's  service, 
has  produced  one  dramatic  piece, 
called 

The  Blind  Boy.  Mel.  Dr.  8vo. 
180S. 

Hewitt,  John,  was  the  au- 
thor'of  three  plays,  entitled, 

1.  The.  Fair  Rivals.     T.     Svo. 

1729.  .      . 

2.  Fatal  Falsliood;  or .  Distress  d 
Innocence.  T.  Svo.  N.D.  [1/34.] 

3 .  A  Tutor  for  the  Beaus  ;  or, 
Love  in  a  Labyrinth.  C.  8vo.  1737- 

Of  this  author  we  do  not  know 
any  particulars  with  certainty,  but 
imagine  him  to  be  the  same  person 
who,  in  1/27,  published  a  Collec- 
tion of  Miscellanies  in  prose  and 
verse,  at  Bristol,  under  the  name 
of  John  Hewitt.  In  the  dedica- 
tion of  this  .volume  to  James 
Hewitt,  Esq.  second  commissioner 
for  trade  to  His  imperial  Majesty 
of  Russia,  the  author  asserts  him- 
self to  be  the  .legitimate  son  of 


HEY 

that  gentleman,  and  complains  of 
having  been  neglected  by  him. 
He,  however,  confesses  that  he  had 
misbehaved  himself,  and  had  ven- 
tured some  money  belonging  to  his 
father  at  the  groom-porter's,  which 
had  finished  his  ruin.  He  pro- 
fesses himself  also  oft  the  point  of 
leaving  the  kingdom  with  a  reso- 
lution of  never  returning,  unless 
fortune  put  it  in  his  power  to  pur- 
chase land,  and  live  retired. 

Hey,  Richakd,  of  the  Middle 
Temple,  an  author  still  living,  is 
a  doctor  of  laws,  and  fellow  of 
Magdalen  College,  Cambridge.  He 
distinguished  himself  at  the  uni- 
versity by  obtaining  prizes  for 
three  excellent  dissertations,  on 
Gaming,  Duelling,  and  Suicide, 
about  the  years  1733-5.  In  1792 
he  wrote  a  very  judicious  answer 
to  Paine's  Rights  of  Man,  which 
he  demonstrates  to  be  a  system  of 
despotism  and  tyranny :  this  he 
called  Happiness  and  Rights.  In 
1796,  he  published  Edington,  2  vols. 
12mo.  ;  but  his  claim  to  notice  in 
this  work  is  founded  on  ' 

The  Captive  Monarch.  T.  8vo. 
1794. 

Heylix,  Peter.  This  author 
is  better  known  for  his  polemical 
than  poetical  works.  He  was  born 
at  Burford,  in  Oxfordshire,  on  the 
29th  of  November  1599,  and  re- 
ceived his  education  at  the  free- 
school,  of  the  same  town.  At  the 
age  of  fourteen  he  was  placed  at 
Hart  Hall,  aud  two  years  after  be- 
came demy  of  Magdalen  College.' 
In  October  1(5 J  7,  he  took  the  de- 
gree of  B.  A. ;  and  in  the  year  fol- 
lowing was  chosen  perpetual  fellow 
of  the  said  house.  He  was  made 
deacon  and  priest  by  Dr.  Howson, 
Bishop  of  Oxford,  in  1023;  and 
soon  after,  taking  part  with  great 
violence  in  behalf  of  the  claims  of 
the  hierarchy,  he  became  known 


327 


HEY 

to  Archbishop  Laud,  witb  whom 
he  remained  in  high  estimation 
during  that  prelate's  life.  .  Iq  1631, 
he  was  appointed  rector  of  Hem- 
ingford,  in  Huntingdonshire,  and 
prebendary  of  Westminster.  The 
next  year,  the  King  bestowed  upon 
him  the  rich  living  of  Houghton 
in  the  Spring,  in  Durham,  which  he 
was  soon  permitted  to  exchange 
for  the  rectory  of  Alresford,  in 
Hampshire.  In  lu33,  he  proceed- 
ed D.  D. ;  and,  in  1638,  was  pre- 
sented to  the  rectory  of  South 
Warnborough,  in  Hampshire.  On 
the  10th  of  April  1640,  he  was 
chosen  clerk  of  the  convocation 
for  Westminster;  and,  on  the  com- 
mencement of  the  troubles,  soon 
began  to  experience  all  the  hard- 
ships which  those  who  adhered  to 
the  royal  cause  suffered.  From 
this  time  to  the  Restoration  he 
lived  in  a  continued  state  of  want, 
maintaining  himself  chiefly  by  writ- 
ing books.  Though  so  zealous  an 
advocate  for  the  church  and  crown, 
he  never  rose  higher  than  to  be  sub- 
dean  of  Westminster,  in  which  post 
he  died  May  8.  1662.  In  his  youth 
he  wrote  two  Latin  plays,  which 
were  never  printed,  tailed, 

1.  Spurkts.    T.     1016. 

2.  Theomachia.     C.     l6lS. 
Heywood,  Mrs.  Eliza.     See 

Haywood. 

Heywood,  Jasper,  D.D.  This 
writer,  who  flourished  in  the  reign 
of  Queen  Elizabeth,  was  son  of  the 
famous  poet  and  epigrammatist  of 
that  name,  whom  we  shall  imme- 
diately have  occasion  to  mention. 
He  was  born  in  London  in  1535, 
and  in  the  twelfth  year  of  his  age 
was  sent  to  the  university  of  Ox- 
ford, and  entered  a  student  in 
Merton  College.  Here  he  re- 
ceived those  useful  parts  of  educa- 
tion, grammar  and  logic  ■,  and,  in 
1553,  took  his  degree  as  rpa 


II  E  Y 

of  arts,  and  was  admitted  to  a 
probationary  fellowship  in  that 
college,  where  he-  gained  a  supe- 
riority over  ;il!  his  fellow-students 
in  disputations  at  the  public  school, 
and  was  (as  appears  from  an  ora- 
tion written  in  his  praise  by  David 
De  la  Hyde,  entitled  De  Ligno  et 
FcenoJ  nominated  there  Rex  Regni 
Falarum,  or  a  kind  of  Christmas  . 
Lord.  Langbaine  and  Jacob  both 
say  that  he  quitted  this  college,  at 
which  he  only  passed  his  younger 
days,  for  a  fellowship  in  All-Souls 
College  in  the  same  university. 
But  Wood  informs  us,  that,  hav- 
ing been  guilty  of  several  misde- 
meanors, such  as  are  peculiar  to 
youth,  wildness  and  rakishness, 
which  in  those  days  were  punished 
with  great  severity,  and  into  which 
probably  he  ran  the  more  readily  4 
from  being,  in  consequence  of  his 
father's  quitting  England,  left  very 
early  to  himself,  he  was  obliged^ 
in  order  to  prevent  expulsion,. to 
resign  his  fellowship,  upon  a  third 
admonition  from  the  warden  and 
society  of  Merton  College,  on  the- 
4th  of  April  1553. 

Soon  after  this  he  quitted  Engv 
land,  and,  going  over  to  St.  Omer's, 
entered  himself  into  the  society  of 
Jesus  at  that  place;  from  whence, 
after  having  spent  two  years  in  the 
siudv  of  divinity  among  the  priests, 
he  was  sent  to  Diling,  in  Switzer- 
land, where  he  passed  upwards  of 
seventeen  years  in  discussing  cer- 
tain points  of  controversy  among 
those  whom  he  called  heretics ; 
in  which  time,  on  account  of  his 
distinguished  learning,  and  his  ar- 
dent zeal  for  the  holy  mother,  he 
was  promoted  to  the  degree  of 
doctor  of  divinity  and  of  the  four 
vows. 

In    the  year    1581,  Pope  Gre- 
gory XIII.  called  him  away  from 
Diling,  in  order  to  plant  him  at  the 
y  4 


32S 


HEY 

head  of  the  first  mission  of  Jesuits 
to  England  ;  in  \\  hich  office,  be- 
ing settled  in  the  metropolis  of  his 
native  country,  and  esteemed  as 
provincial  of  the  order  in  that 
kingdom,  he  ran  into  grent  luxury 
and  magnificence,  affecting  more 
the  exterior  show  of  a  grandee  than 
the  humility  of  a  priest,  and  sup- 
porting as  splendid  an  equipage  as 
money  could  then  furnish  him 
with. 

Dr.  Fuller,  in  his  Bri'ish  WortM.es 
(London,  p.  222),  has  run  into 
an  error  with  respect  to  our  author, 
telling  us  that  he  was  executed  in 
the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  But 
Anth.  a  Wood  (Jthen.  O.von.  vol.i. 
col.  252)  informs  us,  that  he  paid 
the  great  debt  to  nature  at  Naples, 
on  the  f)th  of  January  159S  ;  and 
Sir  Richard  Baker  relates,  that  he 
was  one  of  the  chief  of  the  seventy 
priests  that  were  taken  in  1585; 
and  that,  when  some  of  them  were 
condemned,  and  the  rest  in  danger 
of  the  law,  Her  Majesty  caused 
them  all  to  be  shipped  away,  and 
sent  out  of  England :  from  whence 
it  seems  probable,  that  he  went  im- 
mediately to  Rome,  and  at  length 
settled  in  the  city  of  Naples,  where 
he  contracted  an  intimacy  with 
that  zealous  Catholic  John  Pitseus, 
by  whom  he  is  spoken  of  with 
great  respect  and  honour. 

This  account  seems  also  con- 
firmed by  a  copy  of  verses,  pre- 
served by  Sir  John  Harrington, 
which  were  written  by  this  author 
oa  his  being  taken  and  carried  to 
prison,  and  the  readiness  shown 
by  the  Earl  of  Warwick  to  afford 
him  relief:  which  last  circum- 
stance he  hints  at  in  the  following 
words : 

— ,:  Thanks  to  that  Lord  that  wills  me 

good, 
if-  For  I  want  all  things,  saving  hy  and 

•aiiod." 


HEY 

During  the  course  of  his  studies 
at  the- university,  he  translated  three 
of  those  tragedies  which  are  attri- 
buted to  Seneca,  viz. 

1.  Thyestes.     T.      12ivA.  156l . 

2.  Hercules  Fur  ens.  T.  12mo. 
1561. 

3.  Troas.     T.     4to.  1581. 

He  has  chosen  an  uncouth  sort 
of  verse  for  these  translations,  viz. 
that  of  fourteen  syllables.  Yet  he 
ha^  been  very  correct  in  the  mean- 
ing of  his  author,  where  he  has 
stuck  to  the  original;  and  in  some 
alterations,  which  he  has  professed- 
ly made  in  the  conduct  of  the 
pieces,  has  shown  great  judgment 
and  ingenuity. 

Heywood,   John.     This  poet 
was  one  of  the  very  first  dramatic 
writers  that  our  island  produced  : 
"  he  drew  (as  Mr.  Warton  says) 
"  the  Bible  from  the  stage  ;  and 
"  introduced  representations  of  fa- 
"  miliar  life  and  popular  manners." 
He  was  born  at  North  Mims,  near 
St.  Alban's  in  Hertfordshire,  and 
was  educated  at  Oxford  ;  but  the 
sprightliness  of  his  disposition  not 
being  well  adapted  to   the  seden- 
tary life   of   an   academician,   he 
went   back    to    his    native   place, 
which  being  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  great  Sir  Thomas  More,  he 
presently  contracted  an   intimacy 
with  that  Maecenas  of  wit  and  ge- 
nius, who  introduced  him  to  the 
knowledge  and  patronage  of  the 
Princess  Mary.    Heywood's  ready 
wit   and  aptness  for  jest  and  re- 
par-tee,  .together  with  the  posses- 
sion of  gre  .t  skill  both  In  vocal  and 
instrumental  music,  rendered  him 
a  favourite  with  Henry  VIII.  who 
frequently  rewarded  him  very  high- 
ly. On  the  accession  of  Edward  VI. 
he  still  continued  in  favour,  though 
the  author  of  The  Art  of  English 
Poetry  says,  it  was  "  for  the  mirth 
"  and  quickness  of  conceit,  more 


329 


H  E  Y 

**  than  any  good  learning  that  was 
'•'  in  him."  When  his  old  patro- 
ness Queen  Mary  came  to  the 
throne,  he  stood  in  higher  estima- 
tion than  ever,  being  admitted  in- 
to the  most  intimate  conversation 
with  her,  on  account  of  his  happy 
talent  of  telling  diverting  stories, 
which  he  did  to  amuse  her  painful 
hours,  even  when  shewn-,  languish- 
ing on  her  death-bed. 

At  the  decease  of  that  Princess, 
however,  being  a  bigoted  Roman 
Catholic,  perceiving  that  the  Pro- 
testant interest  was  likely  to  pre- 
vail under  the  patronage  of  her 
successor  Queen  Elizabeth,  and 
perhaps  apprehensive  that  some  of 
the  severities,  which  had  been 
practised  on  the  Protestants  in  the 
preceding  reign,  might  be  reta- 
liated on  those  of  a  contrary  per- 
suasion in  the  ensuing  one,  and 
more  especially  on  the  peculiar 
favourites  of  Queen  Alary,  he 
thought  it  best,  for  the  security  of 
his  person,  and  the  preservation  of 
his  religion,  to  quit  the  kingdom. 
Thus  throwing  himself  into  a  vo- 
luntary exile,  he  settled  at  Mechlin 
in  Brabant,  where  he  died  in  1565, 
leaving  several  children  behind 
him,  to  all  of  whom  he  had  given 
liberal  educations.  Among  the  rest 
was  Jasper,  some  account  of  whom 
we  gave  in  the  last  article. 

From  what  has  been  said  above, 
his  character  in  private  life  may 
be  gathered  to  have  been  that  of 
i  sprightly,  humorous,  and  enter- 
taining companion.  As  a  poet,  he 
was  held  in  no  inconsiderable 
esteem  by  his  contemporaries, 
though  none  of  his  writings  ex- 
tended to  any  great  length,  but 
seem,  like  his  conversation,  to 
have  been  the  result  of  little  sud- 
den sallies  of  mirth  and  humour. 
His   longest    work   is   entitled  A 


HEY 

Parable  of  the  Spider  and  the  Fly, 
and  forms  a  pretty  thick  quarto 
in  old  English  verse,  and  printed 
in  the  black  letter.  Our  honest 
chronicler  Holinshed  describes  this 
poem  in  the  following  words : 
"  One  also  hath  made  a  booke  of 
"  the  Spider  and  the  Flie,  wherein 
"  he  dealeth  so  profoundlic,  and 
"  beyond  all  measure  of  skill,  that 
"  neither  he  himselfe  that  made 
"  it,  neither  anie  one  that  readeth 
"  it,  can  reach  unto  the  meaning 
"  thereof"  Description  of  Eng- 
land,  p.  22g.  By  way  of  frontis- 
piece to  this  book  is  a  wooden 
print  of  the  author  at  full  length, 
and  most  probably  in  the  habit  he 
usually  wore ;  for  he  is  dressed  in 
a  fur  ffown,  somewhat  resembling: 
that  of  a  master  of  arts,  excepting 
that  the  bottom  of  the  sleeves 
reaches  no  lower  than  his  knees. 
He  has  a  round  cap  on  his  head, 
and  a  dagger  hanging  to  his  girdle; 
and  his  chin  and  lips  are  close 
shaven. 

His  other  works  are,  a  dialogue 
composed  of  all  the  proverbs  in 
the  English  language;  and  three 
quarto  pamphlets,  containing  six 
hundred  epigrams.  None  of  his 
dramatic  works,  which  are  six  in 
numl  er,  have  extended  beyond  the 
limi  >f  an  interlude.  The  titles 
ot    hem  are  as  follow  : 

1 .  A  Play  letiveen  Johan  the 
Husband,  Tyb  the  Wife,  and  Sir 
Johan  the  Priest.     4to.  1533. 

2.  A  mery  Play  between  the  Par- 
doner and  the  Fr ere,  the  Cvrate  and 
Neybbnr  Pratte.    4to.  1533. 

3.  The  Play  called  the  Four  P's. 
A  newc  and  a  very  mery  Interlude 
of  a  Palmer,  a  Pardoner,  a  Poty- 
cary,  a  Pedlar.  4to.  N.  D.  In 
Dodslev's  Collection. 

4.  A  Play  of  Love.  Int.  4to. 
1533. 


330 


HEY 

5.  A  Play  of  the  Wether,  called 
A  new  and  a  very  mery  Inter lu  ie  of 
Wethers.      4to.  1533. 

6.  A  Play  of  Gent iln ess  a  ■'  I  Afo- 
lilitie.  Int.  4to.  N.  D.  [about 
1535.] 

Phillips  and  Winstanley  have  at- 
tributed two  other  pieces  to  him, 
viz. 

The  Pindar  of  Wakefield. 
Philotus,  Scotch. 
But  Langbaine  rejects  their  autho- 
rity, and  with  very  good  reason. 

The  following  story  is  related  of 
our  author  by  Puttenham  (Art  of 
English  Poesie,  p.  230,  ed.  15S9)  : 
"  Some  speech  may  be,  when 
"  it  is  spoken,  very  undecent,  yet 
"  the  same,  having  something  add- 
"  ed  to  it,  may  become  prety,  and 

<f  decent,    as  hapned   on  a 

«f  time  at  the  Duke  of  Northum- 
"  berlandes  bourd,  where  merry 
"  John  Heywood  was  allowed  to 
"  sit  at  the  table's  end.  The  Duke 
•"'  had  a  very  noble  and  honourable 
"  mynde  alwayes  to  pay  his  debts 
•*  well ;  and  when  he  lacked  mo- 
'•  ney,  would  not  sticke  to  sell  the 
'*'  greatest  part  of  his  plate  :  so  he 
"  had  done  a  few  dayes  before. 
**  Heywood,  being  loth  to  call  for 
"  his  drink  so  oft  as  he  was  dry, 
"  turned  his  eye  towards  the  cup- 
"  board,  and  said,  '  I  find  great 
k<  misse  of  your  Grace's  standing 
"  cups.'  The  Duke,  thinking  he 
"■  had  spoken  it  of  some  know- 
"  ledge  that  his  plate  was  lately 
"  sold,  said  somewhat  sharply, 
**■  '  Why,  Sir,  will  not  those  cuppes 
"  serve  as  good  a  man  as  your- 
*'  selfe?'  Heywood  readily  replied, 
"  '  Yes,  if  it  please  your  Grace ; 
"  but  I  would  have  one  of  them 
"  stand  still  at  my  elbow,  full  of 
"  drinke,  that  I  might  not  be 
"  driven  to  trouble  your  man  so 
"  often  to  call  for  it.'  This  plea- 
<c  sant  and  speedy  reverse  of  the 


HEY 

"  former  wordes  holpe  all  the 
"  matter  againe ;  whereupon  the 
"  Duke  became  very  pleasaunt, 
"  and  dranke  a  bolle  of  wine  to 
"  Heywood,  and  bid  a  cuppe 
"  should  alwayes  be  standing  by 
"  him." 

We  do  not  find  any  writer  who 
ascertains  the  exact  time  of  John 
Heywood's  birth,  or  his  age  at  the 
time  of  bis  death ;  but  he  could 
not  have  died  a  young  man,  as  we 
know  him  to  have  survived  the  birth 
of  his  son  Jasper  by  full  thirty 
years. 

Heywood,  Matthew.  We 
do  not  find  such  a  person  men- 
tioned by  any  of  the  writers  but 
Winstanley,  who  (Lives  of  the 
Poets,  p.  97),  after  mentioning 
John,  Thomas,  and  Jasper  Hey- 
wood, adds,  "  and,  as  if  the  names 
"  of  Heywood  were  destinated  to 
"  the  stage,  in  mv  time  I  knew 
"  one  Matthew  Heywood,  who 
"  wrote  a  comedy,  called 

"  The  Changeling, 
"  that  should  have  been  acted  at 
"  Audley  End   House,  but,  by  I 
"  know  not  what    accident,  was 
"  prevented." 

It  is  difficult  to  controvert  what 
our  author  thus  asserts  on  his 
knowledge  :  but  Winstanley  was 
very  liable  to  mistakes  ;  and  it  is 
wTell  known  that  there  is  a  comedy 
of  that  name  extant,  which  was 
written  by  Middleton  and  Rowley 
in  conjunction,  and  that  no  other 
stands  in  any  of  the  catalogues. 

Heywood,  Thomas.  This  au- 
thor was  an  actor  as  well  as  a 
writer,  and  flourished  in  the  reigns 
of  Queen  Elizabeth,  King  James  I. 
and  King  Charles  I.  though  what 
particular  year  gave  him  to  the 
world,  or  robbed  it  of  him,  seems 
not  easy  to  ascertain.  He  appears 
to  have  been  a  native  of  Lincoln- 
shire, from  a  copy  of  verses  to  his 


331 


HEY 

friend*  James  Yorke,  on  his  book 
of  Heraldry,  prefixed  to  that  work. 
He  Was  certainly  the  most  volu- 
minous dramatic  writer  that  this 
nation,  or  indeed  any  other,  ever 
produced,  excepting  the  celebrated 
Spanish  playwright  Lopez  de  Ve- 
ga ;  for,  iu  the  preface  to  one  of 
his  plays,  called  The  English  Tra- 
veller, he  tells  us,  that  it  was  one 
preserved  amongst  two  hundred 
and  twenty,  in  which,  says  he, 
"  I  had  either  ah  entire  hand,  or 
*'  at  least  a  main  finger."  Of  this 
prodigious  number,  however,  there 
are,  comparatively,  very  few  re- 
maining. For  this,  different  rea- 
sons might  perhaps  be  assigned. 
Those  that  kirkman  has  given  us 
are  romantic  and  extravagant  to 
the  greatest  degree.  "  It  is  said 
"  (relates  Kirkman)  that  he  not 
"  only  acted  himself  every  day, 
"  but  also  wrote  everyday  a  sheet  j 
"  and,  that  he  might  lose  no  time, 
"  many  of  his  plays  were  cora- 
tc  posed  in  the  tavern,  on  the  back- 
"  side  of  tavern-bills,  which  may 
"  be  the  occasion  that  so  many  of 
'*  them  are  lost."  But  this  account 
is  inconsistent  with  all  belief;  for, 
besides  that  it  is  not  apparent 
that  Hey  wood's  circumstances  were 
ever  such  as  should  compel  him  to 
make  these  shifts,  or  that  a  man, 
who  was  a  constant  frequenter  of 
taverns,  should  at  the  same  time 
be  so  penurious  as  to  make  use  of 
bills  to  spare  himself  the  expense 
of  a  few  sheets  of  paper  ;  yet,  had 
even  this  been  the  case,  it  would 
not  occasion  the  loss  of  his  pieces; 
since,  before  they  could  possibly 
be  performed,  these  scraps  must 
have  been  all  collected  together, 
and  transcribed  in  a  body,  for  the 
useof  the  performersand  prompter. 
But  the  reasons  he  himself  has 
given  us,  in  the  above-mentioned 
preface,  seeai  to  be  the  most  ra- 


H  E  Y 


tional  ones  ;  for,  though  it  is  pro* 
bable  that  so  active  a  genius,  as  it 
is  evident,  from  the  bu!k  of  his 
works,  Mr.  Heywood's  must  have 
been,  could  never  be  idle,  nor 
afford  to  lose  any  lime,  or  even  let 
a  single  thought  pass  by  him  un- 
employed at  the  very  moment  it 
occurred  ;  and  that,  consequently, 
he  might  have  planned  some  of 
his  plays  in  taverns,  and  even  have 
secured  some  occasional  hints,  by 
penning  them  down  on  the  back 
of  tavern-bills,  or  any  occasional 
scraps  of  paper  he  might  have 
about  him  ;  yet  it  is  very  unlikely 
that  heshould  suffer  those  thoughts, 
he  had  been  so  careful  to  preserve, 
to  be  afterwards  lost  by  an  unac- 
countable negligence.  But  he  gives 
us  three  very  good  reasons  for  no 
more  of  his  pieces  having  appeared 
in  print;  the  first,  "  that  many  of 
"  them,  by  the  shifting  and  change 
"  of  companies"  (at  a  time  when 
there  were  so  many  theatres  in 
the  metropolis,  and  the  perform- 
ers, moreover,  frequently  travel-? 
led  the  country),  "  had  been  neg- 
"  ligently  lost."  The  second, ' '  that 
"  others  of  them  were  still  re- 
"  tained  in  the  hands  of  some 
"  actors,  who  thought  it  against 
"  their  profit  to  have  them  come 
"  in  print."  And  here  it  will  be 
proper  to  observe  (saysMr.  Baker), 
that  at  that  time  the  profits  of  an 
author  were  not  determined  by  the- 
success  of  his  works,  no  such  thing 
as  third  nights  being  known  or 
thought  of  till  after  the  Restora- 
tion*, but  that  the  actors  pur- 
chased to  themselves  the  sole  pro- 
perty of  the  copy ;  by  which  means, 
as  it  could  not  be  their  interest  to 

*  This  assertion  is  not  well  founded  ; 
for  it  appears,  from  a  prologue  of  Dek- 
ker's,  that  authors  had  the  benefit  of 
one  thiid  night  so  early  as  the  year 
i6u* 


532 


HEY 

publish  any  piece  till  the  public 
curiosity  in  regard  to  it  was  en- 
tirely sated,  it  is  probable  many 
very  good  plays  may  have  been 
entirely  lost.  The  third  reason  he 
gives  us  is,  "  that  it  was  never 
"  any  great  ambition  in  him  to 
"  be  voluminously  read." 

Those  of  bis  works,  which  are 
to  be  met  with  in  print,  are  as 
follow  : 

1  &  2.  Edward  IF.  Hist.  Play, 
in  two  parts.  B.  L.  4to.  N.D. 
[J599.] 

3  &  4.  If  you  know  not  me,  yen 
know  Nobody.  Hist. Play i  in  two 
parts.  4to.  1605,  l60(S.  [Some- 
times called  Queen  Elizabeth.'] 

5.  Fair  Maid  of  the  Exchange. 
Com.     4to.  1607. 

6.  Golden  Age.  Hist.  Play.  4to. 
1611. 

7.  Silver  Age.  Hist.  Play.  4to. 
I6l3. 

S.  Brazen  Age.  Hist.  Play,  4to. 
!6l3. 

Q.  Four  '  Frentises  of  London. 
Hist.  Play.    4to.  1015. 

10.  JFbman  kit  I'd  with  Kindness. 
Trag.  4to.  101 7.  In  Dodsley's 
Collection. 

11.  Rape  of  Lucrece.  Trag.  4to. 
1630. 

12  &  13.  Fair  Maid  of 'the  West. 
C.  in  two  parts.     4to.  1031. 

14  &  15.  Iron  Age.  HL-t.  Play, 
in  two  parts.     4to.  1(532. 

16.  English  Traveller.  Tragi- 
Com.     4to.  1633. 

17.  Maidenhead  well  lost.  Com. 
4to.  1634. 

IS.  Lancashire  Witches.  Com. 
(assisted  by  Richard  Brome).  4to. 
1634. 

1Q.  Lovc\s  Mistress.  Masque. 
4to.  1636;  4to.  1640. 

20.  Challenge  for  Beauty.  Tr. 
Com.     4to.  1636. 

21.  The  Royal  King  and  the 
Loyal  Subject.  Tragi-Com.  4to. 
i037> 


HEY 

22.  Wise  Woman  of  Hogsdon. 
Com.     4to.  1638. 

23.  Fortune  by  Land  and  Sea. 
Tragi-Com.  (assisted  by  William 
Rowley).     4to.  1655. 

Mr.  Heywood  appears  to  have 
been  a  very  favourite  author  with 
Langbaine,  who  ranks  him  in  the 
second  class  of  dramatic  writers, 
though  his  contemporaries  would 
not  allow  his  performances  to  stand 
so  high  in  desert ;  as  may  be  ga- 
thered from  the  following  lines, 
which  Langbaine  has  quoted  from 
one  of  the  poets  of  that  time,  who, 
after  mentioning  some  other  au- 
thors, thus  proceeds  : 


■"  And  Heywood  sage, 


"  TV  apologetic  Atlas  of  the  stage  ; 

"  ^Ve  1  of  the  Goldtn  Age  he  could  en- 
treat, 

"  But  little  of  the  metal  he  could  get ; 

"  Threescore  sweet  babes  he  fashion'd  at 
a  lump, 

c<  For  he  was  christen'd  in  Parnassus* 
pump ; 

'*  The  Muses'  gossip  to  Auro-a's  bed, 

"  And  ever  since  that  time  his  face  was 
led." 

It  must  be  allowed,  however,  that 
he  was  a  good  general  scholar, 
and  a  very  tolerable  master  of  the 
classical  languages,  as  appears  from 
the  great  use  he  made  of  the  an- 
cients, and  his  various  quotations 
from  them  in  his  works,  especially 
his  Actor  s  Vindication,  in  which 
he  has  displayed  great  erudition. 
"What  rank  he  held  as  an  actor  we 
know  not,  but  it  is  probable  no 
very  considerable  one,  as  all  his 
biographers  are  silent  on  that  head  j 
and,  indeed,  if  we  consider  how 
much  he  wrote,  it  is  scarcely  pos- 
sible to  conceive  he  could  have  so 
much  time  to  spare  for  an  applica- 
tion to  that  art,  as  was  necessary 
for  the  attaining  any  perfection 
in  it. 

Besides  his  Apology  for  Actors, 
he  wrote  a  Life  of  Merlin ;  The 


333 


H  I  F 


Hierarchy  of  Angels ;  Life  of  Queen 
Elizabeth ;  The  Lives  of  Nine  Wor- 
thies ;  The  Lives  of  Nine  Women 
Worthies ;  A  general  History  of 
Women  ;  and  also  a  book  of  Plea- 
sant Dialogues  and  Dramas,  chiefly 
Translations,  1 2mo.l  637  i  in  which 
occur  the  following : 

Amphrisa.     Past.  Dram. 

Apollo  and  Daphne.     Dram. 

Jupiter  and  Io.     Dram. 

Masque  at  Hunsdon  House. 
Heywood  likewise  wrote  the  City 
Pageants  of  1631,  1(332,  1633, 
16'37,  1633,  1639.  See  Vol.  III. 
art.  Pageants  ;  and  he  was  one 
of  the  writers  of  "  Annalia  Du- 
"  brensia,  upon  the  yeerely  Cele- 
'*  bration  of  Mr.  Robert  Dover's 
"  Olimpick  Games  uponCotswold- 
"  hills,"  published  in  London,  4to. 
l636.  No  less  than  thirty-two 
persons  are  mentioned  in  the  title- 
page  as  the  writers  of  this  publi- 
cation; among  whom  are  Michael 
Drayton  and  Ben  Jonson.  He  was 
also  employed  in  contriving  the 
emblematic  devices  about  a  royal 
ship,  built  in  163/,  at  Woolwich, 
by  Phineas  Pett. 

The  following  unpublished  dra- 
mas are  also  ascribed  to  Thomas 
Hey  wood's  pen : 

1.  Joan  as  good  as  My  Lady. 
P.      15CJ3. 

2.  War  without  Blows.  P.  1598. 

3.  The  Blind  cat  many  a  Fly. 
P.     1602. 

4.  Marshal  Osrick.      P.      1602. 

5.  Love's  Masterpiece.  C.    1640. 

6.  Cupid  and  Psyche.     Play. 

Hiffernan,  Paul.  This  au- 
thor was  born  in  Dublin  in  the 
year  17 If),  received  part  of  his 
education  in  a  classical  seminary 
in  that  city,  and  took  the  degree 
of  bachelor  of  physic  in  a  college 
in  the  south  of  France ;  but,  not 
having  met  with  any  great  success 
in  the  profes-ion  he  was  bred  to, 


H  I  G 

was  obliged  to  rely  on  his  pen  for 
a  subsistence.  While  in  Dublin, 
he  was  for  some  time  concerned 
in  a  public  political  paper,  called 
The  Tickler,  written  in  opposition 
to  the  famous  Dr.  Lucas ;  and, 
after  his  coming  over  to  this  king- 
dom, was  employed  by  the  book- 
sellers in  various  works  of  transla- 
tion, compilemenf,  &:c.  In  short, 
with  no  principles,  and  slender 
abilities,  he  was  perpetually  dis- 
gracing literature,  which  he  was 
doomed  to  follow  for  bread,  by- 
such  a  conduct  as  was  even  un- 
worthy of  the  lowest  and  most 
contemptible  of  the  vulgar.  His 
conversation  was  highly  offensive 
to  decency  and  good  manners,  and 
his  whole  behaviour  discovered  a 
mind  over  which  the  opinions  of 
mankind  had  no  influence.  After 
an  irregular  and  shameful  life,  op- 
pressed by  poverty,  and  in  the 
latter  part  of  it  by  disease,  he 
ended  a  miserable  existence  about 
the  beginning  of  June  1777- 

Of  this  eccentric  being  seme 
very  amusing  anecdotes  are  related 
in  the  xxvth  vol.  of  The  European 
Magazine,  p.  110,  &c.  and  179, 
&c. 

His  dramatic  works  are, 

1.  The  Lady's  Choice.  P.  P. 
Svo.     N.  D.  ['1759.] 

2.  The  [fishes  of  a  Free  People. 
D.  P.     Svo.  176I. 

3.  The  New  Hippocrates.  F. 
1761.     N.  P. 

4.  The  Earl  of  Warwick  T. 
8vo.  1764. 

5.  National  Prejudice.  C.  J 768. 
N.P. 

6.  The  Philosophic  Whim  ;  or, 
Astronomy  a  Farce.    F.  4to.  1774. 

He  also  completed 
The  Heroine  of  the  Cave. 
See  Jones,  Henry. 

Higden,  Henry.  This  gen- 
tleman was  a  member  of  the  ho- 


^34 

'HIG  II  I  L 

nourable   society   of  the   Middle     March    1,  1/35,    having   written 
Temple    during     the     reigns    of     one  play,  called 


James  II.  and  King  William  III. 
He  was  a  person  of  great  wit, 
an  agreeable  and  facetious  com- 
panion, and  well  known  to  all  the 


The  Generous  Conqueror.;  or, The 
Timely  Discovery.  T.   4to.  l/O'i. 

Hill,  Aaron.  This  gentle- 
man, who  was  born   in   Beaufort 


•sprightly  and   convertible    part  of  Buildings,  in  the  Strand,  February 

the  town.     He  was  author  of  one  10,   1684-5,  was  the  eldest  son  of 

•dramatic  piece,  entitled  George  Hill,  Esq.  of  Malmsbury 

The  Wary  Widow.  C.  4to.  lGQ3.  Abbey,  in  Wiltshire;  and,  in  con- 
and,  indeed,  his  fondness  for  the  sequence  of  this  descent,  the  legal 
convivial  and  social  delights  seem-  heir  to  an  entailed  estate  of  about 
•ed  to  show  itself  very  apparent  2000/.  pef  annum  ;  but  the  indis- 
even  in  the  conduct  of  his  play;  cretions  and  misconduct  of  hk> 
for  he  had  introduced  so  many  father  having,  by  a  sale  of  the  pro- 
drinking  scenes  into  it,  that  the  perty,  which  he  had  no  right  to 
performers  got  drunk  before  the  execute,  rendered  it  of  no  advan- 
end  of  the  third  act,  and,  being  tsge  to  the  family  to  which  it  justly 
unable  to  proceed  with  the  repre-  belonged,  our  author  was  left,  fo- 
mentation, were  obliged  to  dismiss  gether  with  Mr.  Hill's  other  chil- 
the  audience.  Of  the  behaviour  of  dren,  to  the  care  of,  and  depend- 
the  bear-garden  critics  (as  the  ance  on,  his  mother  and  grand- 
author  calls  them),  on  this  occa-  -mother;  the  latter  of  whom  (Mrs. 
sion,  he  strongly  complains  in  his  Anne  Gregory)  was  more  parti- 
preface,  cularly  anxious  for  his  education 

Higden,  Ralph.     To  a  person  and  improvement.     The  first  ru- 

of  this  name  have  been  ascribed  dirnents   of  learning  he    received 


The  Chester  Mysteries; 
exhibited  at  Chester  in    132S,   at 


from  Mr.  Reyner,   of  Barnstaple, 
in  Devonshire,  to  whom  he  was 


the  expense  of  the  several  trading     sent  at   nine  years  old  ;   and,  on 


corporations  of  that  city.  [See  the 
detail  of  them,  in  Vol.  II.  p.  05, 
fcc] 

Higgons,  Bevil,  was  the 
younger  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Hig- 
gons, of  whom  an  account  may  be 
seen  in  Mr.  Nichols's  Select  Collect, 
of  Poems,  vol.  i.  p.  4*2,  by  Bridget, 
his  second  wife.     At  the  asre  of 


his  removal  from  thence,  was 
placed  at  Westminster  school,  un- 
der the  care  of  the  celebrated  Dr. 
Knipe.  Here  his  genius  soon  ren- 
dered itself  conspicuous,  and,  by 
enabling  him  at  times  to  perform 
the  tasks  of  others  as  well  as  his 
own,  frequently  procured  for  him, 
from  some  of  his  school-fellows  of 


sixteen,  he  became  a  commoner  of    more    limited   abilities,  an  ample 


St.  John's  College,  Oxford,  in 
Lent  term,  1686;  but  went  after- 
wards to  Cambridge.  He  was  a 
steady  adherent  to  the  cause  of  the 
exiled  family,  and  accompanied 
King  James  into  France,  where  he 
maintained  his  wit  and  good  hu- 
mour undepressed  by  misfortunes. 
He  published  a  book  against  Bi 


amends  for  the  very  scanty  allow- 
ance of  pocket-money  which  the 
circumstances  of  his  family  laid 
him  under  the  necessity  of  being 
contented  with. 

Our  author  left  Westminster 
school  in  the  year  l60Q,  being 
then  only  fourteen  years  of  age; 
and,  having  heard  his  mother  fre- 


shop  Burnet's  History,    and  died    quently  make  warm  mention  of 


535 


H  I  L 

the  Lord  Paget,  who  was  a  pretty 
near  relation  of  hers,  and-was  at 
that  time  at  Constantinople,  in  the 
rank  of  ambassador  from  the  Eng- 
lish to  the  Ottoman  court,  he  con- 
ceived a  very  strong  inclination  for 
payirrg  a  visit,  and  making  him- 
self known,  to  that  nobleman. 
This  design  he  communicated  to 
Mrs.  Gregory,  and,  meeting  with 
no  opposition  from  her  in  it,  he 
embarked  on  the  -2d  of  March 
]JUO,  being  then  but  just  fifteen, 


II  I  L 
for  him  at  his  death,  had  not  the 
envy  and  malevolence  of  a  certain 
female,  who  had  great  influence 
with  him,  by  falsehoods  and  mis- 
representations, in  great  measure, 
prevented  his  good  intentions  to- 
wards him.  Fortune,  however, 
and  his  own  merits,  made  him 
amends  for  the  loss  of  this  patron- 
age ;  for  his  known  sobriety  and 
good  understanding  recommended 
him  soon  after  to  Sir  William 
Wentworth,  a  worthy  baronet  of 


on  board  a  vessel  that  was  going  to    lorkshire,  who    being  inclinable 


Constantinople,  in  which  city  he 
arrived  after  a  safe  and  prosperous 
voyage. 

On  his  arrival,  he  was  received 
With  the  utmost  kindness  and  cor- 


to  make  the  tour  of  Europe,  his 
relations  engaged  Mr.  Hill  to  ac- 
company him  as  a  sort  of  governor 
or  travelling  tutor;  which  office, 
though  himself  of  an  a^e  which 


diality    by   the   ambassador,    who    might   rather  be  expected   to  re- 
was  no  less  pleased  than  surprised    quire  the  being  put  under  tuition 


at  that  ardour  for  improvement, 
which  could  induce  a  youth  of  his 
tender'  years  to  adventure  such  a 
voyage,  on  a- visit  to  a  relation 
whom  he  knew  by  character  only. 
He  immediately  provided  him  a 
tutor  in  the  house  with  himself, 
under  whose  tuition  he  very  soon 
sent  him  to  travel,  being  desirous 


itself,  than  to  become  the  guide 
and  director  of  others,  he  executed 
so  well,  as  to  bring  home  the 
young  gentleman,  alter  a  course 
ot  two  or  three  years,  very  greatly 
improved,  to  the  entire  satisfae- 
tion,  not  only  of  himself,  but  of 
all  his  friends. 

In  the  year  1/OQ  he  commenced 


of  indulging  to  the   utmost  that  author,  by  the  publication  of  an 

laudable    curiosity   and    thirst   of  H'istory    of  the   Ottoman   Empire, 

knowledge,     which     seemed     so  compiled  from  the  materials  which 

strongly  impressed  on  the  amiable  he  had  collected  in  the  course  of 

mind  of    our    young   adventurer,  his    different   travels,   and  during 

With  this  gentleman,  who  was  a  his  residence  at  the  Turkish  court, 

learned    ecclesiastic,   he   travelled  This  work,    though   it  met  with 


through  Egypt,  Palestine,  and  the 
greater  part  of  the  East ;  and,  on 
Lord  Paget's  returning  home,  as 
that  nobleman  chose  to  take  his 
journey  by  land,  Mr.  Hill  had  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  great  part  of 


success,  Mr.  Plill  frequently  after- 
wards repented  the  having  printed, 
and  would  himself,  at  times,  very 
severely  criticize  on  it;  and  in- 
deed, to  say  the  truth  of  it,  there 
are  in  it  a  great  number  of  puerili- 


Europe,  at  most  of  the  courts  of  ties,  which  render  it  far  inferior  to 
which  the  ambassador  made  seme  the  merit  of  his  subsequent  writ- 
little  stay,  ings;  in  which  correctness  has 
With  Lord  Paget  our  author  con-  ever  been  so  strong  a  characteristic 
tinued  in  great  estimation  ;  and  that  his  critics  have  even  attri- 
it  is  not  improbable  that  his  Lord-  buted  it  to  him  as  a  fault ;  where- 
ship  might  have  provided  genteelly  as,    in  this  work,    there   at   best 


33t> 

H I L  HIL 

appears  the  labour  or'  a  juvenile     met  with  very  great  and  deserved 
genius,    rather  choosing    to   give     success. 


the  full  rein  to  fiery  fancy,  and 
indulge  the  imagination  of  the 
poet,  than  make  use  of  the  curb  of 
cooler  judgment,  or  aim  at  the 
plainness  and  perspicuity  of  the 
historian.  About  the  same  year 
he  published  his  first  poetical  piece, 
entitled  Camillus,  in  vindication 
and  honour  of  the  Earl  of  Peter- 
borough, who  had  been  general  in 
Spain.  This  poem  was  printed 
without  any  author's  name ;  but 
Lord  Peterborough,  having  made 
it  his  business  to  rind  out  to  whom 
he  was  indebted  for  this  compli- 
ment, appointed  Mr.  Hill  his  se- 
cretary ;  which  post,  however,  he 
quitted  the  year  following,  on  oc- 
casion of  his  marriage. 

In  1/09  he,  at  the  desire  of  Mr. 


It  appears,  from  the  above  ac- 
count, that  Mr.  Hill  was,  at  this 
period,  manager  of  the  theatre, 
which  he  conducted  entirely  to  the 
satisfaction  of  the  public;  and,  in- 
deed, no  man  seemed  better  qua- 
lified for  such  a  station,  if  we  may 
be  allowed  to  form  our  opinion 
from  that  admirable  judgment  in 
theatrical  affairs,  and  perfect  ac- 
quaintance both  with  the  laws  of 
the  drama  and  the  rules  of  acting, 
which  he  gives  proofs  of,  not  only 
in  a  poem,  entitled  The  Jr  I  of  Act- 
ing, and  in  the  course  of  his  perio- 
dical essays,  entitled  The  Prompter, 
which  appeared  in  his  lifetime, 
but  also  in  many  parts  of  an  epis- 
tolary correspondence  which  he 
maintained  with  various  persons  of 


Booth,  wrote  his  first  tragedy  of  taste  and  genius,  and  which  have 
Eljrid;  or,  The  Fair  Inconstant,  since  been  published  among  his 
This  play  was  composed  in  little    posthumous   works,    in  four  vo- 


more  than  a  week,  on  which  ac 
count  it  is  no  wonder  that  it  should 
be,  as  he  himself  has  described  it, 
"  an  unpruned  wilderness  of  fan- 
"  cv,  with  here  and  there  a  flower 
"  among  the  leaves;  but  without 
"  any  fruit  of  judgment."  This, 
however,  he  altered,  and  brought 
on  the  stage  again  about  twenty 


lumes,  in  octavo.  This  post,  how- 
ever, he  relinquished  in  a  few- 
months,  from  some  misunderstand- 
ing ;  and  though  he  was  not  long 
after  very  earnestly  solicited,  and 
that  too  by  a  person  of  the  first 
distinction  and  consequence,  to 
take  the  charge  on  him  again,  yet 
he  could  not  be  prevailed  on,  by 


years  afterwards,  under  the  title  of    any  means,  to  re-accept  it. 


Athelwold.  Yet,  even  in  its  first 
form,  it  met  with  sufficient  en- 
couragement to  induce  him  to  a 
second  attempt  in  the  dramatic 
way,  though  of  another  kind,  viz. 
tl  -  opera  of  Rinaido,  the  music  of 
whi< :)  was  the  first  piece  of  com- 
\  t  -it ion  of  that  admirable  master 
Mi.  Handel,  after  his  arrival  in 
England.  This  piece,  in  the  year 
I71O,  Mr.  Hill  brought  on  the 
stage  at  the  King's  Theatre  in  the 
Haymarket,  of  which  he  was  at 
that  time  director,  and  where  it 


It  is  probable,  however,  that 
neither  pride,  nor  any  harboured 
resentment,  were  the  motives  of 
this  refusal,  but  one  much  more 
amiable,  viz.  an  ardent  zeal  for  ge- 
neral improvement,  and  an  ear- 
nestness for  the  public  good,  which 
ever  attended  him  through  life,  in 
which  he  was  at  all  times  indefa- 
tigable, and  to  which  he,  on  dif- 
ferent occasions,  frequently  sacri- 
ficed not  only  his  ease  and  satis- 
faction, but  even  large  sums  of 
money  also  j  and,  indeed,  this  va- 


33; 


H  I  L 

luable  property  of  public  spirit 
seems  to  have  been  his  soul's  dar- 
ling passion ;  for  he  himself,  in 
one  of  his  prefaces,  speaking  of 
poetry,  tells  us,  "  that  he  has  no 
"  better  reason  for  wishing  it  well, 
"  than  his  love  for  a  mistress 
"  whom  he  should  never  be  mar- 
"  ried  to  ;  for  that,  whenever  he 
e  grew  ambitious,  he  would  wish 
"  to  build  higher,  and  owe  his 
"  memory  to  some  occasion  of 
"  more  importance  than  his  writ- 
"  ings."  To  this  motive,  there- 
fore, we  say,  it  is  probable  that  we 
ought  to  attribute  his  declining 
the  theatrical  direction  ;  for,  in  the 
same  year,  he  married  the  only 
daughter  of  Edward  Norris,  Esq. 
of  Stratford,  in  Essex  j  and,  as  the 
fortune  that  lady  brought  him  was 
very  considerable,  he  was  now  bet- 
ter able  to  pursue  some  of  his  more 
public  designs  than  he  had  before 
been. 

The  first  project  which  Mr.  Hill 
set  on  foot,  for  which  he  obtained 
a  patent,  and  of  which  he  was  him- 
self the  sole  discoverer,  was  the 
making  an  oil,  as  sweet  as  that  from 
olives,  from  the  beech-nuts,  which 
are  a  very  plentiful  produce  of 
some  parts  of  these  kingdoms.  This 
was  an  improvement  apparently 
and  acknowledgedly  of  great  utility, 
and  must  have  turned  out  to  equal 
advantage,  had  the  conduct  of  it 
Continued  in  the  hands  of  the  ori- 
ginal inventor.  But,  being  an 
undertaking  of  too  great  extent  for 
his  o'.vn  fortune  singly  to  pursue, 
he  was  obliged  to  call  in  the  as- 
sistance of  others ;  and  took  a  sub- 
scription of  twenty-five  thousand 
pounds  on  shares  and  annuities,  in 
security  of  which  he  assigned  over 
his  patent  in  trust  for  the  proprie- 
tors, forming  from  among  them- 
selves a  body,  who  were  to  act  in 
concert  with  the  patentee,  under 

VOL.  I. 


h  r  l 

the  denomination  of  the  Beech  OH 
Company.  However,  as  mankind 
a  re  apt  to  be  over-sanguine  in  their 
expectations,  and  too  impatient, 
under  any  the  least  disappointment 
of  those  expectations,  there  soon 
arose  disputes  among  them,  which 
obliged  Mr.  Hill,  in  vindication 
of  some  misrepresentations  con- 
cerning himself,  to  publish  a  fair 
state  of  the  case,  by  which  it  ap- 
peared plainly,  that  all  the  money 
that  had  hitherto  been  employed, 
had  been  fairly  and  candidly  ex- 
pended for  the  public  benefit,  and 
that  the  patentee  had  even  waved 
all  the  advantages,  to  which,  by 
agreement,  he  had  been  entitled. 
These  disputes,  however,  termi- 
nated in  the  overthrowing  the 
whole  design,  without  any  emo- 
lument, either  to  the  patentee  or 
the  adventurers,  at  a  time  when 
profits  were  already  arising  from 
it,  and,  if  pursued  with  vigour, 
would,  in  all  probability,  have 
continued  increasing  and  perma- 
nent. Mr.  Hill  procured  his  pa- 
tent for  this  invention  in  October 
1713,  and  the  date  of  his  public 
appeal,  in  regard  to  the  affair,  is 
the  30th  of  November  1716. 
Thus,  exclusive  of  the  time  em- 
ployed in  bringing  the  invention 
itself  to  maturity,  we  see  a  full 
three  years  labour  of  a  gentleman 
of  abilities  and  ingenuity  entirely 
frustrated,  through  the  inequality 
of  his  own  fortune  to  carry  his 
plan  into  execution  singly,  and  the 
erroneous  warmth  and  impatience 
of  those  various  tempers  with 
which  he  was,  in  consequence  of 
that  insufficiency,  obliged  to  unite 
himself  for  the  perfection  of  it. 

He  was  also  concerned  with  Sir 
Robert  Montgomery,  in  a  design 
for  establishing  a  plantation  of  a 
vast  tract  of  land  in  the  south  of 
Carolina  :    for  which  purpose  a 


333 


tt  I  L 


H  I  L 


grant  had  been  purchased  from 
the  lords  proprietors  of  that  pro- 
vince 5  but  here  again  the  want  of 
a  larger  fortune  than  he  was  mas- 
ter of,  stood  as  a  bar  in  his  way  ; 
for,  though  it  has  many  years  since 
been  extensively  cultivated,  under 
the  name  of  Georgia,  yet  it  never 
proved  of  any  advantage  to  him. 

Another  very  valuable  project 
he  set  on  foot  about  the  year  1727  > 
which  was,  the  turning  to  a  great 
account  many  woods,  of  very  large 
extent,    in  the  north  of  Scotland, 
by  applying  the  timber,  produced 
by  them,  to  the  uses  of  the  navy, 
for  which   it  had  been  long  er- 
roneously   imagined    it    was    to- 
tally unfit.      The  falsity  of  this 
supposition,    however,  he  clearly 
evinced  ;  for  one  entire  vessel  was 
built   of  it ;     and,    on   trial,  was 
found  to  be  of  as  good  timber  as 
that  brought  from  any  part  of  the 
world ;  and  although,  indeed,  there 
were  not  many  trees  in  these  woods 
large  enough  for  masts  to  ships  of 
the  largest  burden,  yet  there  were 
millions  fit  for  those  of  all  smaller 
vessels,  and  for  every  other  branch 
of  ship-building.     In  this  under- 
taking, however,  he  met  with  va- 
rious obstacles,  not  only  from  the 
i°norance  of  the  natives  of  that 
country,    but   even   from  Nature 
herself}  yet  Mr.  Hill's  assiduity 
and  perseverance  surmounted  them 
all.     For  when  the  trees  were,  by 
his  order,  chained  together   into 
floats,   the  unexperienced   High- 
landers refused  to  venture  them- 
selves on   them   down   the   river 
Spey ;  nor  would  have  been  pre- 
vailed on,  had  he  not  first  gone 
himself  to  convince  them  that  there 
was  no  danger.  And  now  the  great 
number  of  rocks,  which  choked 
up  different  parts  of  this  river,  and 
seemed  to   render  it  impassable, 
were  another  impediment  to  his 


expedition.  But,  by  ordering  great 
fires  to  be  made  upon  them  at  the 
time  of  low  tide,  when  they  were 
most  exposed,  and  throwing  quan- 
tities of  water  upon  them,  they 
were,  by  the  help  of  proper  tools, 
broken  to  pieces  and  thrown  down, 
and  a  free  passage  opened  for  the 
floats. 

This  design  was,  for  some  time, 
carried  on  with  great  vigour,  and 
turned  out  to  very  good  account  j 
till  some  of  the  persons  concerned 
in  it  thought  proper  to  call  off  the 
men  and  horses  from  the  wood3 
ofAbernethy,  in  order  to  employ 
them  in  their  lead-mines  in  the 
same  country,  from  whence  they 
promised  themselves  a  still  more 
considerable  advantage.  Of  what 
private  emolument  Mr.  Hill  re- 
ceived from  this  affair,  or  whe- 
ther any  at  all,  we  are  uninformed. 
However,  the  magistrates  of  Inver- 
ness, Aberdeen,  &c.  paid  him  the 
compliment  of  the  freedom  of  their 
respective  towns,  and  entertained 
him  with  all  imaginable  honours. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  these  ho- 
nours, which  were  publicly  paid  to 
our  author,  and  the  distinguished 
civilities  which  he  met  with  from 
the  Duke  and  Dutchess  of  Gordon, 
and  other  persons  of  rank  to  whom 
he  became  known  during  his  re- 
sidence, in  the  Highlands,  this 
northern  expedition  was  near  prov- 
ing of  very  unhappy  consequences 
to  his  fortune  ;  for,  in  his  return, 
his  lady  being  at  that  time  in 
Yorkshire,  for  the  recovery  of  her 
health,  he  made  so  long  a  con- 
tinuance with  her  in  that  county, 
as  afforded  an  opportunity  to  some 
persons,  to  whose  hands  he  had 
confided  the  management  of  cer- 
tain important  affairs,  to  be  guilty 
of  a  breach  of  trust,  that  aimed  at 
the  destruction  of  the  greater  part 
cf  what  he  was  worth.   However, 


339 


H  I  L 

he  happily  returned  time  enough 
to  frustrate  their  villanous  inten- 
tions. 

In  the  year  1/31  he  met  with 
a  severe  shock  by  the  loss  of  his 
lady,  with  whom  he  had  passed 
upwards  of  twenty  happy  years, 
and  to  whom  he  had  ever  had  the 
sincerest  and  tenderest  attachment. 
The  thought  of  the  following  epi- 
taph, which  he  wrote  on  her, 
though  not  original,  is  entirely 
poetical : 

Enough,  cold  stone  ! — suffice  her  long- 

lov'd  name  : 
Words  are  too  weak  to  pay  her  virtue's 

claim. — 
Temples,  and  tomb*,  and  tongues,  shall 

waste  away ; 
And  power's   \iiin  pomp  in  mould'ring 

dust  decay  ; 
But  ere  mankind  a  wife  more  perfect  see, 
Eternity,  OTime!  shall  bury  thee. 

Mr.  Hill,  after  this,  continued 
in  London,  and  in  intercourse  with 
the  public,  till  about  the  year 
1738  ;  when  he,  in  a  manner, 
withdrew  himself  from  the  world, 
by  retiring  to  Plaistow,  in  Essex, 
where  he  devoted  himself  entirely 
to  study,  and  the  cultivation  of 
his  family  and  garden.  Yet  the 
concerns  of  the  public  became  by 
no  means  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  him  5  for,  even  in  this  retire 


H  I  L 

upon  faith,  and  three  books  of  an 
epic  poem,  which  he  had  many 
years  before  begun,  on  the  story 
of  Gideon.    He  also  adapted  to  the 
English  stage  Mons.  de  Voltaire's 
tragedy  of  Merope,  which  was  the 
last  work  he  lived  to  complete; 
for,  from  about  the  time  he  was 
soliciting  the  bringing  it  on  the 
stage,  an  illness  seized  him,  from 
the  tormenting  pains  of  which  he 
had  scarce  an  hour's  intermission; 
and,  after  trying  in  vain   all  the 
aids  that   medicine   couici    ali'ord 
him,  he  at   last  returned  to  Lon- 
don, in  hopes  that  his  native  air 
might  have  proved  beneficial   to 
him  ;    but,  alas  !    he  was  past  re- 
covery, being  wasted  almost  to  a 
skeleton,  from  some  internal  cause, 
which    had  occasioned   a  general 
decay,  and  was  believed  to  be  an 
inflammation  in  the  kidneys,  the 
foundation  of  which,  most  proba- 
bly, had  been  laid  by  his  intense 
and   indefatigable    application    to 
his  studies.     He  just  lived  to  see 
his  tragedy  introduced  to  the  pub- 
lic ;  but  the  day  before  it  was,  by 
command  of  Frederic  Prince   of 
Wales,  to  have  been  represented 
for  his  benefit,   he  died,  in   the 
very    minute   of.  the  earthquake, 
Feb.  S,  1749-50 ;  of  the  shock  of 


ment,  he  closely  applied  to  the  which,  though  speechless,  he  ap- 

bringing  to  perfection  many  pro-  peared  sensible.     This  event  hap- 

fitable  improvements.     One  more  pened  within  two  days  of  the  full 

particularly  he  lived  to  complete,  completion  of  his  sixty-fifth  year, 

though  not    to  reap  any    benefit  the  last  twelvemonth  of  which  he 

from   it  himself  j  viz.  the  art  of  had  passed  in  the  utmost  torment 

making    potash,    equal    to    that  of  body,  but  with  a  calmness  and 


brought  from  Russia,  to  which 
place  an  immense  sum  of  money 
used  annually  to  be  sent  from  these 
kingdoms,  for  that  article  alone. 


resignation  that  gave  testimony  of 
the  most  unshaken  fortitude  of 
soul.  He  was  interred  near  Lord 
Godolphin's    monument,    in    the 


In  his  solitude  he  wrote  and  pub-    great  cloyster  of  Westminster  Ab- 
lished  several  poetical  pieces,  par-    bey,  in  the  same  grave  with  her, 
ticularly  an  heroic  poem,   entitled    who  had,  while  living,  been  the 
The  Fanciad,  another  of  the  same    dearest  to  him. 
kind,  called  The  Impartial,  a  poem        With  regard  to  Mr.  Hill's  pri- 

z  2 


■ 


340 


H  I  L 

vate  character,  he  was,  in  every 
respect,    perfectly  amiable.     His 
person   was,    in    his    youth,    ex- 
tremely fair  and  handsome.     He 
was  tall,  not  too  thin,  yet  gen- 
teelly made.  His  eyes  were  a  dark 
blue,  blight  and  penetrating ;  his 
hair  brown,  and  his  face  oval.  His 
countenance  was  most  generally 
animated  by  a  smile,  which  was 
more   particularly  distinguishable 
whenever  he  entered  into  conver- 
sation j    in   the  doing   which   his 
address  was  most  engagingly  af- 
fable, yet  mingled  with  a  native 
unassumed  dignity,  which  render- 
ed him  equally  the  object  of  ad- 
miration and  respect  with   those 
who  had  the  pleasure  of  his  ac- 
quaintance.   His  voice  was  sweet, 
and  his  conversation  elegant ;  and 
so  extensive  was  his  knowledge  in 
all  subjects,  that  scarcely  any  could 
occur  on  which  he  did  not  acquit 
himself  in  a  most   masterly  and 
entertaining  manner.      His   tem- 
per, though  naturally  warm  when 
roused   by  injuries,    was  equally 
noble   in   a   readiness  to   forgive 
them  ;   and  so  much  inclined  was 
he  to  repay  evil  with  good,  that 
he  frequently  exercised  that  Chris- 
tian lesson,  even  to  the  prejudice 
of  his  own  circumstances.  He  was 
a  generous  master,  a  sincere  friend, 
an  affectionate  husband,  and  an 
indulgent  and  tender  parent;  and 
indeed,  so  benevolent  was  his  dis- 
position in  general,  even  beyond 
the  power  of  the  fortune  he  was 
blessed  with,  that  the  calamities  of 
those  he  knew,  and  valued  as  de- 
serving, affected  him  more  deeply 
than  his  own.     In  consequence  of 
this,  we  find  him  bestowing  the 
profits  of  many  of  his  works  for 
the  relief  of  his  friends,  and  par- 
ticularly his   dramatic    ones,    for 
Done  of  which  he  could  ever  be 


H  I  L 

prevailed  on  to  accept  of  a  benefit; 
till  at  the  very  close  of  his  life, 
when    his   narrow    circumstances 
compelled  him  to  solicit  the  act- 
ing of  his  Merope,  for  the  relief  of 
its   author  from  those  difficulties 
out  of  which    he  had  frequently 
been  the  generous  instrument  of 
extricating  others.     His  manner  of 
living  was  temperate  to  the  greatest 
degiee,   in  every  respect  but  that 
of  late  hours,  which,  as  the  night 
is  less  liable  to  interruptions  than 
the  day,  his  indefatigable  love  of 
study  frequently  drew  him  into. 
No  labour  deterred  him  from  the 
prosecution  of  any  design  which 
appeared  to  him  to  be  praisewor- 
thy and  feasible  ;  nor  was  it  in  the 
power  of  the  greatest  misfortunes 
(and,  indeed,  from  his  birth,  he 
seemed     destined     to    encounter 
many)  to  overcome,  or  even  shake, 
his  fortitude  of  mind. 

As  a  writer,  he  must  be  allowed 
to  stand  in  a  very  exalted  rank  of 
merit.     And  although   it  may  be 
confessed  that  the   rigid  correct- 
ness, with  which  he  constantly  re- 
perused  his  works  for  alteration, 
the  frequent  use  of  compound  epi- 
thets, and   an    orclo   veilorum   in 
great  measure  peculiar  to  himself, 
have  justly  laid  him  open  to  the 
charge  of  being,  in  some  places, 
rather  too   turgid,  and   in  others 
somewhat  obscure ;  yet  the  ner- 
vous power  we  find  in  them  will 
surely  atone  for  the  former  faulty 
and,  as  to  the  latter,  the  intrinsic 
sterling  sense  we  constantly  find  on 
a  close  examination  of  every  pas- 
sage  of    his    writings,    ought    to 
make  us  overlook  our  having  been 
obliged  to  take  some  little  pains 
in    digging   through    the  rock   in 
which  it  was  contained.     As  we 
have,  however,  in  this  place,  no- 
thing to  do  with  any  but  his  dra- 


341 


H  I  L 

matic  writings,  ihe  reader  may 
see  a  complete  catalogue  of  tbc-m 
in  the  i. 

1.  E/frid;  or,  Incon- 
stant.  T.  4 to.  N.D.   [1710.] 

2.  Th  tatue;  or,  The 
Devil  in  the  ir:.e  Cellar.  F.  4to. 
N.D.  [17 

3.  Trick  upon  Trick  ;  or,  Squire 
Brainless.     C.     N.  P. 

4.  Rinaldo.     O.    8vo.    1711. 

5.  The  Fatal  Vision ;  or,  The 
Fall  of  Siam.     T.  4to.   1716. 

6.  /T?V/ff  Henry  V. ;  or,  77?e 
Conquest  of  France  by  the  English. 
T.  8vo.   1723. 

7.  Athelwold.    T.  8vo.  1732. 

8.  Zr/ra.     T.  8vo.    173(5. 

9.  Alzira.    T.  Svo.   1736. 

10.  Merope.     T.  Svo.   l/4Cj. 

1 1 .  Roman  Revenge.  T.  Svo. 
1753. 

12. 
Piety. 

13. 
1759. 

14. 
1760. 

15. 
E 


T$<?   Insolvent ;    or,    Fi/ZaZ 

T.  8vo.   !758. 
Merlin  in  Love.  P.  O.  8vo. 

The  Muses  in  Mourning.  O. 

D. 


The  Snake  in  the  Grass. 
Svo.   176O. 

Id.  Saul.    T.  1760. 

17.  Daraxes.     Past.  Op.   1760. 

Mr.  Hill's  dramatic  works,  in- 
cluding 

The  Fatal  Extravagance, 
were  printed  in  2  vols.  Svo.  1760. 

Our  author  seems  to  have  lived 
in  perfect  harmony  with  all  the 
writers  of  his  time,  excepting  Mr. 
Pope,  with  whom  he  had  a  short 
paper  war,  occasioned  by  that  gen- 
tleman's introducing  him  in  the 
Dunciad,  as  one  of  the  competitors 
for  the  prize  offered  by  the  God- 
dess of  Dulness,  in  the  following 
lines  : 


Then  Hill  essay'd : 

of  sight, 
He  buoys  up   instant 

light  5 


scarce  vanish'd  out 
and  returns  to 


HI  L 

He  bears  no  token  of  the  ? ab!er  streams, 
And  mount1;,  far  off,  among  the  swans 
ofThsmes. 

This,  though  far  the  gentlest 
piece  of  satire  in  the  whole  poem, 
and  conveying  at  the  same  time  an 
oblique  compliment,  in  saying  that 
he  received  no  taint  from  the  dirt 
and  filth,  roused  Mr.  Hill  to  the 
taking  some  notice  of  it,  which? 
he  did  by  a  poem,  written  during 
his  peregrination  in  the  North, 
entiiled  The  Progress  of  Wit,  a 
Caveat  for  the  Use  of  an  eminent 
Writer ;  which  he  begins  with  the 
following  eight  lines,  in  which  Mr. 
Pope's  too  well  known  disposition, 
is  elegantly,  yet  very  severely  cha- 
racterized : 

Tuneful  Alexis,  on  the  Thames'  fair  side, 
The  ladies'  plaything,  and  the   Muses' 

pride  ; 
With  merit  popular,  with  wit  polite, 
Easy,  though  vain,  and  elegant,  though 

light ; 
Desiring,  and  deserving,  others'  praise, 
Poorly  accepts  a  fame  he  ne'er  repays  : 
Unborn  to  cherish,   sneuiin?/v  approves, 
And  wants  the  soul  to  spread  the  worth 

he  loves. 

By  the  "  sneakingly  approves," 
in  the  last  couplet,  Mr.  Pope 
was  much  affected  ;  and,  indeed, 
through  their  whole  controversy 
afterwards,  in  which  it  was  gene- 
rally thought  Mr.  Hill  had  consi- 
derably the  advantage,  Mr.  Pope 
seems  rather  to  express  his  repent- 
ance, by  denying  the  offence,  than 
to  vindicate  himself,  supposing  it 
to  have  been  given. 

Hill,  Herbert.  See  Hql- 
croft,  Thomas. 

Hill,  Sir  John.  This  gen- 
tleman, who  may  very  justly  be 
esteemed  as  a  phaenomenon  in  li- 
terary history,  was  perhaps  one  of 
the  most  voluminous  writers  that 
this  or  any  other  age  has  pro- 
duced ;  yet,  on  an  examination  of, 
h.is  works,  it  will,  we  are  afraid^ 
z3 


342 


H  I  L 
appear,  that  he  has  just  inverted 
that  sentiment  of  Horace,  which  his 
namesake,  above-mentioned,  chose 
for  the  motto  of  his  Fatal  Fision, 
and  that  the  Doctor's  maxim  will 
appear  the  direct  contrary  to  the 

1  not  for  vulgar  admiration  write  ; 

To  be  well  read,  not  much,  is  my  delight. 

But  of  this  more  hereafter.  He  was 
the  second  son  of  one  Mr.  Theo- 
philus  Hill,  a  clergyman,  if  we 
mistake  not,  of  either  Peterborough 
or  Spalding.  Of  the  year  of  our 
author's  birth  we  are  not  absolute- 
ly ascertained,  but  should,  from  a 
collection  of  circumstances,  be  apt 
to  conclude  it  about  1/1.6  or  J7 1 7  J 
as  in  the  year  1/40  we  find  him 
engaged  in  a  controversy  with  Mr. 
Rich  in  regard  to  a  little  opera 
called  Orpheus,  in  which  much 
personal  abuse  appeared  on  both 
sides.  He  was  originally  bound 
apprentice  to  an  apothecary;  after 


H  I  L 

retical  part  also,  of  botany;  and, 
having  procured  a  recommenda- 
tion to  the  late  Duke  of  Richmond, 
and  the  Lord  Petre,  two  noblemen, 
whose  love  of  science  and  constant 
encouragement  of  genius  ever  did 
honour  to  their  country,  he  was 
by  them  employed  in  the  regula- 
tion of  their  respective  botanic 
gardens,  and  the  arrangement  of 
certain  curious  dried  plants,  of 
\\  bich  they  were  in  possession.  As- 
sisted by  the  gratuities  he  received 
from  these  noblemen,  he  was  en- 
abled to  put  a  scheme  in  execution 
of  travelling  over  several  parts  of 
this  kin*<  om,  to  gather  certain  of 
the  moii*  rare  and  uncommon 
planLs;  a  select  number  of  which, 
prepared  in  a  peculiar  manner,  he 
proposed  to  publish,  as  it  were,  by 
subscription,  at  a  certain  price. 
The  labour  and  expenses  atten- 
dant  on    an   undertaking  of  this 


serving  his  time  to  whom,  he  set     kind,  however,  being  very  great, 
up  in  that  profession,  in  a  little    and  the  number  of  even  probable 


shop  in  St.  Martin's  Lane;  but, 
having  very  early  encumbered  him- 
self with  the  cares  of  a  family,  by 
an  hasty  marriage  with  a  young 
woman  of  no  fortune,  the  daugh- 
ter of  one  Mr.  Travers,  who  was 
household  steward  to  the  late  Earl 
of  Burlington,  and  whom  he  fell 


purchasers  very  few,  the  emolu- 
ments accruing  to  him  from  all  his 
industry,  which  was  indeed  inde- 
fatigable, were  by  no  means  ade- 
quate either  to  his  expectations  or 
his  merits.  The  stage  now  pre- 
sented itself  to  him  as  a  soil  in 
which  genius  might  stand  a  chance 


in    love    with    at    a    dance,    he     of    flourishing.      But    this    plan 


found  the  little  business  he  had  in 
his  profession   insufficient  for  the 

support  of  it,  and  therefore  was 
obliged  to  apply  to  other  resources 
to  help  out  the  poor  pittance  he 
could  obtain  by  his  regular  occu- 
pation. Having,  during  his  ap- 
prenticeship, attended  the  botani- 
cal lectures  which  are  periodically 
given  under  the  patronage  of  the 
company  of  Apothecaries,  and  be- 
ing possessed  of  quick  natural  parts 
and   ready  abilities,  he  had  made 


proved  likewise  abortive,  and,  after 
two  or  three  unsuccessful  attempts 
at  the  Little  Theatre  in  the  Hay- 
market,  and  the  Theatre  Royal  in. 
Coven t  Garden,  be  was  obliged  to 
relinquish  his  pretensions  to  the 
sock  and  buskin,  and  apply  again 
to  his  botanical  advantages,  ani 
his  business  as  an  apothecary. 

During  the  course  of  these  oc- 
currences, he  was  introduced  to 
the  acquaintance  of  Martin  Folkes, 
Esq.    the    late   president   of    the 


himself  a  very  complete  master  of    Royal  Society,  to  Dr.  Alexander 
the  practical,  and  indeed  the  theo-    Stuart,  Mr.  Henry  Baker,  F.  R.  S. 


343 


H  I  L 

and  many  other  gentlemen  emi- 
nent in   the  literary  and  philoso- 
phical world,  by  all  of  whom  he 
was  received  and  entertained,  on 
every  occasion,  with  the  utmost 
candour  and  warmth  of  friendship; 
being  esteemed  a  young  man  of 
very  considerable  abilities,  strug- 
gling with  the  most  laudable  as- 
siduity against  the  stream  of  mis- 
fortune,   yet    with    a    degree    of 
bashful  diffidence,  which  seemed 
an  insurmountable  bar  to  his  ever 
being  able  to  stem  the  torrent,  or 
make  that  figure  in  life  to  which 
his  merit  justly  entitled  him.     In 
this  point  of  view  Mr.  Hill  ap- 
peared for  a  considerable  time,  ad- 
mitted to  every  literary  assembly, 
esteemed  and  caressed  by  all  the 
individuals  which  composed  them, 
yet   indigent  and   distressed,  and 
sometimes  put  to  difficulties  for 
the  obtaining  even  the  common 
necessaries   of  life.      At   length, 
about  the  year  1745  or  1740,  at 
which  time  he  had  a  trifling  ap- 
pointment of  apothecary  to  a  re- 
giment or  two  in   the  Savoy,  he 
translated  from  the  Greek  a  small 
tract,  written  by  Theophrastus,  on 
stones  and  gems,  which,  by  the 
addition  of  a  great  number  of  very 
judicious   and   curious  notes,    he 
enlarged  into  an  octavo  volume  of 
three  shillings  and  sixpence  price, 
which  formed  almost  a  complete 
system  of  that  branch  of  natural 
history.     This  work  he  published 
by  subscription,    and,   being  ex- 
tremely  well    executed,    and    as 
strongly  recommended  by  all  his 
literary   friends,  it   not   only  an- 
swered  his   expectations  from    it 
with  respect  to  pecuniary  advan- 
tages, but  also  established  a  repu- 
tation for  him  as  a  writer;  in  con- 
sequence of  which  he  was  imme- 
diately engaged  in  works  of  more 
extent.,  and  of  greater  importance. 


H  I  L 

The  first  work  he  undertook  was 
a  general  Natural  History,  in  three 
volumes,  folio;  the  first  of  which, 
exclusive  of    other   writings,    he 
completed  in  less  than  a  twelve- 
month.    He  was  also  engaged,  in 
conjunction   with   George   Lewis 
Scott,  Esq.    in   a  Supplement  to 
Chambers' s  Dictionary.  He  took  on 
him  the  management  of  a  monthly 
publication,    entitled  The  British 
Magazine,  in  which   he  wrote   a 
great  variety  of  essays  on  different 
subjects;  and  was  at  the  same  time 
concerned  in  many  other  works. 
In  short,  the  rapidity  of  his  pen 
was  astonishing ;  nor  will  it  per- 
haps readily  gain  credit  with  pos- 
terity, that  while  he  was  thus  em- 
ployed in  several  very  voluminous 
concerns   at   one   time,    some  of 
which    were     on     subjects     that 
seemed  to  claim  singly  the  whole 
of  his   attention,    and  which   he 
brought  to  perfection  with  an  ex- 
pedition that  is  scarcely  to  be  con- 
ceived, he  solely,  and  without  any 
assistance,  carried  on  a  daily  perio- 
dical essay,  under  the  title  of  The 
Inspector.     Nor  was  this  the  only 
extraordinary  circumstance  attend- 
ing on  it ;  for,  notwithstanding  all 
this  employment,  so  much  leisure 
did  he  find  means  ever  to  reserve 
to  himself,  that  he  was,  at  the  same 
time,  a  constant  frequenter  of  every 
place  of  public  amusement.     No 
play,  opera,  ball,  or  assembly,  but 
Mr.  Hill  was  sure  to  be  seen  at; 
where  he  collected,  by  wholesale, 
a  great  variety  of  private  intrigue 
and  personal  scandal,  which  he  as 
freely  retailed  again  to  the  public, 
in  his  Inspectors  and  Magazines. 

But  now  a  disposition  began  to 
show  itself  in  this  gentleman, which 
those,  who  had  been  the  most  in- 
timate with  him  in  his  earlier  parts 
of  life,  could  never  have  suspected, 
in  him,  viz.  an  unbounded  share 
z4 


344 

H  I  L  H  I  L 

of  vanity  and  self-sufficiency, which  extent,  and  may  be  handed  down 
bad  for  years  lain  dormant  behind  to  posterity  when  the  cause  of 
the  mask  of  their  direct  opposite  them  is  forgotten,  it  will  not,  per- 
qualities  of  humility  and  dim-  haps,  be  disagreeable  to  our  read- 
dence ;  a  pride,  which  was  perpe-  ers,  if  we  take  up  a  small  portion 
tually  laying  claim  to  homage  by    of  their   time  in   a  detail  of  the 

origin  and  progress  of  it. 

When  Mr.  Hill  had  started  all 
at  once,  as  we  have  before  related, 
from  a  state  of  indigence  and  dis- 
tress, to  taste  the  comforts  of  very 
considerable  emoluments  from  his 
labour,    giddy  with   success,  and 
elated,  beyond  bounds,  with  the 
warm  sunshine  of  prosperity,  he 
seemed  to  be  seized  with  a  kind  of 
infatuation.      Vanity   took    entire 
possession  of  bisbosorn,  and  banish- 
ed  from  thence  every  considera- 
tion but  of  self.     His  conversation 
turned  on  little  else,  and  even  his 
very  writings  were   tainted  with 
perpetual    details    of    every   little 
occurrence  that  happened  to  him. 
A  passion  for  dress,  show,  and  pa- 
rade,   the    natural    attendants    on 
self-love,  now  broke  forth  ;  he  set 
up  his  chariot,  and,  professing  to 
assume  the  character  of  a  mere 
man  of  pleasure,  gallantry,  and  bon 
ton,  affected  to  express,  on  every 
occasion,  the  highest  contempt  for 
business,  and   the   drier   kinds  of 
study.     His  raillery,  both  in  corn- 
pen.     He  also  engaged  himself  in    panyand  in  his  writings,  frequent- 
a  little  paper  war  with  Mr.  Wood-  '  ly  turned  on  those  who  closely  at- 
ward,    the    comedian,    in    ccme- 
quence  of  an  insult  that  comedian 
received,    in   the   exercise  of  his 
profession,  from  a  gentleman  in 
one  of  the  boxes.     Mr.   Hill  was 
also  extremely  busy  in   the  oppo- 
sition against  the  late  Mr.  Henry 
Fielding,     in     that    intricate   and 


no  means  his  due,  and  a  vindic- 
tiveness  which  never  could  forgive 
the  refusal  of  it  to  him.  Hence  it 
was,  that  personal  abuse  and  the 
most  licentious  and  uncandid  scur- 
rility continually  flowed  from  his 
pen  ;  every  affront,  though  ever  .-o 
trivial,  which  his  pride  met  with, 
being  assuredly  revenged  by  a  pub- 
lic attack  on  the  morals,  under- 
standings, or  peculiarities  of  the 
person  from  whom  it  had  been 
received.  In  consequence  of  this 
disposition,  we  find  him  very  fre- 
quently engaged  in  personal  dis- 
putes and  quarrels ;  particularly 
in  one  with  an  Irish  gentleman,  of 
the  name  of  Browne,  who,  on 
fending  himself  universally  consi- 
dered as  the  person  intended  by  a 
very  ridiculous  character  drawn  in 
one  of  the  Inspectors,  thought 
proper  to  bestow  some  correction 
on  him,  not  of  the  gentlest  kind, 
in  the  public  gardens  of  Rane- 
lagh,  to  which,  however,  Mr.  Hill 
does  not  appear  to  have  replied 
with   any  other  weapon  than   his 


tached  themselves  to  philosophical 
investigations,  more  especially  in 
the  branches  of  natural  philosophy. 
The  common-place  wit  of  abusing 
the  medal-scraper,  the  butterfly- 
hunter,  the  cockle-shell  mer-> 
chant,  &rc.  now  appeared  in  some 
of  his  Magazines  and  Inspectors, 
inexplicable  affair  of  Elizabeth  and  in  two  or  three  places  he  even 
Canning.  But  the  most  important  indulged  some  distant  glances  of 
contest  he  was  ever  concerned  in  satire  at  the  Royal  Society.  Not- 
was  his  attack  on  the  Royal  So*  withstanding  which,  however, 
ciety  of  London  :  as  his  writ-  when  the  Supplement  to  Cham- 
ings  on  this  subject  are  of  some    bers's  Dictionary  was  nearly  finish- 


345 


H  I  L 

ed,  the  proprietors  of  that  work, 
very  sensible  of  the  v  eighl  which 
an   F.  R.  S.   ann  :xed  to    the  au- 
thor's name,  ever  has  in  the  re- 
commendation of  a  work  of  that 
nature,  were   very    desirous   that 
Mr.  Hill  (who  had  just  before  this 
purchased  a  diploma  for  the  de- 
gree of  doctor  of  physic  from  the 
Scotch  university  of  St.  Andrews) 
should   also  have   this  addition  as 
well  as  Mr.  Scott,  his  colleague  in 
the  work.    In  consequence  of  this 
their  design,  the  new  Dr.  HiJl  pro- 
cured Mr.  Scott   to  propose  him 
for  election  into  that  honourable 
body  j  but  the  Doctor's  conduct  for 
some  time  past  having  been  such 
as  had  rendered  him  the  object  of 
contempt   to   some,  of  disgust  to 
other.-,  and  of  ridicule  to  almost 
all  the  rest  of  his  former  grave  and 
philosophical    acquai  itances,     he 
now  stood  but  a  very  indifferent 
chance    fdr  carrying  an  election, 
where  an  opposil    m  of  one  I 
was  sufficient  to  reject  the  candi- 
date ;  and   as   the  failing  in  that 
attempt  might  have  done  our  au- 
thor more  essential  prejudice  than 
the  succeeding  in  it  could  even 
have  brought  him  advantage,  the 
late  ingenious  and  worthy  presi- 
dent, Martin  Folkes,  Esq.  whose 
remembrance  must  ever  live  in  the 
highest  estimation   with  all  who 
ever  had  the  honour  of  knowing 
him,  notwithstanding  that  Dr.  Hill 
had   given  him  personal  occasion 
of  offence  against  him,   yet  with 
the  utmost  generosity  and  candour 
advised  Mr.  Scott  to  dissuade  his 
friend,  for  his  own  sake,  against  a 
design   in   which  there  appeared 
so  little  probability  of  his  succeed- 
ing.    This  advice,   however,  Dr. 
Hill,  instead  of  considering  it  in 
the  generous  light  it  was  meant, 
misinterpreted   into   a    prejudiced 
opposition  against  his  interest  j  and 


H  I  L 

would  have  persisted  in  his  inten- 
tion even  in  despite  of  it,  had  not 
his  being;  unable  to  obtain  the  sub- 
scription of  the  requisite  number 
of  members  to  his  recommenda- 
tion, obliged   him  to  lay  it  aside, 
from  a  conviction  that  he  could 
not  expect  to  carry  an  election  in 
a  body  composed  of  three  hundred 
members,  of  which  he  could  not 
prevail  on  three  to  set,  their  names 
to  the  barely  recommending  him 
as  a  candidate.     Thus  disappoint- 
ed,   his    vanity    piqued,    and   his 
pride  lowered,  no  relief  was  left 
him  but  railing  and  scurrility ;  for 
which  purpose,  declaring  open  war 
with  the  society  in  general,  he  first 
published  a  pamphlet,  entitled  A 
Dissertation  on  Royal  Societies,  in  a 
letter  from  aSclavonian  nobleman 
in  London  to  his  friend  in  Sclavo- 
nia ;  which,  besides  the  most  ill- 
mannered  and  unjust  abuse  on  the 
whole  learned  body,  of  which  he 
1     1  been  just  aiming,  in  vain,  to 
become  a  member,   is  interlarded 
with  the  grossest  personal  scurrility 
on  the  characters  of  Mr.  Folkes  and 
Mr.  Henry  Baker,  two  gentlemen  to 
wh(  m  Dr.  Hill  had  formerly  been 
under  the  greatest  obligations,  and 
whose   respective     reputations    in 
both  the  moral  and  literary  World 
had  long  been  too  firmly  establish- 
ed, for  the  weak  efforts  of  a  dis- 
appointed   scribbler  to  shake    or 
undermine.     Not  contented  with 
this,  he   proceeded   to  compile  a 
large  quarto  volume,    entitled  A 
Ri-view  of  the  Works  of  the  Royal 
Society ;  in  which,  by  the  most  un- 
fair  quotations,    mutilations,  and 
misrepresentations,  numbers  of  the 
papers  read  in  that  illustrious  as- 
sembly, and  published  under  the 
title  of  The  Philosophical  Transac- 
tions, are  endeavoured  to  be  ren- 
dered ridiculous.      This  work  is 
ushered  into  the  world  with  a  most 


34rj 


H  I  L 

abusive  and  infamous  dedication 
to  Martin  Folkes,  Esq.  ;  against 
■whom  and  the  afore-mentioned 
Mr.  Henry  Baker,  the  weight  of 
this  furious  attack  was  chiefly 
aimed  j  since  of  the  few  other  au- 
thors, who  have  been  dragged  in 


H  I  L 
for  getting  money,  which,  as  we 
are  informed,  brought  him  a  very 
considerable  income.  This  was  no 
other  than  the  preparation  of  cer- 
tain simple  medicines,  whose  ef- 
tects  are  very  serviceable  in  many 
cases ;  and,  being  mostly  of  the  ve- 


to suffer  the  lash  of  the  Doctor's     getable  kind,  are,  we  believe,  very 
abuse,    much  the  greater  part  of 
them  seem  to  have  had  no  claim 
to  his  resentment,  but  that  of  be- 


ing  correspondents    of,    or    their 
pieces    being   communicated    by, 
one  or  the  other  of  these  gentle- 
men.    But   here    again    Dr.  Hill 
met   with  a  disappointment}    for 
the   persons  whom    he    had  thus 
unjustly  and  ungratefully  attacked, 
being  greatly  above  the  reach  of 
his  malice,  he  found  the  ill  effects 
cfit,  like  a  recoiling  piece,  revert 
on  himself;   the  world,  instead  of 
laughing  with  him,  despised  him; 
those,  who  would  have  otherwise 
been   the  principal  purchasers  of 
his    philosophical  writings,    were 
now  too  much  exasperated  to  af- 
ford him  the  least  encouragement 
or  assistance.    By  giving  so  ample 
a  scope  to   personal   slander  and 
scurrilous  abuse   in  some  of  his 
works,  and  by  his  too  great  hurry, 
and  the   impossibility  of  giving  a 
proper  digestion  to  others,  he  made 
himself  so  many  personal  enemies 
on  the  one  hand,  and  wrote  him- 
self so  out  of  repute,  both   with 
the  town  and  the  booksellers,  on 
the  other,    that  at    length,    even 
when  employed  by  the  latter,  he 
was  obliged,  by  contract,  to  con- 
ceal from  the  former  his  being  the 
author,  from  the  consideration  that 
his   very  name  was  sufficient  to 
damp    the  sale   of  any    piece  to 
which  it  might  be  affixed.     This, 
however,  did  not  prevent  his  en- 
gaging in  many  works,  though  not 
so  voluminously  as  before,  till  at 
length  he  hit  upon  another  method 


inoffensive  in  all.  These  medi- 
cines, in  consequence  of  constant 
advertisements  and  puffing,  have 
had  a  very  extensive  sale  and  con- 
sumption,andare,  we  think, chiefly 
of  four  sorts,  viz.  the  essence  of 
water-dock,  tincture  of  valerian, 
pectoral,  balsam  of  honey,  and  tine- 
ture  of  lardana.  Dr.  Hill  was, 
for  some  time,  warmly  patronized 
by  the  Earl  of  Bute;  through  whose 
interest,  we  have  been  informed, 
he  was  appointed  to  the  manage- 
ment of  the  royal  gardens ;  but, 
by  what  means  we  know  not,  the 
grant  was  never  confirmed.  Un- 
der that  nobleman's  patronage^ 
and,  we  believe,  at  his  expense, 
the  Doctor  published  a  very  pomp- 
ous and  voluminous  botanical  work, 
entitled  A  System  of  Botany,  with 
a  great  number  of  elegant  copper- 
plates. 

About  the  same  time  he  fre- 
quently appeared  at  the  magnifi- 
cent routs  of  the  late  Dutchess  of 
Northumberland,  where,  had  he 
not  been  generally  known,  the 
splendour  of  his  dress  might  have 
denoted  him  to  be  some  person  of 
real  consequence  and  fortune.  But 
as  the  frequenters  of  this  elegant 
assembly  took  not  the  slightest  no- 
tice of  him,  his  situation  among 
the  great  and  the  polite  was  rather 
an  object  of  commiseration  than 
envy. 

In  the  latter  part  of  his  life  he 
was  honoured  by  the  King  of  Swe- 
den with  the  order  of  Vasa,  and 
died  in  November  l/f5,  of  the 
gout,  a  disorder  which,  though  he 


347 


H  I  L 

professed  to  cure  in  others,  he  was 
unable  to  root  out  of  his  own 
constitution.  He  was  buried  at 
Denham. 

And  now,  having  related  what 
peculiar  circumstances  we  have 
been  able  to  collect  in  regard  to  his 
life,  it  may  be  expected  that  we 
should  give  some  observations  with 
respect  to  his  character  5  yet  these 
we  shall  here  confine  only  to  his 
literary  one,  and  the  rank  of  merit 
which  his  writings  ought  to  stand 
in.  Dr.  Hill's  greatest  enemies 
could  not  deny  that  he  was  master 
of  considerable  abilities,  and  an 
amazing  quickness  of  parts.  The 
rapidity  of  his  pen  was  ever  asto- 
nishing ;  and  we  have  been  cre- 
dibly informed,  that  he  has  been 
known  to  receive,  within  one  year, 
no  less  than  fifteen  hundred  pounds 
for  the  works  of  his  own  single 
hand  5  which,  as  he  was  never  in 
such  estimation  as  to  be  entitled 
to  any  extraordinary  price  for  his 
copies,  is,  we  believe,  at  least  three 
times  as  much  as  ever  was  made  by 
any  one  writer  in  the  same  period 
of  time.  But,  had  he  wrote  much 
less,  he  would  probably  have  been 
much  more  read.  The  vast  va- 
riety of  subjects  he  handled,  cer- 
tainly required  such  a  fund  of 
universal  knowledge,  and  such  a 
boundless  genius,  as  were  never, 
perhaps,  known  to  centre  in  any 
one  man ;  and  therefore  it  is  not 
to  be  wondered  at,  if,  in  regard  to 
some,  he  appears  very  inaccurate, 
in  some  very  superficial,  and,  in 
others,  very  inadequate  to  the 
task  he  had  undertaken.  By  his 
works  in  the  philosophical  way 
he  seemed  most  likely  to  have 
purchased  future  fame,  had  he  al- 
lowed himself  time  to  have  digest- 
ed the  knowledge  he  was  possessed 
of,  or  adhered   to  that  precision 


H  I  L 

with  'egard  to  veracity  which  the 
relation  of  literary  facts  so  rigidly 
demands.  His  novels,  of  which 
he  has  written  many,  such  as  The 
History  of  Ah-.  Loveill  (in  which 
he  had  endeavoured  to  persuade 
the  world  he  had  given  the  de- 
tail of  his  own  life),  The  Adven- 
tures of  a  Creole,  The  Life  of  Lady 
Frail,  &c.  have,  in  some  parts  of 
them,  incidents  not  disagreeably 
related  ;  but  the  most  of  them  are 
no  more  than  narratives  of  private 
intrigues,  containing,  throughout, 
the  grossest  calumnies,  and  aiming 
at  the  blackening  and  undermin- 
ing the  private  characters  of  many 
respectable  and  amiable  person- 
ages. In  his  essays,  which  are  by 
much  the  best  of  his  writings,  there 
is,  in  general,  a  liveliness  of  ima- 
gination, and  a  prettiness  in  the 
manner  of  extending  perhaps  some 
very  trivial  thought ;  which,  at 
the  first  eoup-d'ceil,  is  pleasing 
enough,  and  may,  with  many,  be 
mistaken  for  wit ;  but,  on  a  nearer 
examination,  the  imagined  sterling 
will  be  found  to  dwindle  down 
into  mere  French  plate.  A  con- 
tinued use  of  smart  short  periods, 
bold  assertions,  and  a  routine  of 
egotisms,  for  the  most  part  give  a 
glitter  to  them,  which,  however, 
presently  sullies  to  the  eye,  and 
seldom  tempts  the  spectator  to  a 
second  glance.  In  a  word,  the 
utmost  that  can  be  said  of  Dr.  Hill 
is,  that  he  had  talents,  but  that 
he,  in  general,  either  greatly  mis- 
applied them,  or  most  miserably 
hacknied  them  out. 

As  a  dramatic  writer  he  stands 
in  no  estimation,  nor  has  been 
known  in  that  view  by  any  thing 
but  three  very  insignificant  little 
pieces,  one  of  which  we  have  men- 
tioned above.     Their  titles  are: 

1,   Orpheus.    O.  fol.  1/40. 


3-1 S 
HIP  HIT 

2.  The  Maiden  Whim  ;  or,  The  arid  abigails.     Fie  had  also  a  son, 
Critic:,'  Minute.  F.   1/5(3.  N.  P.  who  died  in  the  situation  of governor 

3.  The  Rout.     F.  Svo.  1/58.  of  a  fort  in  Africa :   he  was  a  man 
Hill,  Richakd.     We  suspect  of  letters,  and  wrote  several  very 

this   name  to  be  a  fictitious  one,  sensible  pamphlets.  Old  Mr.  Hip- 

and  intended  to  be  imposed  on  the  pisley   atone  time   intended  him 

public  for  the  author  of  several  for  the  stage,  and  he  actually  per- 

pieces  against  the  celebrated  John  formed  Tom  Thumb.     Speaking 

Wesley.     It  stands,  however,  be-  to  Quin  on   this  subject,  he  was 

fore  one  drama,  entitled  told    by   the   cynic,    that    if  the 

The  Gospel  Shop.    Com.     Svo.  young  gentleman  was  designed  for 

1778.  the   theatre,  it  was  high   time  to 

Hiltox,  William,  a  resident,  burn   him    (i.  e.   in  order  to  give 

we  believe,    of  Newcastle  upon  him  some  resemblar.ee  to  his  fa- 


Tyne,  where  he  published,  by 
subscription,  two  volumes  of  his 
poetical  works,  which  contained, 

1.  Arthur.     T.    Svo.   J  7/0. 

2.  Siege  of  Palmyra.  T.  Svo. 
1770- 

Hippislev,  John,  a  comic 
actor  of  considerable  merit,  whose 
performance  on  the  stage  was  much 
heightened  by  a  distortion  of  his 
face,  occasioned  by  an  accidental 
bum  in  his  youth.  His  situation 
in  the  theatre  was  at  first  very 
low,  being  no  more  than  a  candle- 
snuffer  ;  but  on  the  death  of 
Pinkethman  he  succeeded  to  all 
his  characters,  and  was  received  in 
them  by  the  public  with  great  ap- 
plause. He  built  a  theatre  at 
Bristol,  and  had  another  in  some 
forwardness  at  Bath  when  he  died. 
At  one  period  of  his  life,  he  kept 
a  coffee-house  somewhere  near 
Covent  Garden,  and  died  at  Bristol, 
the  12th  of  February  1748.  He 
wrote, 

1.  A  Journey  to  Bristol;  ox,  The 
Honest  Welshman.  F.  Svo.  [1731.] 
And  altered  Cibber's  Hob,  under 
the  title  of, 

2.  Fl&ra.     Op.  Svo.    1J30. 

3.  Secjitel  to  Flora.    Svo.   1/32. 

Mr.  Hippislev  had  two  daugh- 
ters, both  actresses;  and  one  of 
them,  Mrs.. Green,  was  excellent 


ther).  Hippislev  s  "  Drunken 
'•  Man"  is  a  piece  of  humour 
which  is  still  occasionally  delivered 
on  the  stage. 

Hitchcock,  Robert,  was  for- 
merly an  actor  on  the  York  stage, 
and  afterwards  prompter  at  the 
Haymarket,  in  the  late  Mr.  Col- 
man's  time  ;  where  his  daughter 
made  her  first  appearance  in  The 
Silver  Tankard,  17SI  ;  after  which 
he  became  prompter  in  Dublin, and  . 
his  wife  and  daughter  great  fa- 
vourites on  the  Irish  stage.  The 
latter  retired,  in  consequence  of 
her  marriage  with  a  gentleman, 
now  an  eminent  barrister  in  Dub- 
lin ;  but  her  mother,  we  believe, 
still  retains  her  situation  as  an 
actress.  Mr.  Hitchcock,  while  iti 
Dublin,  wrote  A  History  of  the 
Irish  Stage,  2  vols.  12mo.  1794. 
He  had  a  son,  who  was  bred  in 
the  university  of  Dublin,  and  is 
now  at  the  Irish  bar.  Mr.  Hitch- 
cock was  the  author  of  two  plays, 
called, 

1.  The  Macaroni.  C.  Svo.  1773. 

2.  The  Coquette  3  or,  The  Mis- 
takes of  the  Heart.  C.Svo.  1777. 
and  died  in  Clarendon  Street, 
Dublin,  toward  the  latter  end  of 
the  year  ISOf).  His  abilities  as  an 
actor  were  very  moderate  ;  but  he 
bore,  universally,  the  character  of 


in  the  characters  of  ancient  ladies    an  honest,  worthy,  sensible  man. 


349 


H  O  A 

.  Hitchexer,  W.  H.    A  person 
of  this  name  is  author  of 

Ivor.     Tr.  Svo.   1808. 

Hoadly,   Dr.  Benjamin,  el- 
dest son  of  the  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester, was  born  Feb.  10,  1JO5-0, 
in  Broad  Street  3  educated,  as  was 
his  younger  brother,  at  Dr.  New- 
come's,  at  Hackney,  and  Corpus 
Christi  College,  Cambridge ;   be- 
ing admitted  pensioner,  April  8, 
1/22,    under   the    worthy   Arch- 
bishop Herring,  then  tutor  there. 
Here  he  took  a  degree  in  physic, 
in  1 72/  ;  and,  particularly  apply- 
ing to  mathematical  and  philoso- 
phical   studies,    was   well  known 
(along  with  the  learned  and  in- 
genious Drs.  David  Hartley   and 
Davies,  both  afterwards  of  Bath, 
who  with  him  composed  the  whole 
class)   to  make  a  greater  progress, 
under  the  blind  professor  Saunder- 
son,    than  any  young  gentleman 
then  in  the  university.    When  His 
late  Majesty  was  at  Cambridge,  in 
April  1728,  he  was  upon  the  list 
of  gentlemen  to  be  created  doctors 
of  physic ;   but,  either  by  chance 
or  management,  his  name  was  not 
found  in  the  last  list j  and  he  had 
not  his  degree  of  M.D.  till  about 
a  month  after,  by  a  particular  man- 
damus.    Through  this  transaction 
it  appeared  that  Dr.  Snape  had  not 
forgotten  nor  forgiven  the  name  of 
Hoadly ;  for  he  not  only  behaved 
to  him  with  great  ill-manners,  but 
obstructed  him  in   it  as  much  as 
lay  in  his  power.     He  was  F.R.  S. 
very  young,  and   had  the  honour 
of  being  made  known  to  the  learn- 
ed world  as  a  philosopher,  by  A 
Letter  from  the  Reverend  Dr.  Sa- 
muel Clarke  to  Mr.  Benjamin  Hoad- 
ly, F.  R.  S.  occasioned  ly  the  pre- 
sent Controversy  amo?ig  Mathema- 
ticians concerning  the  Proportion  of 
Velocity   and  Force   in    Bodies  in 
Motion.     He  was  made  registrar 


H  O  A 

of  Hereford  while  his  father  filled 
that  see  ;  and  was  appointed  phy- 
siLian  to  His  Majesty's  household 
so  early  as  June  Q,   1742.     It  is 
remarkable,  that  he  was  for  some 
years  physician  to  both  the  house- 
holds together}  having  been  ap- 
pointed  to  that  of  the  Prince  of 
Wales,    Jan.  4,    \/45-6,    in   the 
place  of  Dr.  Lamotte,  a  Scotch- 
man with  a  French  name  (whom 
the  Prince  had  himself  ordered  to 
be  struck  out  of  the  list,  on  his  im- 
prudent behaviour  at  the  Smyrna 
Coffee-house,  at  the  time  of  the 
rebellion,  1/45)  ;  and  with  parti- 
cular circumstances  much  to  his 
honour :   the  Prince  himself,  before 
the  warrant  could  be  finished,  or- 
dering the  style  to  be  altered ;  and 
that  he  should  be  called  physician 
to  the  household,  and  not  in  extra- 
ordinary, as  the  other  had  been  : 
observing,  that  this  would  secure 
that  place  to  him  in  case  of  a  de- 
mise, and  be  a  bar  against  any  one 
getting  over  him.     Nay,  not  con- 
tent with  this,  his  Royal  Highness 
voluntarily  wrote  a  letter  to  the 
Bishop  with  his  own  hand — "  that 
"  he  was  glad  of  this  opportunity 
"  of  giving   him  a  token  of  his 
"  gratitude  for  his  services  formerly 
"  to  his  family ;  and  that  he  was 
"  his  affectionate  Frederick,  P." 
— This,  being  at  a  time  when  the 
families  were  not  upon  the  best 
terms,  is  a  proof  that  Dr.  Hoadly 
was  a  most  unexceptionable  man. 
He  was  said  to  have  filled  the  posts 
with  singular  honour.    He  married, 
1.  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Henry 
Betts,  Esq    of  Suffolk,  counsellor 
at  law,  by  whom  he  had  one  son, 
Benjamin,  who  died  an  infant.    2. 
Ann,  daughter  and  coheiress  of  the 
Honourable    General  Armstrong, 
by  whom  he  left  no  issue.     He 
died  in  the  lifetime  of  his  father, 
August  10,   1757 j  at  his  house  at 


J50 


HOA 

Chelsea,  afterwards  Sir  Richard 
Glyn's,  which  he  had  built  ten  years 
before.  He  published,  1.  Three 
Letters  on  the  Organs  of  Respira- 
tion, read  at  the  Royal  College  of 
Physicians,  London,  A.  D.  1/3/, 
being  the  Gulslonian  Lectures  for 
that  Year.  To  which  is  added  an 
Appendix,  containing  Remarks  on 
some  Experiments  of  Dr.  Houston, 
published  in  the  Transactions  of  the 
Royal  Society  for  the  Year  1 736, 
ly  Benjamin  Houd'y,  M.  D.  Fellow 
of  the  College  of  Physicians,  and  of 
the  Royal  Society,  London,  1/40, 
4to.  2.  Oralio  Anniversaria  in 
Theatro  Coll.  Medicor.  Londinen- 
sium,  ex  Harveii  Instituto  habita, 
die  18°  Oct.  A.D.  1742,  a  Benj. 
Hoadly,  M.D.  Coll.  Med.  et  S.R.S. 
1742,  esteemed  a  very  elegant 
piece  of  Latin.  3.  The  Suspicious 
Husband,  a  comedy.  4.  Obser- 
vations on  a  Series  of  Electrical 
Experiments.  By  Dr.  Hoadly  and 
Mr.  Wilson,  F.  R.  S.   4to.  1756. 

The  Doctor  was,  in  his  private 
character,  an  amiable  humane  man, 
and  an  agreeable  sprightly  com- 
panion. In  his  profession  he  was 
learned  and  judicious ;  and,  as  a 
writer,  there  needs  no  further  testi- 
mony to  be  borne  to  his  merit, 
than  the  very  pleasing  comedy  he 
has  left  behind  him,  which,  when- 
ever represented,  continually  af- 
fords fresh  pleasure  to  the  audi- 
ence. We  scarce  have  need  to 
•mention  to  any  one,  the  least  con- 
versant with  theatrical  affairs,  that 
we  mean 

The  Suspicious  Husband.  Com. 
8vo.  1747. 

He  also  left  behind  him,  in  ma- 
nuscript, 

The  Tatlers.     C.     Acted  1797. 

Hoadly,  Dr.  John.  This  gen- 
tleman was  the  youngest  son  of 
Dr.  Benjamin  Hoadly,  Bishop  of 
Winchester.      He   was    born    in 


HOA 


Broad  Street,  October  S,  1 "  1 1 ,  and 
educated  at  Mr.Newcome's  school 
in  Hackney,  where  he  got  great 
applause  by  performing  the  part 
of  Phocyas  in  The  Siege  of  Damas- 
cus. In  June  1730,  he  was  ad- 
mitted at  Corpus  Christj  College, 
in  Cambridge,  and  about  the  same 
time  at  the  Temple,  intending  to 
study  the  law.  This  design,  how- 
ever, he  soon  abandoned  ;  for  in 
the  next  year  we  find  he  had  re- 
linquished all  thoughts  of  the  law 
as  a  profession.  He  took  the  de- 
gree of  LL.  B.  in  1/35,  and,  on 
the  29th  of  November  following, 
was  appointed  chancellor  of  Win- 
chester, ordained  deacon  by  his 
father  Dec.  7 >  ar>d  priest  the  21st 
of  the  same  month.  He  was  im- 
mediately received  into  the  Prince 
of  Wales's  household  as  his-chap- 
lain,ashe  afterwards  was  into  that 
of  the  Princess  Dowager,  May  6, 
1751. 

His  several  preferments  he  re- 
ceived in  the  following  order  of 
time :  The  rectory  of  Michel- 
mersh,  March  8,  1737;  that  of 
Wroughton,  in  Wiltshire,  Sept.  8, 
1  737  ;  and  that  of  Alresford,  and 
a  prebend  of  Winchester,  29th  of 
November  in  the  same  year.  On 
June  9,  1743,  he  was  instituted 
to  the  rectory  of  St.  Mary,  near 
Southampton ;  and,  on  Dec.  \Q, 
1746,  collated  to  that  of  Overton. 
He  had  the  honour  to  be  the  first 
person  on  whom  Archbishop  Her- 
ring conferred  the  degree  of  a 
doctor.  In  May  1760,  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  mastership  of  St. 
Cross  j  and  all  these  preferments 
he  enjoyed  until  his  death,  except 
the  living  of  Wroughton  and  the 
prebend  of  Winchester.  He  wrote 
some  poems  in  Dodsley's  Collec- 
tion, and  is  supposed  to  have  very 
materially  assisted  his  brother  in 
The  Suspicious  Husband.   He  like- 


351 


H  O  A 

wise  published  an  edition  of  his 
father's  works,  in  3  vols,  folio. 
After  living  to  the  age  of  sixty- 
four,  the  delight  of  his  friends,  he 
died  March  Id,-  1770;  and  with 
him  the  name  of  Hoadly  became 
extinct. 

He  was  the  author  of, 

1.  The  Contrast.     Play.     1731. 
N.P. 

2.  Jephtha.     Orat.     Svo.  173/. 

3.  Loves  Revenge.  D.  P.  4to. 
1737. 

4.  The  Force  of  Truth.  Orat. 
1744. 

5.  Phcele.     P.O.     8vo.  1748. 
He  also  revised  Lillo's  Arden  of 

Feversham  ;  and  wrote  the  fifth 
act  of  Miller's  Mahomet. 

He  left  several  dramatic  works 
in  manuscript  behind  him  ;  and, 
among  the  rest,  The  House-keeper, 
a  farce,  on  the  plan  of  High  Life 
beloiv  Stairs,  in  favour  of  which 
piece  it  was  rejected  by  Mr.  Gar- 
rick  ;  together  with  a  tragedy  on 
a  religious  subject.  So  great,  how- 
ever, was  the  Doctor's  fondness  for 
theatrical  exhibitions,  that  no  visi- 
tors were  ever  long  in  his  house 
before  they  were  solicited  To  accept 
a  part  in  some  interlude  or  other. 
He  himself,  with  Garrick  and 
Hogarth,  once  performed  a  laugh- 
able parody  on  the  scene  in  Julius 
Ccesar,  where  the  Ghost  appears 
to  Brutus.  Hogarth  personated 
the  spectre ;  but  so  unretentive 
was  his  memory,  that,  although 
his  speech  consisted  only  of  a  few 
lines,  he  was  unable  to  get  them 
by  heart.  At  last  they  hit  on  the 
following  expedient  in  his  favour  : 
The  verses  he  was  to  deliver  were 
written  in  such  large  letters  on  the 
outside  of  an  illuminated  paper 
lantern,  that  he  could  read  them 
when  he  entered  with  it  in  his 
hand  on  the  stage.  Hogarth  pre- 
pared the  play-bill  on  this  occa- 


H  O  A 

sion  with  characteristic  ornaments. 
The  original  drawing  is  still  pre- 
served, and  we  could  wish  it  were 
engraved ;  as  the  slightest  sketch 
from  the  design  of  so  grotesque  a 
painter  would  be  welcome  to  the 
collectors  of  his  works. 

The  tragedy  was  on  the  story 
of  Lord  Cromwell,  and  its  author 
designed  to  give  it  to  the  stage. 
In  a  letter,  dated  August  1,  ljd5, 
he  thus  apologizes  to  a  friend  to 
whom  he  intended  to  present  the 
copy  :  "  Your  kind  concern,  &c. 
"  demanded  an  earlier  acknow- 
"  ledgment,  had  I  not  delayed  till 
'*  an  absolute  answer  came  t'rwn 
"  my  friend  David  Garrick,  with 
"  his  fixed  resolution  never  more 
"  to  strut  and  fret  his  hour  upon 
"  the  stage  again.  This  decree  has, 
"  unhinged  my  schemes  with  re- 
"  gard  to  Lord  Cromwell;  for  no- 
"  thing  but  the  concurrence  of  so 
"  many  circumstances  in  my  favour 
"  (his  entire  disinterested  friend- 
"  ship  for  me  and  the  good  Doctor's 
"  memory  ;  Mrs.  Hoadly's  bring- 
"  ing  on  a  piece  of  the  Doctor's 
"  at  the  same  time  ;  the  story  of 
"  mine  being  on  a  religious  sub- 
"  ject,  &c. ;  and  the  peculiar  ad- 
"  vantage  of  David's  unparalleled 
"  performance  in  it)  could  have 
"  persuaded  me  to  break  through 
"  the  prudery  of  my  profession, 
"  and  (in  my  station  in  the  church) 
"  produce  a  play  upon  the  stage." 

Hoake,  Prince,  was  born  at 
Bath,  where  his  father,  Mr.  Wil- 
liam Hoare,  was  a  painter  of  con- 
siderable eminence.  Our  author 
was  placed  early  under  the  tuition 
of  Mr.  Hele,  first  master  of  the 
grammar-school  at  Bath  ;  and, 
during  the  intervals  of  school  hours, 
was  instructed  by  his  father  in 
painting,  in  which  he  made  a  con- 
siderable progress.  At  seventeen 
he  was  sent  to  London,  and  be- 


352 


H  O  A 

came  a  student  of  the  Royal  Aca- 
demy, where  he  manifested  his 
attachment  to  the  aits,  by  devoting 
more  than  the  regular  time  to 
labour,  and  not  unfrequently  work- 
ing the  whole  day  without  inter- 
mission. According  to  the  practice 
of  other  artists,  Mr.  H.  commenced 
his  travels  in  177^  i  and,  after  an 
absence  of  four  years,  returned  to 
England,  and  settled  in  London. 
He  continued  in  his  profession  with 
considerable  success,  painting  por- 
traits and  historical  subjects  ;  but 
an  ill  state  of  health  obliged  him 
suddenly  to  decline  it,  and  with- 
draw to  the  sea-coast  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  air.  He  now,  for  amuse- 
ment, attempted  dramatic  writing; 
and  while  on  his  way  to  Lisbon, 
which  voyage  was  recommended 
to  him  for  the  recovery  of  his 
health,  he  presented  the  first  off- 
spring of  his  Muse  (Such  Things 
Were,  a  tragedy)  to  the  managers 
of  the  Bath  theatre,  and  at  Lisbon 
had  the  gratification  to  hear  of  its 
success.  He  returned  to  England 
in  June  1 788,  having  derived  much 
benefit  from  his  excursion ;  and, 
by  the  persuasions  of  Mr.  Storace, 
who  then  was  eminent  as  a  com- 
poser, and  flattered  by  the  reception 
of  his  first  play,  he  applied  his 
mind  entirely  to  dramatic  compo- 
sition. But  finding  the  managers 
of  London  less  compliant  than  the 
managers  of  Bath,  he  was  obliged 
at  first  to  bring  out  his  pieces  for 
benefits,  and  consequently  forego 
the  customary  emolument.  Their 
success  soon  induced  the  managers 
to  accept  what  they  had  before  re- 
jected ;  and  having  thus  established 
his  fame,  he  finds  no  difficulty  now 
in  procuring  access  to  the  stage. 
His  dramatic  writings  are, 

I.  Such  Things  Were.  T.  1/88. 
N.  P. 


HOD 

2.  No  Song,  No  Supper.  Mus. 
F.     1790.     N.P. 

3.  The  Cave  of  Trophonius.    M 

E.    1791.     N.  P. 

4.  Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage.  O. 
Svo.  1792. 

5.  Prize.    M.  E.    1JQ3.    N.  P. 

0.  My  Grandmother.  M.  F. 
1/93.     N.  P. 

7.  The  Three  and  the  Deuce! 
M.  CD.   1/95.     Svo.  1S06. 

S.  Lock  and  Key.  M.  E.  Svo. 
1796. 

9.  Mahmoud.  Op.  1790.  N.  P. 

10.  Julia.  T.  1796.  See  Such 
Tilings  Were. 

11.  A  Friend  in  Need.  M.  E. 
1797-    N.  P. 

J  2.  Italian  Villagers.  C.  Op. 
1797.     N.  P. 

13.  Sighs.    C.     8vo.  1799. 

14.  Children;  or,  Give  them  their 
Way.     Com.  Dr.     1800.     N.P. 

15.  Indiscretion.  C.    Svo.  1800. 

16.  Chains  of  the  Heart.  Op. 
Svo.  1S02. 

17.  Paragraph.  M.  E.  Svo. 
1804. 

18.  Partners.  C.   1S05.    N.P. 

19.  Something  to  do.  C.  1808. 
N.  P. 

To  Mr.  Hoare  is  also  ascribed, 

20.  The  Captive  of  Spilslurg. 
M.  E.     8vc.  1799. 

Hodson,  William.  This  gen- 
tleman was  a  native  of  Cam- 
bridge ;  admitted  of  Trinity  Col- 
lege in  176O;  took  the  degree  of  B. 
A.  1764,  commenced  M.A.  1767, 
and  in  1 770  obtained  Mr.  Seaton's 
prize.  He  was  likewise  author  of 
two  plays,  a:,d  a  firce,  called, 

1.  Arsaces.     T.     8vo.  1775. 

2.  Zoraida.     T.     Svo.  17S0. 

3.  Adventures  of  a  Night.  F. 
Svo.  1783. 

He  expired,  suddenly,  in  the  house 
of  theRev.  Mr. Borlace,  in  Emanuel 
Lane,  Cambridge,  Oct.  6,  1/93  ; 


353 


HOI, 

and  was  at  the  time  of  his  death 
vice-master  of  Trinity  College,  and 
vicar  of  Hitchin,  Herts,  to  which 
he  had  succeeded  in  l/SS. 

Hokek,  John,  was  first  demy 
or  semi-commoner,  afterwards  fel- 


H  O  L 

tioiij  in  his  father's  trade  of  a  shoe- 
maker. 

About  the  period  of  life  above 
alluded  to.,  Mr.  Holcroft  conceived 
a  passion  for  the  stage,  and  offer- 
ed his  services  at  the  same  time  to 


low  of  St.  Mary  Magdalen  College,  Mr.  Charles  Macklin  and  Mr.  Sa- 
Oxford,and,inl535,  masterofarts,  muel  Foote.  Foote  encouraged 
being  then  accounted  excellently     him ;   but  Macklin  talked  to  him 


well  read  in  Greek  and  Latin  au- 
thors, a  good  rhetorician  and  poet, 
and  much  commended  for  his 
fancy.  He  was  living  in  Mag- 
dalen College  in  1543,  being  then 


in  so  specious  a  style,  and  held  out 
to  him  so  many  temptations  and 
prospects,  which  were  never  real- 
ized, that  he  was  induced  to  de- 
cide for  Macklin  and  Ireland ;  a 


bachelor  of  divinity  of  three  years     decision  which  he  continued  long 
standing,  and  died,   we  may  con-     to  repent. 


jecture,  very  shortly  after.  Among 
other  things,  he  wrote 

Piscator  ;  or,  The  Fisher  caught. 
Com.    N.  P. 


In  the  profession  of  a  player 
Mr.  Holcroft  continued,  not  with 
the  most  flattering  success,  till 
after  the   production   of  his  play 


Holcroft,  Thomas,  was  born  of    Duplicity,    in    1/81.      I  mine - 

in  Orange  Court,  Leicester  Fields,  diately  on  the   exhibition  of  this 

December  22,   1J44.     His  father  comedy,    he   withdrew    from   the 

was  a  shoemaker ;    a  calling  for  stage  as  an  actor,  and  for  several 

which  his   son  always  retained  a  years  devoted  his  attention  princi- 

peculiar  respect.     The  former  was  pally  to  dramatic  composition.   His 

of  an   unsettled    temper,    seldom  writings  of  this  kind  are  as  follow  : 


dwelling  long  in  one  place;  and 
the  son  accompanied  him  in  all  his 
peregrinations.  When  Mr.  Hol- 
croft was  in  his  teens,  he  was  a 
servant  to  the  H»>n.  Mr.  Vernon  ; 
his  chief  employment  was  to  ride 
his  master's  race-horses,  which 
were  in  training  to  run  at  New- 
market, and  he  was  afterwards 
much  devoted  to  the  art  of  horse- 
manship. He  was  also  consider- 
ably attached  to  the  study  of  music; 
and  some  time  after  applied  much 
of  his  attention  to  connoisseurship 
in  painting.  Mr.  Holcroft  had  an 
active  mind,  and  was  no  sooner 
aware  of  any  path  that  led  to  im- 
provement and  excellence,  than  he 
was  anxious  to  enter  that  path. 
Notwithstanding  this,  he  perse- 
vered to  the  age  of  twenty-five 
years,  with   some   little  interrup- 

VOL.   I. 


1.  The  Crisis,  CO.  1778.  N.P. 

2.  Duplicity.     C.     8vo.  1781. 

3.  Nolle  Peasant.     CO.     8vo. 
1/84. 

4.  Follies  of  a  Day.     C     8vo. 
17S4. 

5.  The  Choleric  Fathers.     CO. 
Svo. 1785. 

6.  Death  of  Adam.    S.  D.    Svo. 
178(3. 

7.  Hagar  in  the  Wilderness.  S.D. 
8vo.  17S6. 

8.  Joseph,    made   known    to    his 
Brethren.      S.  D.     Svo.  1786. 

9.  Return  of  Tobias.  S.  D.  Svo. 
17SG. 

10.  Ruth   and    Naomi.       S.  D. 
Svo.  J  786. 

11.  Sacrifce   of  Isaac.      S.D, 
Svo.  1786. 

12.  JVido7u  of  Sarepta.     S.  D. 
Svo.  1/8(3. 

A  A 


354 


HOL 

13.  Seduction.    C.     Svo.  178;. 

14.  Louis  in  the  Elysian  Fields. 
D.     8vo.  J789. 

15.  The  School  of  the  World. 
Cora,  trans.     Svo.  17&9- 

10'.  Tantalus  at  Law.  Com. 
trans.     Svo.  17S9. 

17.  School  for  Arrogance.  C. 
tvo.  179?. 

18.  Road  to  Ruin.  C.  Svo. 
1792. 

19.  Love's  Frailties.  C.  8vo. 
1794. 

20.  Rival  Queens.  Prel.  1794. 
N.  P. 

21.  Deserted  Daughter.  C.  Svo. 

1795. 

22.  Man  of  Ten  Thousand.  C. 
Svo.  1796. 

23.  Force  of  Ridicule.  C.  1796. 
N.  P. 

24.  Knave  or  Not.  C.  Svo. 
1798. 

25.  Deaf  and  Dumb.  H.  D. 
Svo.  1S01.  [Under  the  name  of 
Herbert  Hill.] 

26.  Tale  of  Mystery.  Mel.  Dr. 
8vo.   1802. 

27.  Hear  loth  Sides.  C.  Svo. 
1S03. 

28.  The  Two  Friends.  Dr.  Prov. 
4to.  1S04. 

29.  The  Play  is  over.  D.  Prov. 
4to.  1S04. 

30.  Lady  of  the  Rock.  Mel.  Dr. 
Svo.  1805. 

31.  Vindictive  Man.  C.  Svo. 
1S06. 

The  following  have  likewise 
been  ascribed  to  his  pen  : 

The  German  Hotel.  C.  8vo. 
1790.  [Under  the  name  of  Mar- 
shall] 

The  Inquisitor.     P.     Svo.  1798. 

He's  much  to  blame.  C.  8vo. 
1798. 

See,  besides,  Theatrical  Re- 
corder, in  Vol.  III. 

Mr.  Holcroft  also  exercised  his 
talents,  with  advantage  to  his  re- 
4 


HOL 

putation,  itt  the  novels  of  Ahvyn, 
printed  in  178O;  Anna  St.  Ives, 
1792;  and  Hugh  Trevor,  1794.  He 
likewise  launched  a  fourth  novel, 
entitled  Brian  Perdue,  in  the  year 
I8O7.  The  public  are  further  in- 
debted to  the  pen  of  Mr. Holcroft  for 
many  translations  ;  among  others, 

1.  The  private  Life  of  Voltaire, 
1 2 mo.  2 .  Mem cirs  qj  Baron  Trench, 
3  vols.  12mo.  3.  The  Secret  His- 
tory of  the  Court  of  Berlin,  ly  the 
Count  de  Miraleau,  2  vols.  Svo. 
4.  Tales  of  the  Castle,  ly  Madame 
de  Genlis,  5  vols.  12mo.  5.  The 
posthumous  Works  of  Frederick  II. 
King  °f  Prussia,  13  vols.  Svo. 
6.  An  abridged  Display  of  the  Phy- 
siognomy of  Lavater,  3  large  vols. 
Svo. 

The  great  action  of  the  life  of 
Air.  Holcroft  was,  undoubtedly, 
his  voluntary  surrender  to  the  in- 
dictment for  high  treason,  pre- 
ferred against  him  in  the  autumn 
of  1794-  Few  persons  can  now 
doubt,  that  if  the  Administration 
had  succeeded  at  that  time  in 
bringing  to  capital  punishment 
the  twelve  persons  (many  of  them, 
not  personally  known  to  each 
other)  who  were  included  in  one 
indictment,  the  constitution  and 
liberties  of  England  would  have 
been  endangered,  if  not  destroyed ; 
and  as  few  persons  will  refuse  to 
confess,  that  the  voluntary  sur- 
render of  one  of  the  parties,  after 
the  Grand  Jury  had  decided  that 
they  should  be  tried  for  their  lives_, 
was  a  great  and  impressive  demon- 
stration of  conscious  innocence. 
After  three  of  them  had  been  tried 
and  acquitted,  our  author  and  the 
other  eight  were  discharged  with- 
out being  put  upon  their  trial. 

Mr.  Holcroft  spent  the  principal 
part  of  the  years  1 799,  1S00,  and 
1801,  in  Germany  and  France; 
and  the  observations  collected  by 


355 


H  O  L 

him,  in  his  travels,  were  after- 
wards published  in  2  vols.  4to. 

Holjjen,  Mk.  In  Downes's 
Rosch/s  Anglicanus,  p.  2,6,  we  find 
there  was  an  author  in  the  reign 
of  Charles  If.  of  this  name.  He 
is  mentioned  as  the  writer  of  one 
piece,  which  probably  was  never 
printed,  entitled 

The  Ghr.sts.  Ac!ed  between 
.  )5,  by  the  Duke's 
company. 

HoLrcRD,  Mr.  A  gentleman 
of  Lincoln's  Inn,  of  this  name, 
wrote, 

1.  The  Cave  of  Neptune.  D.  P. 
Svo.  1799. 

2.  The  Storm.  D.  Svo.  1 799. 
which,  however,  were  published 
anonymously. 

Holfoiid,  Mrs.  M.  is  author 
of 

Neither  s   the  Man.     C.     Svo. 

1799- 

This  lady  has  besides  written 
Fanny,  Selima,  Gresford  Vale,  &c. 
&c. ;  but  this  is  all  that  we  are 
able  to  learn  of  her. 

Holiday,  Dr.  Barten.  This 
gentleman  was  son  of  one  Thomas 
Holiday,  a  taylor,  and  was  born 
in  the  parish  of  All  Saints,  in  the 
city  of  Oxford,  about  the  latter 
end  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign. 
He  was  very  early  entered  of 
Christchurch,  in  the  university  of 
Oxford,  during  the  time  of  Dr. 
Ravis,  who  was  not  only  his  pa- 
tron, but  a  relation  also.  In  this 
college  he  took  his  degrees  of 
bachelor  and  master  of  arts,  and 
in  \6\5  entered  info  holy  orders; 
in  which  his  abilities  quickly  made 
him  be  taken  notice  of,  and  ren- 
dered him  a  very  popular  preacher. 
He  soon  after  obtained  two  good 
livings,  beth  of  them  in  Oxford- 
shire; and,  in  the  year  101S,  he 
went  as  chaplain  to  Sir  Francis 
Stewart,  when  he  accompanied,  to 


H  O  L 

his  own  country,  the  famous  Count 
Gondemar,  who  had  been  many 
years  ambassador  from  the  court 
of  Spain  to  that  of  England.  In 
this  journey,  his  facetious  and 
agreeable  manner  greatly  ingra- 
tiated him  in  the  favour  of  Count 
Gondemar. 

Soon  after  his  return  he  was 
appointed,  by  King  Charles  the 
Fust,  one  of  his  chaplains;  and, 
before  1(52(3,  succeeded  Dr.  Bridges 
as  archdeacon  of  Oxford.  In  1642 
he  was,  by  virtue  of  the  King's 
letters,  created,  with  several  others, 
doctor  of  divinity.  And  now,  the 
rebellion  being  broken  out,  he 
sheltered  himself  near  Oxford; 
but  very  soon  began  to  give  proofs 
of  a  want  of  steadfastness,  which 
occasioned  him  the  blame  and  cen- 
sure of  many  of  his  ancient  friends 
among  the  clergy;  the  most  of 
whom  chose  rather  to  live  in  po- 
"  during  the  usurpation,  than 
by  a  mean  compliance  with  the 
times  to  betray  the  interests  of 
the  church,  and  the  cause  of  their 
unhappy  exiled  sovereign  :  f  >r, 
when  he  saw  the  royal  party  so  far 
declining,  that  their  cause  began 
to  appear  desperate,  he  thought  it 
the  most  for  his  own  interest  to 
temporize,  and  appear  to  join  in 
with  the  prevailing  power;  nay, 
on  Oliver  Cromwell's  being  raised 
to  the  protectorship,  he  even  so  far 
coincided  with  the  measures  then 
pursued,  as  to  submit  to  an  exa- 
mination by  the  triers,  in  order  to 
his  being  inducted  into  the  rectory 
of  Shilton  in  Berkshire,  which  had 
been  vacated  by  the  ejectment  of 
one  Thomas  Lawrence,  on  account 
of  his  being  non  compos  mentis. 
He  lived,  however,  to  see  the  re- 
storation of  King  Charles  II. ;  in 
consequence  of  which  event  the 
Doctor  threw  up  the  living  he  had 
held  under  the  Protector,  and  re-* 
a  a  2 


356 


II  O  L 

turned  to  Eifley  (or  Ifley)  near  Ox- 
ford, to  live  on  his  archdeaconry  j 
and  it  is  thought  that,  had  he  surviv- 
ed, his  poetry,  and  the  fame  of  his 
learning  and  abilities,  gave  him  so 
fair  a  chance  for  preferment,  that, 
notwithstanding  his  having  acted  a 
temporizing  part,  which  had  great- 
ly injured  him  with  the  royalists, 
it  was  probable  he  would  soon 
have  been  raised  to  a  bishopric,  or 
at  the  least  to  a  very  rich  deanery. 
But  the  irresistible  monarch  sum- 
moned him  away  from  the  village 
of  Eifley  on  the  2d  day  of  October 
l66l  ;  three  days  after  which  he 
was  interred  at  the  foot  of  Bishop 
King's  monument,  under  the  south 
wall  of  the  aisle,  joining  on  the 
south  side  to  the  choir  of  Christ- 
church  cathedral,  near  the  remains 
of  William  Cartwright  and  John 
Gregory. 

His  writings  are  very  numerous, 
both  in  the  classical  and  theologi- 
cal way  ;  but  he  has  only  left  one 
dramatic  piece  behind  him,  which 
is  entitled 

T^vo,yoc.jJUcx..  C.  4to.  l6l0. 
Wood  relates  an  anecdote  in  re- 
lation to  this  play,  which  has  some 
humour  in  it,  and  therefore  may 
not  prove  unentertaining  to  our 
readers.  He  tells  us,  that  this 
piece  had  been  publicly  acted  in 
Christchurch  Hall,  in  the  year 
[i.  e.  Feb.  13]  1617,  and  with  no 
very  great  applause  5  but  that  the 
wits  of  those  times,  being  willing 
to  distinguish  themselves  before 
the  King,  were  resolved,  with 
leave,  to  act  the  same  comedy  at 
Woodstock.  Permission  being  ob- 
tained, it  was  accordingly  acted 
on  Sunday  evening,  Aug.  26,  1621. 
But,  whether  it  was  too  grave  for 
His  Majesty  and  too  scholastic  for 
the  audience,  or  whether,  as  some 
said,  the  actors  had  taken  too  much 
wine  before  they  began,  in  order 


H  O  L 
to  remove  their  timidity,  His  Ma- 
jesty grew  so  tired  with  the  per- 
formance, that,  after  the  first  two 
acts  were  over,  he  several  times 
made  efforts  to  be  gone.  At 
length,  however,  being  persuaded 
by  those  who  were  about  him  to 
have  patience  till  it  was  over,  lest 
the  young  men  should  be  discou- 
raged by  so  apparent  a  slight 
shown  to  them,  he  did  sit  it  out, 
though  much  against  his  will ;  on 
which  the  following  smart  and  in- 
genious epigram  was  made  by  a 
certain  scholar  : 

"  At  Christchurch  Marriage,  done  before 

the  King, 
"  Lest   that  the  mates  should  want  an 

offering, 
"  The  King  himself  did  offer.     What,  I 

pray  ? 

"  He  offcr'd  nvicc  or  thrice — to  goatvay," 

"  'Tis  said  by  some  (says  Wood) 
"  that  he  was  author  of  a  comedy, 
"  called 

"  The  Gent/e  Craft; 
"  but  w  hether  true,  I  doubt  it." 

Holland,  Samuel.  Of  this 
author  it  is  only  known  that  he 
wrote  one  dramatic  piece  (printed 
in  a  book,  entitled  Wit  and  Fancy 
in  a  Maze  ;  or,  The  incom par al It- 
Champion  of  Love  and  Beautie  ;  a 
mock  Romance,  12mo.  1606  : 
also  in  a  book,  called  Romancio- 
Mastix ;  or,  A  Romance  on  Ro- 
mances ;   12mo.  1660),  called 

Venus  and  Adonis.     M. 

Holland,  W.  A.  Of  this 
person  we  know  no  more  than  that 

Augustus  and  Gidielmus.     Mel. 
Dr.  1S06.     N.  P. 
was  produced  under  his  name. 

Holman,  Joseph  George,  is 
descended  from  the  younger  bro- 
ther of  Sir  John  Holman,  of  Wark- 
worth  Castle,  Oxfordshire,  who 
was  created  a  baronet  by  Charles 
the  Second.  Sir  John  Holman 
died  without  male  issue ;  and,  if 


357 


HOL 

the  patent  could  be  granted  col- 
laterally, Mr.  Holman  has  a  claim 
to  the  title.    His  great-grandfather 
signalized  himself  in  Flanders,  un- 
der the  arms  of  the  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough,   and    was    killed   at   the 
battle  of   Duublain,  in    Scotland, 
at  the  time    of  the    rebellion    In 
1715,  leaving  an  infant  son.    The 
tender  years  of  the  child  exposed 
him  to  the  artifices  and  villany  of 
those   to  whom    the  care    of    his 
infancy    unfortunately    devolved. 
They  deprived  him  of  the  whole 
of  his   paternal  inheritance  j    and 
when,  at  a  mature  period,  he  put 
the  affair  into  litigation,  all  was 
lost  on  account  of  the  want  of  the 
register  of  his  father's  birth,  which 
was    consumed    in    a    fire    at   the 
Sardinian  ambassador's  chapel,  in 
which    place    he    was    baptized. 
Thus,  by  the  loss  of  a  small  but 
momentous  document,  an  heredi- 
tary property  of  some  thousands  a 
year  was  wholly  diverted  from  the 
rightful  claimants,  and  which  other- 
wise would  have  descended  to  the 
subject  of  our  present  notice.    Mr. 
Holman's  father  held  an  ensigncy 
and  adjutantcy  in  the  British  ser- 
vice ;   but  dying  when  his  son  was 
but  two  years   of  age,  the  latter 
became  the  care  of  his  uncle,  who 
placed  him,  at  a. proper   age,  in 
the    excellent   seminary   in    Soho 
Square,  then   under  the  manage- 
ment of  Dr.  Barwis,  but  now  con- 
ducted   by    Dr.    Barrow.      From 
having  been  engaged  in  the  annual 
theatrical  amusements  usual  at  the 
school    we    have   mentioned,    our 
author    imbibed    a    taste    for    the 
sock  and  buskin,  which  no  prospect 
of  academical  honours  at  the  uni- 
versity could   tempt  him  to  relin- 
quish.      From    Soho    school   Mr. 
Holman  went  to  Queen's  College, 
Oxford,  and  pursued    his    studies 
with  zeal  and  success.     The  am- 


H  O  L 
bitiou  of  theatrical  fame,  however, 
was  not  to  be  subdued ;  and,  on 
the  26th  of  October  178-I,  being 
then  twenty  years  of  age,  he  made 
his  first  public  appearance  at  Co- 
vent  Garden  theatre,   in  the  cha- 
racter  of    Romeo.      The    strong 
marks  of  genius,  the  traces  of  a 
cultivated   mind,  the  accuracy  of 
conception,    the   energy,  fervour,, 
and   sensibility,    which   evidently 
distinguished  his  performance,  ex- 
cited surprise  as  well  as  pleasure  in 
the  audience  ;    and  the  flattering 
applause  that  he  received  confirm- 
ed him  irrevocably  an  actor.     The 
manager,  who  was  eager  to  secure 
abilities    so  striking    at   such  an 
early  period,  offered  him  an  en- 
gagement worthy  of  his    talents, 
and  allotted  to  him  ample  oppor- 
tunities of  displaying  those  abilities 
in  the  most  advantageous  manner. 
Mr.  Holman,   however,  returned 
in  due  time,  and  kept  a  term  at 
Oxford  j  his  theatrical  efforts  not 
being   considered,  by  the    liberal 
spirit   of    those   who  presided    in 
that    university,     as    any    bar    to 
whatever   academical    distinctions 
he  might  be  desirous  of  obtain- 
ing.    The  business  of  the  theatre 
prevented  his  visiting  Oxford  again 
for  three  or  four  years  ;  and,  at 
his  return,   he   was  permitted    to 
wear  the  gown  of  a  civilian,  though 
he  had  not  kept  the  usual  num- 
ber of  terms — a  circumstance  that 
we  mention,  because,while  it  shows 
the  dignified   liberality  of  his  aca- 
demical superiors,  it  may  be  con- 
sidered as  an   honourable  tribute 
to    his  own    talents  and   personal 
worth.     Mr.  Holman  pronounced 
a   Latin  oration   on   the  occasion, 
which  evinced  his  grateful  respect 
for  the  university,  no  less  than  his 
classical  eloquence. 

At  the  end  of  the  third  season 
he  quitted  Covent  Garden,  in  cou- 
aa  3 


35S 

H  O  L 

sequence  of  some  difference  about 
an  increase  of  salary.  He  then 
visited  Dublin,  where  he  had  play- 
ed before  during  an  aftef-se'a'son ; 
and,  in  consequence  of  the  appro- 
bation he  then  met  with,  now 
made  advantageous  terms  with 
Mr.  Daly  for  the  winter  season. 
At  the  time  of  his  first  playiri 
the  Irish  stage,  Mr.  Henderson, 
Mr.  Pope,  Mr.  Kemble,  Mr.Aic  kin, 
&c.  were  also  engaged.  Having 
performed  at  Edinburgh,  Birming- 
ham, Liverpool,  Manchester,  &c. 
with  considerable  applause,  he  was 
re-engaged  by  Mr.  Harris,  and  re- 
sumed his  situation  at  Covent  Gar- 
den with  increased  approbation. 
In  the  season  of  1S00,  a  disagree- 
ment took  place  between  the  pro- 
prietors of  Covent  Garden,  and 
eight  of  their  principal  performers, 
viz.  Messrs.  Holman,  Johnstone, 
Fawcett,  Pope,  Knight,  H.John- 
ston, Munden, and Incledon ;  when 
a  statement  of  their  grievances  was 
signed  and  pnblished  by  the  above 
gentlemen.  The  ground  of  differ- 
ence rested  principally  upon  the 
proprietors  depriving  their  per- 
formers of  the  customary  orders 
of  admission — enlarging  the  fine 
of  5/.  for  refusing  a  character,  to 
30/, — and  raising  the  charge  of  a 
benefit  from  140/.  to  100/.  The 
proprietors  contended,  that  orders 
had  ever  been  held  as  a  gratuitous 
indulgence  j  and  that  they  had 
never  been  allowed  but  with  the 
special  leave  of  the  managers  : 
that  with  respect  to  the  fine  for 
refusing  characters,  much  disgust 
had  been  given  to  authors,  and 
much  injury  done  to  the  proi 
by  the  rejection  of  characters ;  and 
that  on  the  subject  of  increasing 
..mount  of  the  benefit-ch 
were  perfectly  authorized  in 
that  proceeding  by  the  increase  of 
the  nightly  expenses  of  the  thea- 


H  O  L 
trc ;  which  the  testimony  of  the 
urer,  proposed  to  be  substan- 
;  by  affidavit,  estimated  at 
more  than  100/.  The  performers 
fed  in  answer,  that  orders  had 
not  been  held  by  any  gratuitous 
indulgence,  but  by  an  established 
lege 3  for  which  they  referred 
Former  declaration  of  the  ma- 
it  the  advance  of  the  fine 
from  5l .  to  30/.  gave  to  the  ma- 
nagers the  power  of  depressing  and 
degrading  professional  talents,  and 
oi  extorting  from  the  first  actor  of 
the  theatre,  by  that  main  engine 
of  oppression,  the  whole  of  his 
salary  j  and  that  the  benefit-charge 
had  experienced  ah  advance,  in 
the  course  of  twenty  years  (for  it 
was  only  64/.  5s.  in  1JS0),  of  Qol. 
15s.  This  disagreement  was  left 
(by  mutual  consent)  to  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  for  decision.  His 
Lordship  wished  to  have  declined 
the  office  of  arbitrator ;  but  gave 
at  last  his  opinion  in  favour  of  the 
proprietors;  recommending,  at  the 
same  time,  an  amicable  adjustment 
and  oblivion  of  the  past.  The 
complaints,  of  course,  were  drop- 
1  ed  ;  and  the  performers  reinstated, 
except  Mr.  Holman,  who  either 
was  not  offered,  or  would  not  ac- 
cept of,  a  re-engagement.  Mr. 
Holman  having  now  quitted  a 
theatre  which  gave  birth  to  his 
talents,  performed  a  few  nights  at 
the  Haymarket ;  and  then  accept- 
ed of  an  engagement  for  the  en- 
suing winter  from  tl  e  manager  of 
the  Dublin  theatre,  who  proposed 
the  same  to  all  or  any  of  the  per- 
formers w  ho  might  leave  Covent 
Garden  in  consequence  of  the 
above  disagreement,  So  great  was 
Mr.  Holman's  suet  ;s  in  Dublin, 
that  he  purchased  a  hare  of  that 
theatre,  and  divided  the  manage- 
ment with  Mr.  Jones 5  but  such 
s    the  distracted   state   of 


059 


H  O  L 

kingdom  (the  actors  being,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  rebellion,  some- 
times obliged  to  perform  in  the 
day-time),  that  he  soon  after  re- 
linquished a  concern  which  had, 
in  better  times,  been  the  ruin  of 
many  excellent  performers.  He, 
however,  continued  acting-ma- 
nager, and  supported  the  principal 
characters  in  tragedy,  for  some 
time  after. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year 
J  79$>  Mr.  Holman  married  Jane, 
youngest  daughter  of  the  Hon.  and 
Rev.  Frederick  Hamilton,  son  of 
Lord  Archibald  Hamilton,  and 
grandson  of  the  Duke  of  Hamil- 
ton, who  bore  a  distinguished  part 
in  settling  the  union  between  Eng- 
land and  Scotland.  This  amiable 
and  accomplished  lady  died  June 
11,  1810. 

Of  Mr.  Holman's  theatrical  en- 
gagements at  present  we  have  no 
knowledge.  As  a  dramatic  writer, 
however,  he  has  distinguished  him- 
self by  the  following  pieces  ;  all  of 
which,  except  the  last  mention- 
ed, were  very  favourably  re- 
ceived : 

1 .  Abroad  and  at  Home.  C.  O. 
8vo.  1790. 

2.  Red  Cross  Knights.    P.  8vo. 

1799. 

3.  Votary  of  Wealth.     C.    8vo. 

1/99- 

4.  What  a  Blunder  I  CO.  8vo. 
1800. 

5.  Love  «ives  the  Alarm.  C. 
1804.     N.  P. 

Holt,  Francis  Ludlow.  This 
gentleman,  a  barrister,  wrote 

The  Land  we  live  in.  C.  8vo. 
1S05. 

Besides  which  he,  in  1810,  pub- 
lished The  La/v  and  Usage  of  Par- 
liament, in  Cases  of  Privilege  and 
Contempt ;  Icing  an  Attempt  to 
reduce  them  within  a  Then/  and 
System 'x  including  an  Argument  on 


H  O  M 

the  Right  of  the  Brea  h  of  outer 
Doors-,  in  the  Execution  of  their 
Process. 

Home,  John,  a  native  of  Scot- 
land, born  in  the  vicinity  of  An- 
crum,  in  Roxburghshire,  in  1724, 
being  intended  for  the  church,  re- 
ceived a  suitable  education,  and 
was  in  due.  time  ordained,  and  in- 
ducted to  the  living  of  Athelstane- 
ford  j  being  the  successor  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Blair,  author  of  The 
Grave,  a  very  celebrated  poem. 
In  the  rebellion  of  1/45,  the  suc- 
cess of  the  insurgents  under  the 
Pretender  induced  Mr.  Home  to 
suspend  his  clerical  character  and 
pursuits,  and  take  up  arms  in  de- 
fence of  the  existing  government. 
He  was  present  at  the  battle  of 
Falkirk  ,-  where  he  was  taken  pri- 
soner, and,  with  five  or  six  other 
gentlemen,  escaped  from  the  castle 
of  Down.  The  rebellion  being 
soon  quelled,  he  resumed  the  duties 
of  his  profession.  In  1749,  he 
visited  England,  and  was  intro- 
duced to  Collins  the  poet,  who 
addressed  to  him  his  Ode  on  the 
popular  Superstitions  of  the  High- 
lands of  Scotland,  considered  as  the 
Sulject  of  Poetry . 

Mr.  Home  had,  in  his  leisure 
hours,  cultivated  the  belles  lettres ; 
and,  notwithstanding  the  rigour  of 
the  church  of  Scotland,  finding 
in  his  natural  genius  a  bent  to 
poetry,  and  not  conceiving  that 
tragedy,  in  which  are  contained 
the  principles  of  virtue,  morality, 
filial  duty,  patriotic  zeal,  and  re- 
verence for  an  over-ruling  Power,, 
could  be  inconsistent  with  the 
profession  of  a  religion  in  which 
all  these  are  in  the  strongest  man- 
ner inculcated  and  enjoined,  he 
formed  a  dramatic  piece;  and  pre- 
senting it  to  the  managers  of  the 
theatre  at  Edinburgh,  at  that  time 
iu  a  more  flourishing  condition 
a  a  4 


360 


H  O  M 

than  it  had  been  for  many  years 
before,  and  vying,  in  every  respect, 
as  far  as  circumstances  would  per- 
mit,  with  those  of,  London,  they 
saw  its  merit,  readily  accepted  it, 
put  it  into  rehearsal,  and  prepared 
for  the  performance  of  it  in  such 
a  manner  as  might  do  honour  to 
the  author,  and  bring  both  credit 
and    emolument    to     themselves. 
These  transactions,  however,  com- 
ing to  the  knowledge  of  the  elders 
of  the  kirk,  they,  in   their  great 
zeal,  remonstrated  with  the  author 
on   the  heinous  crime  that   he  was 
committing  ;  but  he,   not  quite  so 
perfectly  convinced  as  they  would 
have  had  him  be,  of  the  iniquity 
of  the  act  itself,  unconscious  of  any 
ill  intention,  and  pretty  thorough- 
ly persuaded  that  his  play  would 
meet  with  a  success  from  which 
lie  should  reap  both  fame  and  pro- 
fit, was  not  willing  at  once  to  de- 
sist,   nor   with   his  own   hands  to 
pull  down  a  fabric  which  he  had, 
at  the  expense  of  much  time  and 
labour,   been  rearing.     They  now- 
endeavoured    to    terrify    the   per- 
formers from  representing   if,  but 
with  no    better  success.     Author 
and  actors  were  both  equally  in- 
corrigible j   the  piece  was  brought 
on,  and  met  with  that  encourage- 
ment to  which  its  merit  justly  en- 
titled it.    What  remained  then  for 
these  incensed  elders  to  do,  but  in 
a  public  convocation  to  expel,  and 
for  ever  to  disqualify  for  the  mini- 
stry, not  only  this  disobedient  sou, 
but  even  others,  his  friends,  who 
were    wicked    enough    either    to 
keep  him  company,  or  to  go    to 
see  his  piece  performed  ;   and  by 
various  pamphlets,  advertisements, 
&c.    to  thunder   their  anathemas 
against  those  implements  of  Satan, 
the  actors,  who  had  thus  led  aside, 
or  at  least  abetted  in  his  wander- 
ing, this  lost  sheep  of  the  fiock  ? 


H  O  M 

However,  as  persecution  most 
commonly  defeats  its  own  pur- 
poses, so  did  it  happen  in  this 
.  for  the  ill  treatment  which 
Mr.  Home  had  met  with  from  the 
elders  of  his  church,  was  amply 
compensated  by  the  applause  of 
those  who  gave  a  direction  to  the 
public  taste  ;  and  David  Hume, 
being  about  to  publish  his  Four 
Dissertations,  prefixed  a  dedica- 
tion of  them  to  our  author;  in 
which  he  praised  this  play  [see 
Douglas,  in  Vol.  II.]  in  terms  of 
most  extravagant  eulogy  ;  which 
gave  occasion  to  national  reflec- 
tions, by  no  means  favourable  to 
the  performance  praised  ;  and  the 
dedication  was  in  a  short  time 
cane.  lied  *. 

i  he  success  of  Douglas,  at  the 
Edinburgh  theatre,  induced  our 
author  to  offer  it  to  the  London 
managers;  when,  notwithstanding  « 
all  the  influence  exerted  in  its  fa- 
vour, it  was  refused  by  Mr.  Gar- 
rick.  Mr.  Rich,  however,  accept- 
ed it,  and  it  was  acted  the  first 
time  at  Covent  Garden,  March  14, 
\J3~,  with  moderate  applause, 
such  as  by  no  means  indicated  that 
which  it  afterwards  ob- 
tained. The  worth  of  the  play, 
however,  was  gradually  acknow- 
ledged by  the  public,  and  it  is  now 
out  of  tiic  reach  of  critical  censure. 
During  the  negotiation  of  the  per- 
formance of  Douglas  in  London, 
the  austerity  of  the  Scotch  divines 
did  not  abate.  An  :  >as  against 
the  theatres;  and  the  frequenters 
of  them,  daily  issued  from  the 
press  ;  dnd  censures  on  those  cler- 
gymen who  abetted  the  author, 
werg      .         ed  for  without  c 

*  During  the  x  .  ■'■'"■'£- 

Lit,  a  Briton, 

ia  the  pit,  i a  suci       .  with 

.  .     r  of  triumph,  "  VVeel,   I 
"  think  ycu  of  Wully  Shaksgeare  n< 


361 


HOM 

ing.  There  appearing  little  hopes 
of  conciliation,  our  author  was  in- 
duced to  withdraw  himself  from 
the  jurisdiction  or'  the  presbytery. 
He  resigned  his  living  on  the  7th 
of  June  IJ57,  assumed  the  lav 
habit,  and  from  that  period  relin- 
quished both  the  honours  and 
emoluments  annexed  to  the  cleri- 
cal character. 

Thus  harshly  treated  in  his  own 
country,  however,  Mr.  Hume  met 
with  essential  protection  in  Eng- 
land. Being  known  to  the  Earl  of 
Bute,  and  that  nobleman  repre- 
senting the  circumstances  of  this 
unreasonable  oppression,  exercised 
on  a  man  of  genius,  to  our  present 
Sovereign,  then  Prince  of  Wales, 
his  Royal  Highness  stretched  out 
iiis  protecting  hand  to  the  author 
of  Douglas',  and,  by  settling  a  very 
handsome  pension  on  him,  and 
iheltering  him  under  his  own  pa- 
tronage, put  it  out  of  the  power 
of  either  bigotry,  envy,  or  male- 
volence, to  blast  his  laurels.  Mr. 
Home  afterwards  pursued  his  poe- 
tical efforts,  and  produced  more 
dramatic  pieces,  which  were 
brought  on  the  stage  in  this  city ; 
but,  whether  through  an  eagerness 
to  prove  still  further  his  inclina- 
tion to  deserve  the  favour  he  had 
met  with,  he  had  not  allowed  him- 
self sufficient  time  for  planning, 
digesting,  reconsidering,  and  cor- 
recting his  works,  or  that  in  his 
rir.it  play  the  diffidence  of  a  young 
author  might  make  him  more 
ready  to  ask  and  pursue  the  judg- 
ment of  others,  or  from  what  other 
cause  we  know  not,  but  Douglas 
still  stands  as  Mr.  Home's  master- 
piece in  dramatic  writing.  He 
never  afterwards  resumed  his  cle- 
rical profession  ;  but  enjoyed  a 
place  under  the  government  in 
Scotland.  It  was  once  reported, 
that  he  had   some  pretensions  to 


H  O  M 

the  title  of  Earl  of  Dunbar  j 
but  on  what  ground  we  have  not 
learned.  His  plays,  which  are  all 
tragedies,  are  entitled  as  follow: 

1.  Douglas.     T.  Svo.    1/^7- 

2.  Agis.     T.  Svo.  175S. 

3.  The   Siege  of  Aquileia.    T. 
8vo.   17OO. 

4 .  The  Fatal  Discovery.  T.  Svo. 
1769. 

5.  Alon%o.  T.  Svo.   1773. 

6.  Alfred.     T.  Svo.  1778. 
This  last  was  acted  the  21st  of 

January  177S,  at  Covent  Garden; 
but  with  so  little  success,  that, 
after  three  representations,  it  was 
withdrawn,  and  consigned  to  ob- 
livion ;  and  with  it  ended  Mr. 
Home's  connexion  with  the  stage. 
After  this  period,  Mr.  Home  pub- 
lished A  History  of  the  Rebellion, 
in  17-15,  from  which  great  expec- 
tations were  excited,  on  account 
of  the  means  he  possessed  of  be- 
ing well  informed.  Those  ex- 
pectations, however,  were  not  an- 
swered ;  the  work  being  meagre 
and  unsatisfactory,  defective  in 
many  important  points,  and  by  no 
means  calculated  to  gratify  curio- 
sity, to  afford  information,  or 
support  the  character  of  the  author 
as  an  historian.  Mr.  Home  was 
always,  as  far  as  his  means  would 
admit,  the  friend  and  patron  of 
merit;  and,  under  his  fostering 
hand,  many  sparks  of  literary  ge- 
nius, that  would  have  otherwise 
lain  dormant,  were  brought  to 
light.  One  instance  of  this  kind 
we  shall  mention.  The  celebrated 
Poems  of  Ossian  would  never  have 
been  heard  of,  had  not  Mr.  Home 
stretched  forth  his  protecting  hand 
to  Macpherson,  the  translator. 
Yv'hile  Mr. Macpherson  was  sc: 
master  of  lluthven,  in  Badenoch, 
he  occupied  his  leisure  hours  in 
collecting,  from  the  native  but  il- 
literate bards  of  the  mountains  o( 


362 


HOO 

Scotland,  fragments  of  these  ini- 
mitable poems  :  a  few  of  them  he 
translated,  and  inserted  them  oc- 
casionally in  a  weekly  miscellany, 
then  conducted  at  Edinburgh,  by 
Walter  Ruddiman.  The  beauty 
of  these  pieces  soon  attracted  the 
notice  of  Mr.  Home,  and  of  Drs. 
Robertson  and  Blair;  and  it  was  re- 
solved by  these  gentlemen  to  send 
for  Mr.  Macpherson  from  his 
humble  retreat.  He  accordingly 
came  to  Edinburgh,  and  had  an 
interview  with  these  literary  cha- 
racters ;  the  result  of  which  was, 
that  he  resigned  his  situation  as 
schoolmaster,  travelled,  at  their 
expense,  all  over  the  Highlands, 
and  collected  the  originals  of  those 
poems,  which  have  since  been  the 
subject  of  so  much  controversy. 
Macpherson,  at  his  death,  left 
our  author  2000/.  as  a  mark  of 
grateful  recollection  of  the  acts  of 
kindness  he  had  received  from  him 
in  early  life. 

Mr.  Home  died  at  Merchiston 
House,  near  Edinburgh,  Sept.  4, 
1808. 

Hook,  Mrs.  (wife  of  Mr.  James 
Hook,well  known  as  the  composer, 
for  many  years,  of  the  Vauxhall 
music,  as  well  as  of  that  of  several 
dramatic  pieces  for  the  different 
theatres),  was  author  of 

The  Double  Disguise.  M.  E. 
Svo.  17S-4. 

This  lady,  whose  maiden-name 
■was  Madden,  died  at  South  Lam- 
beth, Oct.  19,   1805. 

Hook,  Rev.  Dk.  James,  a  son 
of  the  preceding,  was  of  St.  Mary 
Hall,  Oxford,  and  has  now  some 
valuable  church  preferment.  He 
married,  June  1,  1797-  Anne, 
second  daughter  of  Sir  Walter 
Farquhar,  Bart,  and  to  his  pen 
have  been  ascribed  the  following 
dramatic  pieces : 

1.  Jack  nf  Neivhiry .  Op.  1795. 

2vT.  P. 


HOO 

2.  Diamond  cut  Liamond.  M. 
E.   1797.   N.  P. 

Hook,  Theodore  Edward, 
is  brother  of  the  above  mentioned, 
and  exhibited  early  signs  of  dra- 
matic talent ;  for  tt  was  while  he 
was  at  school  in  Cambridgeshire, 
that  he  wrote,  at  thirteen  years  of 
age,  his  first  piece  for  the  stage. 
He  was  afterwards  placed  at  Har- 
row, where  he  remained  till  the 
death  of  his  mother.  His  drama- 
tic writings  are  as  follow  : 

1.  Soldier 's  Return.  C.  O.  Svo. 
1805. 

2.  Catch  Him  who  can.  M.F. 
Svo.   1806. 

3.  The  Invisible  Girl.  Pet.  Piece. 
8vo.  1806. 

4.  Tekeli.  Mel.  Dr.  8vo.  180(5. 

5.  The  Fortress.  Mel.  Dr.  8vo. 
1S07. 

6.  Music  Mad.  Dr.  Sk.  8vo. 
1808. 

7-  Siege  of  St.  Quintin.  D.  Svo. 
1808. 

8.  Killing  no  Murder.  F.  Svo. 
I8O9. 

9-  Safe  and  Sound.  Op.  Svo. 
I8O9. 

10.  Ass-ass-ination.  S.  C.  E« 
1810.  N.  P. 

11.  The  Will,  or  The  Widow. 
Dr.  Trifle.  1810.  N.  P. 

Hoole,"  Charles,  was  born 
at  Wakefield,  in  Yorkshire,  in  the 
year  1610,  and  educated  at  the 
free-school  there.  At  the  age  of 
eighteen  years,  bv  the  advice  of 
his  kinsman  Dr.  Robert  Sanderson, 
afterwards  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  he 
was  sent  to  Lincoln  College,  Ox- 
ford, where  he  became  a  proficient 
in  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  tongues, 
and  in  philosophy.  After  he  had 
taken  one  degree  in  arts,  he  en- 
tered into  orders,  retired  to  Lin- 
colnshire for  a  lime,  and  was  ap- 
pointed master  of  the  free-school 
at  Rotherlwm,  in  Yorkshire.     Iti 


363 


HOO 


HOO 


the  beginning  of  the  civil  war  he 
went  to  London,  and,  by  the  in- 
vitation of  some  of  tbe  citizens, 
taught  a  private  school,  first  near 
Red  Cross  Street,  and  afterwards 
in  Token  House  Garden,  in  Loth- 
bury.  About  the  Restoration  he 
was  invited  into  Monmouthshire  ; 
but  the  promises  made  to  induce 
him  to  go  there  not  being  an- 
swered, he  returned  to  London, 
and  was  taken  under  the  protection 
of  his  relation  Dr.  Sanderson, 
who  died  soon  after.  About  that 
time  he  became  rector  of  Stock, 
near  Billericay,  in  Essex,  where  he 
died  on  the  7th  of  March  1666, 
having  amongst  other  works  pub- 
lished 

A  Translation  of  Terence.  Svo. 
1663. 

Hoole,  Johx,  was  the  son  of 
Samuel  Hoole,  of  London,  watch- 
maker, by  Sarah  his  wife,  the 
daughter  of  James  Drury,  a  clock- 
maker,  whose  family  came  from 
Warwickshire.  John  Hoole  was 
born  in  Moorfi  Ids,  in  December 
1727,  and  was  ducated  at  a  pri- 
vate boarding-school,  in  Hertford- 
shire, kept  by  Mr.  James  Bennett, 
the  publisher  of  Roger  Ascham's 
works.  In  17-14,  being  then  17 
years  of  age,  he  was  placed  as  a 
clerk  in  the  East  India  House. 
Having  a  great  delight  in  reading, 
particularly  works  of  imagination, 
he  employed  his  leisure  hours  in 
his  favourite  amusement,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  endeavoured  to 
improve  himself  in  the  knowledge 
of  the  Latin  tongue,  and  of  the 
Italian  ;  which  last  he  wished  to 
acquire,  that  he  might  peruse  in 
the  original  his  favourite  author 
Ariosto,  of  whom,  when  a  boy, 
he  became  enamoured,  from  read- 
ing the  Orlando  Furioso  in  Sir 
John  Harrington's  old  translation. 
Jn    1757  he  was  married  to  Su- 


sannah Smith,  of  Bishop  Stortford, 
in  Hertfordshire  5  and,  in  1758, 
undertook  the  translation  ofTasso's 
Jerusalem  Delivered,  laying  aside 
his  design  of  translating  Ariosto, 
of  which  he  had  already  finished 
some  of  the  first  books.  On  the 
death  of  Mrs.  Woffington,  which 
happened  in  March  1760,  Mr. 
Hoole  published  a  monody,  which 
has  been  since  printed  in  Pearch's 
Collection  of  Poe?ns,  and  in  Bell's 
Fugitive  Poetry.  In  1763  he  print- 
ed his  translation  of  the  Jerusalem. 
This  was  his  first  avowed  publica- 
tion, having  before  only  printed 
two  or  three  little  poetical  essays, 
which,  with  the  monody,  were 
without  any  name.  In  1767  he 
published  two  volumes  of  the 
dramas  of  Metastasio,  a  copy  of 
which  book  he  transmitted  to  tha 
author  at  Vienna,  and  was  in  re- 
turn honoured  with  a  very  elegant 
letter  from  Metastasio.  In  1773 
Mr.  Hoole  published  a  volume 
containing  the  first  ten  books  of 
Orlando  Furioso,  intending  to  have 
proceeded  with  the  entire  transla- 
tion ;  but  being  at  this  time  esta- 
blished in  an  office  of  consequence 
as  auditor  of  Indian  accounts  to 
the  East  India  Company,  his  poe- 
tical studies  were  discontinued ; 
the  great  business  arising  from  the 
parliamentary  inquiries  into  the 
Company's  affairs  calling  for  all 
his  exertions  in  preparing  accounts 
and  estimates  for  the  House  of 
Commons,  during  which  inquiry 
he  was  examined  at  the  bar  of 
both  Houses.  In  1783  Mr.  Hoole 
published  his  complete  translation 
of  the  Orlando  Furioso,  in  five 
volumes.  In  1785  he  became  the 
biographer  of  his  friend  Mr.  Scott, 
of  Amweli ;  at  the  end  of  that 
year  he  resigned  his  employment  in 
the  East  India  House,  after  a  ser- 
vice of  nearly  forty-two  years;  and 


364 


H  O  O 

in  April  1/S6'  lie  retired,  with  his 
wife  and  son,  to  the  parsonage- 
house  of  Abinger,  near  Darking  ; 
his  son  Samuel,  who  was  in  or- 


H  U  P 

5.  Demetrius. 

6.  Demophoon. 

Printed  in  2  vols,  small  Svo.  IJOJ. 
To  these   were  added,  in   a  new 


ders,  having  taken   the  curacy  of    edition,  in  3  vols.  Svo.  1800, 


that  place.  While  he  resided 
there,  he  considered  the  objections 
that  some  readers  had  made  to  the 
length  and  perplexity  of  Ariosto' s 
poem,  and  employed  his  leisure 
in  reviewing  the  work,  retrenching 
some  parts,  and  giving  the  whole 
more  connexion  ;  and,  in  1/91,  he 
published  this  new  edition,  or  re- 
faccimento  of  Ariosto,  under  the 
title  of  The  Orlando  of  Ariosto, 
reduced  to  XXIV.  Books,  the  Nar- 
rative connected,  and  the  Stories 
disposed  in  a  regular  Series.  In  the 
year  ]/Q0  he  was  the  editor  of  a 
little  elegant  t3le  entitled  Dinar- 
las,  being  a  continuation  of  Dr. 
Johnson's  Rasselas.  This  perform- 
ance came  from  the  pen  of  a  lady 
of  very  uncommon  genius  and  ac- 
quirements    (Miss     E.     Cornelia 


7 .  Achilles  in  Scyros. 

8.  Adrian  in  Syria. 

g.  JEtius. 

10.  Dido. 

1  1.  Discovery  of  Joseph. 

12.  Dream  of  Scipio. 

13.  Regulus. 

14.  Romulus  and  Hersilia. 

15.  Siroes. 

1 6 .  Th  e  m  is  t  odes . 

17.  The  Uninhabited  Island. 

18.  Zcnolia. 

Hoter,  Mus.  This  lady  was 
the  daughter  of  one  Mr.  Harford, 
a  very  eminent  upholsterer  and 
cabinet-maker  in  the  city,  and 
married  to  a  person  of  the  same 
occupation  in  Cornhill,  to  whom 
she  brought  no  inconsiderable  for- 
tune. But,  though  Mr.  Hoper's 
circumstances    were,  at    the    first 


Knight),  whothen resided  with  her     setting  out  in  life,  fully  adequate 


mother  in  Italy.  The  last  work 
which  Mr.  Hoole  gave  to  the 
world,  was  a  translation  of  the 
juvenile  poem  of  Tasso,  entitled 
Rinaldo,  which  must  be  considered 
as  a  literary  curiosity,  being,  in- 
dependent of  the  poetical  merit  of 
the  original,  an  extraordinary  spe- 
cimen of  early  genius.  Mr.  Hoole 
died  at  Abinger  Parsonage,  Aug.  2, 
1S03,  aged  ;ti. 

In  the  dramatic  way,  he  was 
the  author  of  the  following 
pieces: 

1.  Cyrus.     T.  Svo.   1768. 

2.  fimanthes.     T.    Svo.   1//0. 

3.  Clecmice,  Princess  of  Rithy- 
nia.   T.  Svo.    1/75. 

And  translated  from  Metastasio, 
1 .  Arta.rerxes. 
1.   The  Olympiad* 

3.  Hypsipile. 

4.  Titus. 


to  that  fortune,  and  for  some  time 
he  continued  successful  in  busi- 
ness; yet  a  vain  desire,  which  is 
no  uncommon  frailty  among  per- 
sons in  trade  in  this  metropolis, 
of  supporting  a  figure  somewhat 
greater  than  his  rank  in  life  re- 
quired, together  with  a  real  de- 
cline in  the  business  itself,  in  a 
few  years  considerably  impaired 
his  circumstances.  Yet,  even  at 
his  death,  they  were  found  not  so 
much  shattered,  but  that  a  little 
care  anu  a  continuance  of  good 
fortune  might  have  fully  retrieved 
them.  Rut,  having  left  behind 
him  only  a  wife  and  one  son,  nei- 
ther of  them  experienced  in  trade, 
and  the  latter  even  too  young  to 
conduct  it,  the  business  was  now 
obliged  to  be  carried  on  bv  jour- 
neymen only,  who,  probablv  tak- 
ing advantage  of  the  ignorance  of 


305 


HOP 

their  mistress,  or  at  least  not  act- 
ing with  the  same  assiduity  for 
another  as  they  might  have  done 
for  their  own  immediate  emolu- 
ment, she  soon  found  herself  in- 
volved in  too  large  a  concern  for 
her  to  manage,  and  therefore  pru- 
dently threw  up  business  before  it 
had  plunged  her  into  difficulties 
beyond  her  power  of  extricating 
herself  from.  Having  sold  off  her 
stock  in  trade,  and  settled  her  af- 
fairs, she  now  considered  of  some 
method,  whereby  she  might  find 
means  to  increase,  rather  than  di- 
minish, the  little  pittance  she  was 
at  present  possessed  of.  Being  a 
woman  of  a  sprightly  imagination 
and  active  mind,  the  pen  appeared 
to  her  no  improbable  resource ; 
and  dramatic  writing  was  that  to 
which  her  genius  found  its  strong- 
est bent.  Here,  however,  she 
had,  Phaeton-like,  undertaken  too 
arduous  a  task  for  her  to  perform. 
For,  though  she  wrote  three  or 
four  pieces,  none  of  them  were  ac- 
cepted by  the  managers ;  and  when, 
at  her  own  expense,  she  found 
means  to  have  three  of  them  re- 
presented, one  at  the  playhouse  in 
Goodman's  Fields,  and  the  other 
two  at  the  little  theatre  in  the  Hay- 
market,  the  success  they  met  with 
was  a  sufficient  vindication  of  the 
managers'  refusal  of  them.  Their 
titles  were, 

1.  Edward  the  Black  Prince.  T. 
[About  174S.]   N.  P. 

2.  The  Cyclopaedia.  F.  1748. 
N.  P. 

3.  Queen  Tragedy  restored.  Dr. 
Ent.  Svo.   1749. 

Mrs.  Hoper's  good  understand- 
ing, however,  at  length  opening 
her  eyes  to  the  difficulties  that 
attended  on  the  performance  of 
this  plan,  she  retired  with  her  son, 
then  grown  up,  to  Enfield,  in  Mid- 
dlesex j  where  the  latter,  who  had 


HOP 

had  a  liberal  education,  set  up  a 
school,  in  which  he  met  with  good 
success  ;  and  this,  after  his  death, 
which  happened  many  years  ago, 
was  continued  under  the  care  of 
our  authoress. 

HorKms,  Charles.  This  gen-, 
tleman  was  son  of  Dr.  Ezekiel 
Hopkins,  Bishop  of  Londonderry, 
in  Ireland,  to  which  kingdom  our 
author,  who  was  born  in  Devon- 
shire, was  carried  over  very  young, 
and  received  the  early  parts  of 
his  education  in  Trinity  College, 
Dublin.  From  thence  he  was  sent 
to  England,  and  completed  his 
studies  in  the  university  of  Cam- 
bridge, where  he  became  a  mem- 
ber of  Queen's  College,  and  took 
the  degree  of  A.  B.  16S8.  On 
the  breaking  out  of  the  wars  in 
Ireland,  he  went  thither,  and,  en- 
tering into  the  service  of  King 
"William,  exerted  his  early  valour 
in  the  cause  of  his  country,  its 
religion  and  liberties.  These  wars 
being  at  an  end,  he  returned  again 
to  his  native  land,  where  he  fell 
into  the  acquaintance  and  esteem 
of  gentlemen,  whose  age  and  ge- 
nius were  most  agreeable  to  his 
own. 

In  lGcj-l,  he  published  some 
Epistolary  Poems  and  Translm 
tions ;  and  in  l6g5,  The  History 
of  Love,  which,  by  the  sweetness 
of  his  numbers  and  easiness  of  his 
thoughts,  procured  him  consider- 
able reputation.  With  Mr.  Dry- 
den  in  particular  he  became  a 
great  favourite.  He  afterwards 
published  The  Art  of  Love, 
11  which  (Jacob  says)  added  to 
"  his  fame,  and  happily  brought 
"  him  acquainted  with  the  Earl  of 
"  Dorset  and  other  persons  of  dis- 
"  tinction,  who  were  fond  of  his 
"  company,  through  the  agree- 
"  ableness  of  his  temper  and  the 
"  pleasantry  of  his  conversation. 


365 


HOR 
"  It  was  in  his  power  to  have 
"  made  his  fortune  in  any  scene 
"  of  life  ;  but  he  was  always  more 
"  ready  to  serve  others  than  mind- 
"  ful  of  his  own  affairs ;  and  by 
"  the  excesses  of  hard  drinking, 
*(  and  a  too  passionate  fondness  for 
"  the  fair  sex,  he  died  a  martyr 
"  to  the  cause,  in  the  thirty-sixth 
"  year  of  his  age."  His  death 
happened  about  the  beginning  of 
the  year  1700. 

In  his  dramatic  writings  his  ge- 
nius led  him  to  tragedy ;  the  pjeces 
he  lias  left  behind  him  being  the 
three  following : 

1.  Pyrrhus,  King  of  Eplrus.  T. 
4to.   16Q5. 

2.  Boadicea,  Queen  of  Britain. 
T.  4to.   I697. 

3.  Friendship  unproved.  T.  4to. 
1/00. 

Horde,  Thomas,  jun.  This 
author,  we  believe,  was  a  teacher 
in  the  grammar-school  at  Stow 
on  the  Wold,  Gloucestershire. 
His  dramatic  productions  are  as 
follow  : 

1 .  Leander  and  Hero.  T.  Svo. 
1769. 

2.  Zelida.     T.  Svo.    1/72. 

3.  Dramatic  Love.  C.  Svo. 
1773. 

4.  Damon  and  Phehe.  M.  E. 
Svo.   17/4. 

5.  Disappointed  Villany.  Ent. 
8vo.  1775. 

6.  Pretended  Puritan.     F.  Svo. 

1779- 

7.  Whimsical  Serenade.  F.  8vo. 
17S1. 

8.  The  Female  Pedant.  F.  Svo. 
1782. 

Q.  Intrigue  in  a  Cloister.  F. 
8vo.  17S3. 

10.  Nature  tcill  prevail.  F. 
8vo.   1784. 

1 1 .  Love  in  a  Mystery.  F.  Svo. 
1786. 

12.  As  the  World  goes. 

13.  The  Empirick.    P. 


HOR 


14.  It  was  Right  at  the  last.  F. 
Svo.  N.  D. 

J .') .   Paradise  of  Funis. 

Ho  B  D  E  X ,     H I L  D  E  B  R  AND,      Was 

the  son  of  Dr.  Horden,  minister 
of  Twickenham,  in  Middlesex,  and 
was  an  actor  as  well  as  an  author. 
He  nourished  in  the  reign  of  Wil- 
liam III.  and,  being  possessed  of 
almost  every  requisite  for  eminence 
in  the  dramatic  profession,  was 
daily  growing  into  favour  with 
the  public ;  when  unfortunately, 
after  having  been  about  seven 
years  upon  the  stage,  he  lost  his 
life,  in  a  frivolous,  rash,  accidental 
quarrel,  which  he  fell  into  at  the 
bar  of  the  Rose  Tavern,  as  he  was 
passing  through  that  house,  in 
order  to  go  to  rehearsal.  On 
occasion  of  his  death,  one  Colonel 
Burgess,  a  gentleman  who  was 
resident  at  Venice,  and  some  olher 
persons  of  distinction,  were  oblig- 
ed to  take  their  trial ;  but  were 
honourably  acquitted,  it  appearing 
to  have  been  a  mere  accidental 
rencontre. 

Among  other  perfections  ne- 
cessary to  his  profession,  he  pos- 
sessed a  person  so  remarkably 
handsome,  that,  after  he  was  kill- 
ed, several  ladies,  very  well  dress- 
ed, came  in  masks,  which  were 
then  greatly  worn,  and  some  even 
openly  and  in  their  own  coaches, 
to  visit  him  in  his  shroud. 

The  authors  of  the  dramatic  ca- 
talogues have  ascribed  to  him  one 
piece,  entitled 

Neglected  Virtue.  P.  4 to.  169Q. 
But  it  appears,  from  the  preface, 
&c.  that  it  \»as  only  put  into  his 
hands  by  a  friend. 

Mr.  Horden  was  buried  in  a 
vault  in  the  parish  church  of  St. 
Clement  Danes. 

Horne,  John.  This  gentle- 
man, who  was  of  New  College, 
Oxford,  M.  A.  June  30,  1677, 
left  behind  him  at  his  death, 


367 


H  O  U 

Fortunes  Taske.  P.  1684.  N.P. 

Hough,  J.  This  gentleman 
was  of  the  Inner  Temple,  and  au- 
thor of  a  piece  acted  at  Drury 
Lane,  for  the  benefit  of  Miss 
Younge,  in  the  year  17/8,  entitled 

Second  Thought  is  best.  C.  O. 
8vo.  1778. 

Houlton,  Robert,  M.  B.  a 
native  of  England,  studied  physic 
at  Edinburgh,  which  he  practised 
with  some  success  in  Ireland, 
when  inoculation  was  first  intro- 
duced there.  He  afterwards  assist- 
ed periodical  works,  and  brought 
out  some  musical  pieces  on  the 
Dublin  stages.  On  his  return  to 
London  he  assisted  a  morning  pa- 
per, produced  some  well-written 
poems,  &c.  also  songs  for  Vaux- 
hall,  and  prologues ;  particularly 
one  for  Crotchet  Lodge,  which 
was  spoken  by  Mr.  Fawcett.  His 
"  Belles  have  at  ye  all,"  originally 
spoken  by  Miss  Scrace  at  Crow 
Street,  Dublin,  was  likewise  de- 
livered by  Mrs.  Mattocks,  on  a 
benefit  night,  at  Covent  Garden.  It 
was  some  time,  however,  before  he 
obtained  an  opportunity  of  becom- 
ing a  dramatist  in  London.  At 
length,  by  the  assistance  of  his 
composer,  Mr.  Hook,  his  opera 
called  Wilmore  Castle  was  accept- 
ed by  the  Drury  Lane  managers. 
In  this  the  author's  avowed  hope 
was,  to  revive  old  English  opera, 
in  opposition  to  the  present  taste 
for  musical  pageantry  and  bustle ; 
but  the  attempt  was  unsuccessful ; 
and  both  in  his  preface  to  this 
opera,  and  in  a  pamphlet  which 
he  afterwards  published,  and  in 
which  he  takes  a  review  of  all  the 
recent  operatical  productions,  he 
seems  to  ascribe  the  cause  of  its 
failure  to  jealousy  and  mismanage- 
ment.    His  dramas  are, 

1.   The  Contract.     C.  O.   1183. 

N.P. 


HOW 

2.  Double  Stratagem.  C.  O. 
1784.     N.  P. 

3.  Gibraltar.  CO.  1/84.  N.P. 

4.  Orpheus  and  Eurydice.  Burl. 
Op.    17S4.  N.  P. 

5.  Calypso.    C.  O.  1785.  N.P. 

6.  Wilmore  Castle.  C.  O.  8vo. 
1800. 

Houston,  Lady,  relict  of  Sir 
Thomas,   wrote 

The  Coquettes.     Com.   N.  P. 
She  died,    we  believe,    July  30, 
1/80. 

Houston,  T.  A  gentleman  of 
Newcastle,  who  published 

Term-day.     Com.   1803. 

Howard,  the  Hon.  Edward. 
This  gentleman  was  much  more 
illustrious*  from  his  birth  and  fa- 
mily, than  from  the  brilliance  of 
his  genius ;  being  brother  to  the 
Earl  of  Berkshire  and  to  Sir  Bobert 
Howard,  whom  we  shall  have  oc- 
casion hereafter  to  mention.  Poe- 
try was  his  passion  rather  than  his 
talent ;  and,  though  he  wrote 
many  plays  and  an  epic  poem,  he 
gained  no  reputation  by.  any  of 
them;  but,  on  the  contrary,  only 
furnished  food  for  the  wits  of  that 
time,  who  have  treated  him  very 
severely ;  particularly  the  Earl  of 
Rochester,  in  an  invective  against 
his  comedy  of  The  Six  Days  Ad- 
venture ;  and  the  Earl  of  Dorset, 
that  best  good  man  ivith  the  worst- 
naiured  Muse,  in  a  copy  of  verses 
addressed  to  him  on  his  poem  of 
The  British  Princes. 

Mr.  Howard  lived  in  King 
Charles  II. 's  reign;  but  the  parti- 
cular dates  either  of  his  birth  or 
death  do  not  stand  on  record. 
The  dramatic  pieces  he  has  left 
behind  him  are  the  following: 

1.  Usurper.     T.  4to.   1(568. 

2.  Six  Days  Adventure.  C.  4to 
1671. 

3.  The  Women's  Conquest.  T. 
C.  4to.  1671. 


368 


HOW 

A.  Man  of  Newmarket.  C.  4to. 
1678. 

5.  The  Change  of  Croivnes.  A 
Play.     N.  P. 

6.  The  London  Gentleman 
N.  P. 

7.  The  United  Kingdoms.  T.  C. 
N.  P.     See  The  Rehearsal. 

From  the  following  verses  in 
The  Session  of  the  Poets,  printed 
among  The  Slate  Poems,  Part  I. 
p.  206,  it  should  seem  that  some 
of  the  plays  ascribed  to  Edward 
Howard,  were  written  by  Shirley: 

"  Ned  Howard,  in  whom  great  nature 
is  found, 


HOW 


Will  net  another's  woe  his  bosom  share, 
The  widow's  sorrow,  and  the  orphan's 

prayer  ? 
Who  aids  the  old,   who  soothes  the  mo- 
ther's cry, 
C.     Who  wipes  the  tear  from  off  the  virgin's 

eye  ? 
Who  feeds  the  hungry?  who  assists  the 

lame  ? 
All,  all,  re-echo  with  Fitzwilliam's  name. 
Thou   know '.,t    1   hate  to  flatter,  yet   in 

thee 
No  fauit,  my  friend,  no  single  speck  I 

see. 
Nor,  if  alile  my  former  maxim  's  true, 
Shall  e'er  il'-nature  tinge  thy  heart,  Buc- 

cleugh. 
Shall    deep   remorse    thy  honest  bosom 


tear, 
Though  never  took  notice  of  until     Disdainful  anger)  or  corroding  care? 
that  day  Shall  e'er  ambition  dissipate  that  smile, 

"  Impatient'.y   sat   till   it    came    to    his     Dlsturo   tr>at  heart  so  free   from  every 
round,  Sui,e  •' 

"  Then  rose  and  commended  the  plot     Sooner  sha11  Bute  t0  Temple  bend  his 


of  his  play, 
"  Such  arrogance  made   Apollo    stark  - 
mad, 
"  But  Shirley  endeavour'd  to  appease 
his  choler, 
"  By  owning  this  play,  and  swearing  the 
lad 
"  In  poetry  was  a  very  pert  scholar." 

Howard,  Frederic,  Earl  of 


knee, 

And  W — s  or  C 11  pious  Christians  be. 

How  will  my  Fox,  alone,  by  strength 

of  parts, 
Shake   the   loud    Senate,    animate    the 

hearts 
Of  fearful  statesmen  ?  while  around  you 

stand 
Both  Peers  and  Commons,  listening  your 

command ; 


Carlisle,    was    born     May   28,  Whiie  Tully's  sense  its  weight  to  you 

1/4S,  and  succeeded  his  rather  in  „.   „„ ae°rfis'     ;         .,'.-. 

,i      ...i     ■                     ,-  His  nervous  sweetness  shall  adorn  vour 

the  title  ten  years  afterwards.   His  words : 

mother   was  Isabel,    daughter  of  What  praise  to  Pitt,  to  Townsend,  e'er 

William  Lord  Byron,  and  the  au-  was  due, 

thor    of    some    poetical   perform-  In  future  times,  my  .Fox,  shall  wait  on 

ances.     His  Lordship  received  his  »ri/°U*.u    A      .v,  .     u- 

_j„„„»-         .Ut             K      ,.,      ,  Mild  as  the  dew  that  whitens  yonder 

education  atEton,  and, while  there,  ria;nj 

celebrated  some  of  his  school-fel-  Legge  shines  serenest  'midst  our  youthful 

lows  in  the  following;  verses : 


In  youth,  'tis  said,   you   easily  may 

scan, 
Strong  stamp'd,  the  outlines  of  the  future 

man. 
This  maxim  true,  how  bright  will  St. 

John  shine, 


He  whom  the  search  of  fame  with  rapture 

moves, 
Disdains  the  pedant,  though  the  Muse 

he  loves; 
By  nature  form'd  with  modesty  to  please, 
And,join'd  with  wisdom,  unaffected  ease. 
Will  e'erOphaky,  consciously  unjust, 


Formd  by  the  hands  of  all  the  tuneful  Revoke  his  promise,  or  betray  his  trust? 

Niine?  What  though  perhaps  with  warmer  zeal 
If  not  to  careless  indolence  a  prev,  he  A.  hear 

How  will  whole  nations  listen  to' his  lay?  The    echoing    horn,     the    sportsman's 
Say,    will    Fitzwilliam  ever   want   a  hearty  cheer, 

heart,  Than  godlike  Homer's  elevated  song, 

Cheerful  his  ready  blessings  to  impart  ?  Loud  as  the  torrent,as  thebilbws  strong? 


369 


H  O  W 


Cast  o'er  this  fault  a  friendlv  veil,  you  'II 

find 
A  friendly,  social,  and  ingenuous  mind. 
Witness  ye  Naiads,  and   ye  guardian 

powers, 
Who  sir  sublime  on  Henry's  loftv  towers; 
Witness  ir'eYr  I  saw  thv  open  brow 
Sunk  in  despair,  or  sadden 'd  into  woe, 
Well-r.atur'd   i^tavcrdale  — The    task    is 

thine, 
Foremost  in   Pleasure's  festive  band  to 

shine. 
Say,  wilt  thou  pass  alone  the.  midnight 

hour, 
Studious  the  depths  of  Plato  to  explore? 
To  lighter  subjects  shall  thy  soul  give  way, 
Nor  heed  what  grave  philosophers  ».  a  I 

say? 
The  god  of  mirth  shall  list  thee  in  his 

train, 
A  cheerful  vot'ry,  and  the  foe  of  pain. 

Whether  I  Storer  sins;  in  houis  cf  joy, 
When   e\ery  look  bespeaks   the  inward 

boy; 
Or  when  no  more  mirth  wantons  in  his 

breast, 
And  all  the  man  appears  in  himconfest; 
Jn  mirth,  in  sadness,  sing  him  how  I  will, 
Sense  and  good-nature  must  attend  him 

still. 
From  Eton  his  Lordship  went 
to  King's  College,  Cambridge,  and 
afterwards  travelled  abroad.  Du- 
ring his  travels,  he  was  elected 
one  of  the  Knights  Companions  of 
the  Order  of  the  Thistle,  and  was 
invested  with  the  ensigns  thereof, 
February  27,  176S,  at  Turin,  the 
King  of  Sardinia  representing  His 
Majesty  on  that  occasion. 

On  the  13th  of  June  1 777  his 
Lordship  was  sworn  of  the  Privy 
Council,  and  at  the  same  time 
appointed  Treasurer  of  His  Ma- 
jesty's household.  In  April  17/8 
he  was  named  one  of  the  Com- 
missioners to  treat,  consult,  and 
agree  upon  the  means  of  quieting 
the  disorders  subsisting  in  certain 
of  His  Majesty's  colonies,  plant- 
ations, and  provinces,  in  North 
America.  With  the  rest  of  the 
Commissioners  he  went  to  Ame- 
rica ;  but  the  disposition  of 
the  colonies  being   adverse  to  a 


HOW 

reconciliation,  the  object  of  hfe 
mission  was  defeated,  and  he  re- 
turned without  being  able  to  ren- 
der any  service  to  his  country. 
In  November  1779  ne  became 
first  Commissioner  of  Trade  and 
Plantations :  and,  in  February 
17^0,  was  nominated  Lord  Lieu- 
tenant of  Ireland  j  in  which  situa- 
tion he  remained  until  the  change 
in  the  Ministry  in  1782,  when  the 
Duke  of  Portland  was  appointed 
to  succeed  him. 

His  Lordship  is  the  author  of  a 
small  collection  of"  poems,  among 
which  the  story  of  Count  Ugolino, 
from  Dante,  is  the  most  excellent. 

On  the  22d  of  March  1770  his 
Lordship  married  Lady  Carolina, 
second  daughter  of  Granville  Le- 
vison  Gower,  Earl  Gower,  by 
whom  he  has  several  children.  His 
dramatic  productions  are  : 

1 .  The  Father's  Revenge.  T. 
4to.   1783;  8vo.  1SOO. 

2.  The  Stepmother.  T.  Svo. 
1SOO. 

Howard,  Gorges  Edmond. 
This  author  united  in  his  own  per- 
son talents  and  absurdity,  genius 
and  application,  law  and  poetry; 
in  short,  sense  and  nonsense;  and 
was  equally  the  butt  and  compa- 
nion of  the  wits  of  his  times  and 
of  his  country.  He  received  his 
school-education  under  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Sheridan,  the  companion  of 
Swift,  then  esteemed  the  first 
schoolmaster  in  Ireland.  With 
him  he  remained  until  he  was 
fitted  for  the  university  of  Dublin. 

"  I  was  first,"  says  he,  speak- 
ing of  himself,  "  intended  for  the 
"  church,  and  my  passion  was  to 
"  be  a  fellow  of  the  said  univer- 
"  sity  ;  but  Mr.  Nixon,  then  the 
'*  clerk  of  the  Pleas  office  of  the 
"  Exchequer,  having  conceived  3 
"  liking  for  me,  offered  to  take 
"  me  an  apprentice  to  him,  with' 


370 


HOW 

*'  out  any  fee;  and  as  in  his  office 
"  I  might  quickly  earn  somewhat 
*'  to  maintain  me,  these  consider- 
**  ations  induced  my  mother,  whose 
"  finances   were  but   small,    and 
"  others,  my  relations  and  friends, 
"  to  persuade  me  to  accept  of  this 
"  offer,  which   I  accordingly  did, 
"  though  against  my  inclinations 
"  abundantly.     The  consequence 
"  of  this  was,  that  for  three  years 
"  I  gave  but  little  attention  to  my 
"  business  ;  and  at  length,  having 
"  had  some  difference  with  my 
**  said    lav  -n  aster,  and  the  then 
"  Spanish  war  being  proclaimed, 
"  I  left  him,  and  engaged  as  a  ca- 
*'  det  in  General  Otway's  regiment 
"  of  foot,  where  I  carried  arms 
"  for   near    twelve    months  ;     at 
"  the  end  of  which   period,  my 
"  relations  and  friends  having  again 
"  interfered,    I    returned   to    my 
"  service  ;   in  which   I  continued 
"  an  additional  year,  to  compen- 
*'  sate  for  the  time  I  had   been 
"  absent  :    yet,    for  almost  two 
"  years  more,  my  application  to 
"  the  business  in  the  profession 
"  was  with  much  indifference;  in 
"  which  interval  I  not  only  wrote 
"  several   little  odes,  which  were 
**  inserted  in  our  public  papers  of 
'*  those  times,  but  also  formed  the 
"  sketch  of  a  tragedy  on  the  story 
"  of    Abradatus,     Araspes,     and 
*'  Pauthea,  in  Xenophon,  which 
"  I  finished  some  short  time  after1 
"  I  Lad  been  sworn  an  attorney. 

"This  piece  was  to  have  been 
"  exhibited  on  the  stage  in  Ireland ; 
'*  but  having,  by  preferring  thus 
"  my  pleasures  to  my  profit,  neg- 
"  lected  some  little  suit,  with 
"  which  I  had  been  intrusted,  and 
*«  thinking  myself  in  honour  bound 
"  to  repair  the  loss  (which  was 
'*  eOme  cost  in  the  cause)  out  of 
"  my  own  scanty  finances,  and 
*'  recollecting  what  had  been  said 


HOW 

"  to  me  by  a  very  celebrated  witty 
"  genius,  on  reading  a  translation 
"  by  me  of  one  of  the  odes  of 
"  Horace  into  English  verse, 
"  when  I  was  at  school,  of  which 
"  he  approved,  *  That  if  I  pro- 
"  cecded  in  the  way  I  had  begun, 
"  I  might  have  the  honour  of 
"starving  in  a  garret;'  on  the 
"  very  morning  that  the  tragedy 
•'  was  to  have  been  put  into  re- 
"  hearsal,  I  threw  the  manuscript 
"  into  the  fire,  and  made  a  solemn 
"  vow  not  to  write  a  line  of  poe- 
"  try  for  five  years." 

Mr.  Howard  then  applied  assi- 
duously,   and  with  great  success, 
to  his  profession  of  an  attorney  j 
"  so  that  (says  he)  for  two-and- 
"  twenty  years  and  'upwards,    it 
"  was  the  astonishment  of  every 
"  one  how   I  could    possibly   go 
"  through  what  I  did  ;  and  yet  in 
"  this   interim    I   published    my 
"  Treatises  on  the  Law  and  Equity 
"  Side  of  the  Exchequer,  in  four 
*'  large  octavo  volumes,  and  seve- 
"  ral  other  miscellaneous  works  in 
"  prose  and  verse." — "These  trea- 
"  tises (hetellsusinanother place), 
"  and  other  works,  make  no  less 
"  than   twelve  volumes,   relating 
"  to  law,  equity,    and   revenue ; 
"  in   the   publication    of    which, 
"  notwithstanding    their    general 
"  utility  hath    (I  believe  I   may 
"  venture  to  say)  been  establish- 
"  ed,    yet    I     have    lost    several 
"  hundreds  by  them ;  and  if  my 
"  time  be  taken  into  the  account, 
"  I  may  also  say  some  thousands." 
The  latter  part  of  a  note,  tending 
to  account  for  these  heavy  losses, 
has  these  words  :     "  Accordingly, 
"  my  aforesaid    first   productions 
"  lay  on  my  hands  until  they  be- 
"  came   an   incumbrance   to   my 
"  house,  having  unluckily  caused 
"to    be    printed    no     less    than 
"  two  thousand  sets  of  the  said. 


371 


HOW 

"  two  first  of  my  treatises ;  so  that 
"  I  sold  the  large  remainder  of  the 
"  impression  thereof,  for,  I  may 
"•  say,  next  to  nothing ;  and  yet, 
"  by  ambition  and  the  thirst  of 
"  fame  impelled,  I  have  still  pur- 
"  sued  these  labours." 

Daring  this  period  of  Mr.  How- 
ard's life,  the  following  occurrences 
may  perhaps  not  be  wholly  unin- 
teresting, or  unentertaining,  to  the 
reader ;  especially  as  they  relate  tp 
the  erection  and  improvement  of 
two  structures,  now  principal  or- 
naments of  the  city  of  Dublin. 

"  In  the  year  17<57>  dining  one 
"  day  with  the  late  Mr.  Bristow, 
*'  then  one  of  the  commissioners 
"  of    the    revenue,    and    others, 
"  shortly  after  Essex  Bridge  had 
"  been  finished,  at  the  then  noted 
"  chop-house   called   Sots'   Hole, 
"  adjoining  thereto,  in  the  passage 
tc  leading  from  the  bridge  to  Essex 
"  Street,  and  lamenting  the  nar- 
"  rowness  and  irregularity  of  that 
"  passage,    and    being   told    that 
"  some  of  the  houses   there  had 
"  been  presented  as  nuisances,  it 
"  was  conceived  that  I  should  in- 
"  stantly  apply  to,  and  treat  with, 
"  the  proprietors  for  a  sufficient 
"  number   of   feet    in    depth    to 
"  the  front,  so  that  the  new  houses 
'*  to  be  built  might  range  in  a  line 
"  with   the  walls  of  the  bridge ; 
*f  and  having  succeeded,  Mr.  Brisr- 
'*  tow  advanced  the  money,  which 
"  he   got  from  Parliament  after- 
"  wards,  anct  I  drew  up  the  heads 
'*  of  a  bill,  to  widen  not  only  that 
f*  pa:sage,  but  also  all  other  nar- 
"  row  passages  in  the  city  which 
1*  needed  it ;   which  having  been 
"  passed  into   a   law,  I  was  ap- 
f*  pointed  the  sole  conductor  and 
"  manager  thereof,  under  the  com- 
(e  missioners    thereby    appointed  ; 
*'  and,    accordingly,    the    present 
f<  grand  passage  to  the  seat  of  go- 


H  O  W 

"  vernment  was  made,  and  parts 
"  of  Essex  and  Dame  Street  were 
"  widened. 

"  But  while  I  was  proceeding 
"  on   this  business,  and  the  time 
"  had  come  for  the  several  inha- 
'*  bitants    to  remove    from   their 
"  houses,  some  who  were  lodgers 
"  or  room-keepers  only,  and  had 
"  not  by  the  act  a  moment  to  con- 
"  tinue  their  possession,  after  the 
"  money  adjudged  to  their  land- 
"  lords  had  been  paid  to,  and  the 
"  deeds  of   conveyance  executed 
"  by,  them,  having  conceived  that 
"  they  had  a  right  to  continue  their 
"  possession  six  months  afier,  and 
"  this  coming  to  my  knowledge 
"  on  a  Saturday,  and  that  no  less 
"  than  fourteen  bills  for  injunc- 
"  tions  would  be  on  the  file  before 
"  the  Tuesday  following,  when  the 
'*  work  was  to  begin,  and  know- 
"  \i)g  well    the   prodigious  delay 
"  such  suits  would  produce,  J  im- 
"  mediately  directed   the    under- 
"  taker  I  had  employed,  to  have 
"  as  many  workmen  and  labour- 
"  ers  as  he  could  get  (as  numbers 
'*  had  been  engaged),  ready  with 
"  ladders  and  other  tools  and  in- 
"  struments,  on  a  moment's  warn- 
"  ing,  but  with  as  much  secrecy 
"  as  possible,  to  unroof  the  several 
"  houses  of  those  who  were  to  file 
"  those    bills;    and,  accordingly, 
"  a  great  number  of  them  began 
"  some  hours  before  it  was  day; 
"  and   by    eight    o'clock    in    the 
"  morning  the  slates  were  totally 
"  stripped  off,  and  several  of  the 
"  inhabitants,  men,  women,  and 
"  children,  had  run  directly  from 
"  their  beds  into  the  streets;  some 
"  of  them,  in   their   fright,  con- 
"  ceiving    (it    being    then    war- 
'*  time),  that  the  city  had  been 
"  taken    by  storm ;    whereupon, 
"  instead  of  injunctions,  bills  of 
"  indictment  were  talked  ofj  but 


372 


HOW 
"  I  heard  no  more  of  the  matter, 
"  save  that,  for  some  lime,  it  af- 
"  forded   excellent    sport    to   the 
«  city. 

"  Immediately  after  this,  the 
"  then  chief  governor,  the  Earl, 
"  afterwards  Duke  of  Northum- 
"  berland,  who  in  greatness  of 
l<  soul  is  exceeded  by  none,  sent 
'?  to  me,  to  attend  him  with  the 
"  several  surveys  which  had  been 
"  taken  of  the  passages;  and  when 
"  I  brought  them  to  him,  having 
"  asked  me  (as  it  had  been  found  it 
"  was  not  possible  to  carry  on  the 
«5  aforesaid  passage  in  a  direct  line 
"  with  any  entrance  into  the  Casfle- 
•'  yard,  without  destroying  a  con- 
"  siderable  part  of  the  buildings 
*'  therein,  which  could  not  be 
"  spared),  if  I  had  thought  of 
"  any  object  as  a  termination  for 
"  the  new  street  ?  I  told  his  Ex- 
"  cellency,  that  a  new  chapel  for 
♦f  Government  had  been  thought 
*'  of,  with  a  high  cupola  ;  but  as 
"  the  merchants  of  Dublin  had 
"  not  any  place  to  transact  their 
"  public  business  in,  save  a  coflee- 
"  house,  and  the  open  street,  that 
ff  an  exchange  would  be  most  ac- 
*'  ceptable  to  them,.  He  quickly 
"  adopted  the  idea  ;  and  never 
"  quitted  the  pursuit,  until  he  got 
*'  the  ground  for  it,  and  a  charter 
<'  of  incorporation  from  His  Ma- 
"  jesty,  as  appears  by  several  let- 
"  ters  I  received  from  his  Lordship 
*.'  after  he  returned  to  England, 
"  and  had  been  created  a  Duke; 
"  and  Lord  Viscount  Townshend, 
*'  his  successor,  laid  the  first  stone 
"  of  it. 

'•'  Now,  for  all  my  ingenuity, 
"  labour,  and  time,  in  this,  I  may 
*'  with  safety  say,  if  I  did  not 
"  lose,  I  never  gained  a  shilling; 
"  for  an  association  (to  give  it  the 
"  mildest  term)  having  been  eu- 
sf  tered  into  by  several  persons,  to 


HOW 

"  purchase  the  grounds  at  a  low 
'f  rate,  and  I  being  informed  of 
"  this,  and  regarding  the  trust 
"  reposed  in  me,  and  the  advan- 
"  tage  of  the  public,  more  than 
"  my  interest,  I  not  only  bid  my- 
•'  self,  but  got  others  to  bid  on 
"  me,  until  I  raised  the  ground 
"  from  25  to  35*.  and  some  of  it 
"  more,  a  foot,  and  from  21  to 
"  '15  years  purchase;  and  after- 
"  wards  gave  up  three  feet  of  the 
'.'  ground  I  had  purchased  at  the 
"  corner  of  Essex  Street,  for  the 
•'  new  buildings,  which  were  to 
".  have  been  ranged  with  the 
*i  pustom-rhouse,  to  the  great  dis- 
<(  advantage  of  the  two  houses  I 
"  afterwards  built  there,  without 
"  exacting  a  shilling.  I  submitted 
"  it  to  the  commissioners. 

"  And  on  the  final  settling  of 
"  my  accounts  of  many  thousands 
"  of  pounds,  a  resolution  was 
'*  made  by  the  committee,  who 
"  were  appointed  by  the  House 
"  of  Commons  for  the  purpose, 
"  on  the  13th  of  February  1/62, 
"  in  which  I  am  mentioned  in 
"  such  a  way,  as  must  ever  give 
"  me  the  highest  satisfaction;  as 
"  must  also  the  previous  resolution 
"  of  the  ]fjth  January  1762,  by 
"  the  commissioners  appointed  by 
"  Parliament,  as  to  my  whole  con- 
'.'  duct  in  that  business. 

f  And  shortly  after  these  my 
*f  services,  the  freedom  of  the 
"  guild  of  merchants  was  granted 
"  me,  whiph  was  followed  by  that 
H  of  the  city,  without  my  know- 
"  ing  the  least  of  the  matter,  un- 
**  til  presented  to  me." 

In  the  short  intervals  of  business, 
and  even  in  the  hours  of  sickness, 
Mr.  Howard  still  maintained  an 
intercourse  with  the  Muses,  which 
gave  birth  to  various  odes,  idylls, 
epigrams,  and  no  less  than  three 
tragedies.     The  manner  in  which, 


3/3 


H  O  W 

Mr.  Howard  himself  speaks  of 
these  several  productions,  and  their 
origin,  will,  we  conceive,  amuse 
the  reader. 

"  Thus  plunged  in  the  pleasures 
"  of  the  imagination,  it  is  easy  to 
"  conceive,  that  the  business  or 
"  study  of  my  profession,  so  dia- 
"  metrically  opposite  to  them, 
"  could  not  fail  of  growing  very 
"  irksome,  if  not  quite  disgusting; 
"  for  if  there  be  a  being  in  the 
"  creation  to  which,  above  all 
"  others,  the  Muses  bear  an  espe- 
"  cial  antipathy,  it  must  be  a  deep- 
"  read,  plodding,  special  pleader  ; 
"  nor  is  the  sophister  behindhand 
"  in  his  aversion  to  them  ;  how- 
"  ever,  I  thought,  whilst  I  re- 
"  tained  my  occupation  in  the 
"  profession,  the  closest  attention 
"  thereto  was  not  only  a  moral, 
*'  but  a  religious  and  indispensable 
1 '  duty  :  wherefore,  as  I  ever  was 
"  a  most  early  riser  in  the  raorn- 
"  ing,  some  hours  before  many 
"  of  the  men  of  business  in  this 
"  kingdom  have  a  thought  of  stir- 
"  ring,  and  but  very  seldom  wast- 
"  ed  an  evening  in  the  way  that 
"  numbers  of  them  do,  so  that, 
"  in  general,  I  laboured  about 
"  fourteen  hours,  sometimes  fif- 
'*  teen,  of  the  four-and-twenty,  I 
*.'  determined  with  myself,  that 
"  after  nine  or  ten  at  farthest,  in 
"  the  forenoon,  I  would  not  pay 
"  any  further  co'irt  to  the  Muses ; 
"  but,  alas !  I  (band  I  had  under 
"  taken  what  Icouid  not  execute; 
"  an  unfinished  thought  when  I 
"  broke  off  intruded  on  me  whilst 
**  I  walked  the  streets  ;  so  that  I 
"  have  often  slipped  into  shops  and 
"  entries,  and  scribbled  for  mi 
*i  nutes  ;  on  which  account  I  was 
"  actually,  in  the  last  war,  seized 
"  in  the  Castle-yard  by  a  centinel 
"  as  a  spy,  and  brought  to  the 
"  guard-room,  to  the  high  enter- 


H  6  W 

"  tainment  of  all  who  heard  of  if ; 
"  and  many  are  the  accidents  my 
"  limbs  have  met  with  when  in 
"  this  musing  mood. 

*'  Wherefore,  had  it  not  been 
"  for  this  talent  for  poetry,  which, 
"  wherever  it  appears,  however 
"  inferior  it  may  be,  is  undoubt- 
"  edly  inborn,  and  therefore  hard 
"  to  be  suppressed,  I  might  have 
«'  been  worth  many  thousands 
"  more  than  I  have  been  ever  pos- 
"  sessed  of;  for  I  most  solemnly 
"  declare,  that,  at  any  time  of  my 
"  life,  I  had  far  more  pleasure  in 
"  composing  a  single  line  of  ver- 
"  sification  to  my  satisfaction,  than 
"  in  any  pecuniary  earning  what- 
"  ever." 

By  this  time  our  reader  is  be- 
come acquainted  with  the  singu- 
larities, as  well  as  excellencies,  of 
Mr.  Howard.  He  will  not  won- 
der, therefore,  that,  in  spite  of  all 
his  embarrassments  in  the  course 
of  his  poetical  pursuits,  and  legal 
disquisitions,  he  afterwards  adven- 
tured in  the  field  of  politics.  Of 
all  his  literary  campaigns  this  was 
the  most  arduous.  There,  as  a 
loyal  and  courteous  knight,  he  en- 
countered the  windmills  of  ridi- 
cule, and  the  giants  of  opposition. 
There  he  was,  for  years,  over- 
whelmed with  a  torrent  of  wicked 
prose  and  ver->e,  "  in  the  several 
"  volumes  of  the  Bachelor,  Bara- 
"  tarinna,  and  Pranceriana  ;"  and, 
above  all,  "  exposed  and  derided, 
"  by  the  Judas-like  guests  of  his 
"  own  table,  in  a  poetical  satire, 
"  entitled  '  An  Epistle  to  G.  E.  H. 
"  Esq.'byA'dermanGeo'  -•  Faulk- 
'£  ner,  then  printer  of  The  Dublin 
"  Journal !''  For  these,  and  sun- 
dry additional  mortifications,  our 
author  received  little  other  conso- 
lation than  his  freedom  of  the 
city  a  silver  epergne  from  the 
Ir;  b  Catholics,  and  the  occa-» 
bb3 


3M 


IT  O  W 

sional  encomiums  of  bis  friends,Mr. 
James  Solas  Dodd,  and  Mr. Charles 
Macklin,  as  well  as  of  the  several 
"writers  in  the  Magazines  and  Re- 
views of  London,  Edinburgh,  and 
Dublin  j  for  all  which  encomiums 
it  was  maliciously  and  enviously 
asserted,  as  Mr.  Howard  assures 
»us,  in  the  Irish  papers,  that  "  he 
,f  had  paid  five  hundred  pounds." 

Mr.  Howard's  works,  however, 
have  one  claim  to  praise,  which 
ought  not  to  go  unnoticed.  In 
one  of  them  he  says,  that  he  could 
challenge  the  world  to  find  in  any 
of  his  publications,  poetical,  poli- 
tical, or  otherwise,  a  single  syllable 
to  the  prejudice  of  his  neighbour, 
or  to  the  peace  of  society,  in  any 
respect  against  truth,  or  the  strict- 
est principles  of  religion  and  vir- 
tue. 

We  intended  to  have  given  a 
list  of  the  works  of  this  multifa- 
rious writer,  which  amount  to  fif- 
teen volumes,  four  in  quarto,  and 
eleven  in  octavo ;  but  finding  it 
difficult  to  obtain  copies  of  them 
in  England,  we  are  apprehensive 
the  catalogue,  unless  perfect,would 
be  of  little  value. 

The  most  important  of  his  per- 
formances are  his  three  tragedies ; 
viz. 

1 .  Almeyda ;  or,  The  Rival 
Kings.  T.  taken  from  Hawkes- 
worth's  Almoran  and  Hamet.   8vo. 

1769- 

2.  The  Siege  of  Tamor.  T.  8vo. 
and  12mo.  1773. 

3.  The  Female  Gamester.  T. 
12mo.  1779.     Printed  at  Dublin. 

Mr.  Howard  died  in  June  1786, 
at  Dublin,  possessed  of  a  very  con- 
siderable fortune,  wholly  acquired 
by  his  own  industry  and  applica- 
tion. The  newspapers  made  it 
amount  to  no  less  than  60,000/. 

Howard,  the  Hon.  James. 
This  gentleman  was  youngest  son 


HOW 

of  Thomas  Earl  of  Berkshire,  and 
brother  of  Lady  Elizabeth  How- 
ard, wife  of  Mr.  Dryden.  Ha 
wrote  two  plays,  which  were  re- 
presented with  success,  and  held 
in  esteem  in  their  time  5  and  like- 
wise altered  another,  which  was 
frequently  acted.    Their  titles  are, 

1.  All  Mistaken.   C.  4to.  1672. 

2.  The  English  Monsieur.  C.  4to. 
1674. 

3.  Romeo  and  Juliet.  T.  Com. 
N.  P. 

In  regard  to  the  last-mentioned 
piece,  a  more  particular  account 
of  it  may  be  seen  in  the  third  vo- 
lume of  this  work,  under  its  own 
title. 

Howard,  Sir  Roeert.  This 
gentleman  was  brother  to  the  Earl 
of  Berkshire,  and  to  Mr.  Edward 
Howard  before  mentioned1.  His 
mother  was  one  of  tlie  daughters 
and  coheiresses  of  Wiiliam  Lord 
Burghley.  Wood  acquaints  us, 
that  he  received  his  education 
under  Dr.  Edward  Drope,  at  Mag- 
dalen College,  Oxford.  He  was 
not  less  steadily  attached  than  the 
rest  of  his  family  to  the  interests 
of  that  unhappy  monarch  King 
Charles  I.  and,  with  the  rest  of 
them,  suffered  considerably  in  the 
maintaining  his  loyalty  to  that 
cause.  He  had,  however,  the  ho- 
nour of  knighthood  bestowed  on 
him  far  his  gallant  behaviour  in 
rescuing  the  Lord  Wilmot,  lieu- 
tenant-general of  the  King's  forces, 
who  was  wounded  and  taken  pri- 
soner at  Cropredy  Bridge  fight  on 
the  2pth  of  June  lG\i'.  At  the 
Restoration  he  was  chosen  one  of 
the  burgesses,  for  Stockbridge  in 
Hampshire,  to  serve  in  the  Par- 
liament which  began  at  Westmin- 
ster on  the  8th  of  May  l66l ;  and, 
on  the  19th  of  June  1678,  was 
promoted  to  the  place  of  auditor 
of  the   Exchequer,    at  that  time 


375 


HOW 

worth  several  thousand  pounds  per 
aim  am.  But  this  preferment  was 
generally  considered  as  a  reward 
tor  the  services  he  had  done  the 
crown  in  assisting  to  cajole  the 
Parliament  out  of  money.  In 
1679  he  was  elected  member  for 
Castle-Rising,  in  Norfolk;  for 
which  place,  after  the  Revolution 
was  effected,  we  rind  him  sitting 
as  representative  in  the  first  Parlia- 
ment under  King  William  III. ; 
and,  about  the  lOlh  of  Feb.  l6S8, 
he  was  admitted  to  the  privy- 
council,  took  the  oaths,  and  be- 
came a  very  rigid  prosecutor  of  the 


HOW 

to  the  greatest  degree,  in  his  be- 
haviour to  others,  and  possessed 
of  an  insufferable  share  of  vanity 
and  self-sufficiency  in  regard  to 
his  own  abilities,  it  is  not  impro- 
bable that  these  qualities  might 
create  him  an  enmity  among  his 
contemporary  wits,  who  would, 
perhaps,  have  readily  subscribed 
to  the  merits  he  really  possessed, 
had  he  not  seemed  to  aim  at  a 
superiority  which  he  had  no  claim 
to;  in  consequence  of  which  Dry- 
den  wrote  a  severe  criticism  on  his 
Duke  <f  Lerma  ;  Sha  Veil  point- 
ed him  out  under  the  character  of 


Nonjurors,  disclaiming  ali  kind  of  Sir  Positive  Atall,  in  his  comedy 

conversation   or   intercourse    with  called    The  Im pertinents ;  and  the 

any  of  that  character.     The  inci-  Duke   of  Buckingham    intended, 

dents  of  his  life  are  not  very  nu-  and  had  even  made  him,  the  hero 

merous,  or  at  least  not  recorded  ;  of  his  Rehearsal,  under  the  name 

but,  in  l6'-)2,  when  he  can  scarcely  of   Bilboa  ;    although,    after   the 

be  supposed  much  less  than  seventy  play  had  b^en  stopped  from  repre- 

years   of  age,    he    married    Mrs.  sentation  by  the  plague  in  I6Q5, 


Dives,  who  was  one  of  the  maids 
of  honour  to  Queen  Mary.  He 
lived,  however,  several  years  after- 
wards, and  died  on  the  3d  Sept. 
I698. 

With  respect  to  Sir  Robert 
Howard's  abilities,  they  appear  to 
have  occasioned  debates  among  the 
writers;  Langbaine,  Jacob,  and 
Gildon,  speaking  in  \ery  warm 
terms  in  his  commendation;  while 
Cibber,  on  the  contrary,  will  al- 
low him  no  higher  claim  to  notice 
in  the  republic  of  letters,  than  that 
of  being  brother-in-law  toDryden. 
It  is  true,  indeed,  that  some  of  his 


that  nobleman  altered  his  plan, 
and  pointed  the  artillery  of  his  sa- 
tire against  a  much  greater  name, 
in  the  character  of  Bayes,  retain- 
ing only  some  rew  strokes  against 
Sir  Robert,  in  parodies  on  certain 
passages  in  his  plays.  Yet,  not- 
withstanding all  this  virulence 
against  him,  we  cannot  look  on 
him  as  an  author  devoid  of  genius- 
since  two  of  his  pieces,  viz.  The  ' 
Indian  Queen  and  The  Committee, 
continued  for  a  long  time  favour- 
ites with  the  public  ;  and  the  lat- 
ter, even  in  our  time,  when  the 
species  of  character  against  which 


contemporary  writers,  and  those  of  the  satire  of  it  is  principally  aim 
eminence  too,'  among  whom  were  ed,  viz.  the  Roundheads  and  puri 
Mr.  Dryden  himself,    Mr.  Shad-    tanical  zealots,  is  totally  abolished 


well,  and  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, have  pretty  rigidly  handled 
him  and  his  works  :  uut,  as  it  is 
generally  acknowledged  that  Sir 
Robert  was  a  man  of  a  very  obsti- 
nate and  positive  t  jmper,  super- 
cilious, haughty,  and  overbearing, 


and  forgotten  among  us,  has  been 
frequently  performed,  and  never 
made  its  appearance  without  giving 
satisfaction  to  the  audience,  and 
producing  all  the  effects  which  the 
true  vis  comica  ever  has  on  the 
mind :  a  certain  sign  that  the  piece 
bb  4 


376 

H  O  W  H  O  W 

must  possess  some,  if  not  a  rapi-  of  prohibited  goods  having  been 

tal,  share  of   merit.     His    list  of  found  in  it. 

dramatic  pieces  is  confined  to  se-  During  his  absence  he  was  clert- 

ven  in  number,  viz.  ed,  in  10''23,  fellow  of  Jesus  Col- 

J.  Blind  Lady.    C.    8vo.  ltiOO.  lege,  and,   being   in    favour  with 

2.   Surprisal.     C.     Fol.  10'65.  Emanuel  Lord  Scroop,  lord  prcsi- 


3.  Committee.     C.     Fol.  10"(J5. 

4.  Vestal  Virgin.  T.  Fol.  l6e>5. 

5.  Indian  Queen.  T.  Fol.  ],(io'5. 
0\  Great  Favourite ;  or,  The  Duke 

ofLcrma.     T.     4to.  1C"68. 

7-  The  Conquest  of  China.  Tr. 
N.  P. 

Howell,  James.  This  gen- 
tleman was  born  about  the  latter 
end  of  June  or  beginning  of  July 
I594,  at  Abermarlis,  in  Caermar- 


dent  of  the  North,  was  by  him 
appointed  his  secretary,  on  his 
return.  This  post  calling  him  to 
reside  at  York,  he  formed  such  an 
interest  in  that  county,  as  to  pro- 
cure his  being  elected  burgess  for 
the  corporation  of  Richmond,  by 
the  suffrages  of  the  mayor  and  al- 
dermen of  that  corporation,  to  sit 
in  the  Parliament  which  began  at 
Westminster  in  1627  ;  and,  in  the 


thenshire,  South  Wales;  of  which  year  1631,  was  made  secretary  to 

place  his  father,  at  that  time,  was  Robert  Earl  of  Leicester,  who  was 

minister.      He  received   the  first  appointed    ambassador   extraordi- 

part  of  his  education  and  grammar  nary  at  the  court  of  Copenhagen, 

learning    at     the    free-school     of  on  a  commission   of  condolement 


Hereford ;  from  whence,  before 
he  was  quite  sixteen  years  of  age, 
he  was  sent  to  Jes-n*  College,  in 
Oxford.  Here  he  finished  his 
academical  studies,  and  took  the 
degree  of  master  of  arts.  On  his 
quitting  the  university,  he  ac- 
quired the  esteem  and  friendship 
of  Sir  Robert  Mansel ;  by  whose 
means,  together  with  some  small 


on  the  death  of  King  Charles  I.'s 
grandmother,  Sophia,  Queen-dow- 
ager of  Denmark ;  on  which  oc- 
casion Mr.  Howell  very  eminently 
distinguished  himself  by  several 
speeches  delivered  in  Latin  before 
the  King  of  Denmark,  setting  forth 
the  occasion  of  the  embassy. 

On    his   return  to  England,  he 
was  put  into  many  beneficial  em- 


assistances  from  his  father,  he  was  ployments,  and,  about  the  begin- 
enabled,  in  the  year  l6l8,  to  go  ning  of  the  civil  war,  was  appoint- 
abroad,  where  he  continued  three  ed,  by  King  Charles  I.  one  of  the 
years,  on  his  travels  through  clerks  of  the  privy  council.  But, 
France,  Italy,  and  the  Low  Coun-  although  these  posts  were  equally 
tries,  by  which  he  made  himself  lucrative  and  honourable,  he  does 
perfectly  master  of  the  living  Ian-  not  seem  to  have  been  master  of 
guages,  and  every  other  branch  of  much  economy  ;  for  when,  in  the 
useful   knowledge;   and,  so  great  year  1043,  he  was   seized  by  the 


was  the  reputation  of  his  abilities, 
that,  soon  after  his  return,  he  was 
made  choice  of  by  King  James  I. 
to  be  sent  on  a  negotiation  to  the 
court  of  Madrid,  for  the  recovery 
of  the  Spanish  Monarch,  a  very 
rich  English  ship,  which  had  been 
seized  by  the  viceroy  of  Sardinia, 
for  his  master's  use,  under  pretence 


committee  of  Parliament,  and  sent 
lo  the  Fleet  Prison,  wbv-«*e,  by  the 
course  of  his  letters,  it  5  evident 
he  continued  till  after  the  death  of 
the  King,  we  find  he  was  obliged 
to  have  recourse  to  his  pen  for  a 
subsistence,  which  at  that  time, 
before  the  trade  of  authorship  had 
been  so  hackneyed  as  of  late  years 


377 


HOW 

it  has  b?en,  was  no  despicable  em- 
ployment j  and  Wood  tt-lls  us,  that 
it  brought  him  in  a  very  comfort- 
able subsistence. 

This  long;  and  disagreeable  con- 
finement,  together  with  the  nar- 
rowness of  his  circumstances,  and 
the  laborious  manner  in  which  he 
was  compelled  to  provide  lor  him- 
self, seemed  to  have  shaken  the 
firmness  of  Mr.  Howell's  political 
attachments;  for,  during  the  re- 
bellion, we  find  him  temporizing 
with  the  prevailing  party,  and  in- 
clinable to  enter  into  their  mea- 
sures ;  for  which  reason,  though 
they  seem  not  to  have  accepted  of 
his  services,  yet,  at  the  Restora- 
tion, he  was  not  reinstated  in  his 
place  of  clerk  of  the  council,  but 
only  appointed  the  king's  historio- 
grapher, being  the  first  in  England 
who  ever  bore  that  title.  But  this 
being  a  place  of  no  great  emolu- 


HUG 

tory,  more  especially  that  of  the 
countries  through  which  he  had 
travelled.  His  letters  are  ex- 
tremely entertaining,  and  convey 
anecdotes  and  observations  that 
might  by  no  other  means  have 
been  handed  down  to  us,  and 
speak  their  author  to  have  been  no 
bad  politician.  And  as  to  poetry, 
though  he  has  been  little  more 
than  a  dabbler  in  it,  yet  he  has  a 
considerable  share  of  fancy,  and 
his  numbers  are  smoother  and 
more  harmonious  than  those  of 
most  of  the  writers  of  that  time. 
He  lies  buried  on  the  north  side  of 
the  Temple  church,  with  the  fol- 
lowing inscription  over  him,  pro- 
bably written  by  himself  in  his 
life-time. 

Jacobus  Howell,  Camtro-Bri- 
t annus,  Regius  Historiographies  (in 
Anglia  primus)  ;  qui,  post  varias 
peregrirwliones,  tandem  natures  cur- 
sum  peregit ;    satur    annorum   & 

ue 


ment,  he  was  obliged  to  continue 

his   trade  of  writing  to   the  last,   fames,   domi,  forisque,   hue  usq 
He  lived  to  an  advanced  age,  and    erraticus  ;   hiefxus.     l6(jfc> 
died  in  the  beginning  of  Novem- 
ber l(x>6,  being  then  in  his  73d 
year. 

As  he  was  almost  one  of  the  first 
among  our  English  authors  who 
introduced  writing  for  a  liveli- 
hood, so  is  he  likewise  one  among 
the  most  voluminous  of  those  who 
have  applied  the  advantages  of 
literature  to  that  purpose;  having 
written  and  translated  no  less  than 
forty-nine  several  books,  exclusive 
of  one  dramatic  piece,  which  he 
wrote  while  he  was  at  Paris,  and 
which  was  presented  there  at  court 
no  less  than  six  times  by  the  King 
and  grandees  in  person,  entitled 

Nuptials  of  Peleus  and  Thetis. 
Com.  and  Masque.     4to.  l£)54. 

Mr.  Howell  was,  undoubtedly, 
a  man  of  most  extensive  know- 
ledge, a  most  perfect  linguist,  and 
very  well  versed  in  modern  his- 


Huggins,  William,  was  the 
son  of  John  Huggins,  Esq.  warden 
of  the  Fleet.  Being  intended  for 
holy  orders,  he  was  sent  to  Mag- 
dalen College,  Oxford,  where  he 
took  the  degree  of  M.  A.  April  30, 
1719.  It  is  probable  he  did  not 
long  persevere  'in  his  intention  of 
entering  into  the  church ;  as  on 
the  271I1  of  October  1/21,  he  was 
appointed  wardrobe-keeper  and 
keeper  of  the  private  lodgings  at 
Hampton  Court;  and  on  the 
death  of  his  elder  brother,  it  may- 
be presumed,  he  totally  laid  aside 
every  idea  of  following  the  clerical 
profession.  He  translated  and  pub- 
lished an  edition  of  Ariosto,  in  two 
quarto  volumes,  which  he  after- 
wards caused  to  be  destroyed.  He 
also  left  in  MS.  at  the  time  of 
his  death,  July  2,  1/6 1,  a  tragedy, 
a  farce,  and  a  translation  of  Dante, 


3/8 


HUG 

of  which  a  specimen  was  pub- 
lished in  The  British  Magazine, 
l/6o.     He  was  the  author  of 

Judith.     Orat.     8vo.   1/33. 

Hughes,  John.  This  amiable 
man,  and  elegant  author,  was  the 
sou  of  a  citizen  of  London,  and 
was  born  at  Marlborough,  in  Wilt- 
shire, on  the  2()th  of  Jan.  JO'77, 
but  received  the  rudiments  of  his 
education  in  private  schools  at 
London.  Even  in  the  very  earliest 
parts  of  life  his  genius  seemed  to 
show  itself  equally  inclined  to  each 
of  the  three  sister  arts,  musi 
poetry,  and  design,  in  all  which  he 
made  a  very  considerable  progress. 
To  his  excellence  in  these  quali- 
fications, his  contemporary  and 
friend,  Sir  Richard  Steele,  bears 
the  following  extraordinary  testi- 
monial :  '•  He  may  (says  that  au- 
"  thor)  be  the  emulation  of  more 
««  persons  of  different  u.  e  ts  than 
««  any  one  I  have  ever  known. 
"  His  head,  hands,  or  heart,  were 
ee  always  employe.!  in  something 
"worthy  imitation.     His   pencil, 


HUG 

curing  the  docks  and  harbours  at 
Portsmouth,  Chatham,  and  Har- 
wich. 

In  the  year  3  71 7  the  Lord  Chan- 
cellor Cowper,  to  whom  our  au- 
thor had  not  long  been  known, 
thought  proper,  without  any  pre- 
vious solicitation,  to  nominate  him 
his  secretary  for  the  commissions 
of  the  peace,  and  to  distinguish 
him  with  singular  marks  or  his 
favour  and  affection  5  and,  upon 
his  Lordship's  laying  down  the 
great  seal,  he  was,  at  the  particular 
recommendation  of  this  his  patron, 
and  with  the  ready  concurrence  of 
his  successor  the  Earl  of  Maccles- 
field, continued  in  the  same  em- 
ployment, which  he  held  till  the 
time  of  his  decease,  the  ]7'h  of 
Feb.  1719>  being  the  very  night 
on  which  his  celebrated  tragedy  of 
TIi?  Siege  of  Damascus  made  its  lirst 
appearance  on  the  stage ;  when, 
after  a  life  mostly  spent  in  pain 
and  sickness,  he  was  carried  off  by 
a  consumption,  having  but  barely 
completed  his  42d  year,    and   at 


his   bow,  or   his   pen,  each   of    a  period  in  which  he  had  just  ar- 
"  which   he   used   in  a   masterly    rived  at  an  agreeable  competence, 


et  manner,  were  always  directed  to 
f  raise  and  entertain  his  own  mind, 
""  or  that  of  others,  to  a  more 
('  cheerful  prosecution  of  what  is 
<(  noble  and  virtuous."  Such  is 
the  evidence  borne  to  his  talents 
by  a  writer  of  the  first  rank ;  yet 
he  seems,  for  the  most  part,  to 
have  pursued  these  and  other  po- 


and  was  advancing,  with  rapid 
steps,  towards  the  pinnacle  of  fame 
and  fortune.  He  was  privately 
buried  in  the  vault  under  the  chan- 
cel of  St.  Andrew's  church,  in  Hol- 
born. 

As  a  man,  the  worthy  mention 
made  of  him  by  numbers  of  his 
contemporary  writers  is  sufficient 


lite  studies  little  further  than  by  to  give  us  the  most  exalted  idea  of 

the  way  of  agreeable  amusements,  his  virtues  ;  and,  as  a  writer,  no 

under  frequent  confinement,  occa-  stronger  proof  can  he  offered  of  the 

sioned  by  indisposition  and  a  vale-  esteem  he  was  held  in  by  the  truest 

tudinarian  state  of  health.  judges  of  poetry,  than  to  mention, 

Mr.  Hughes  had,  for  some  time,  that  the  great  Mr.  Addison,  after 

an  employment,   in  the  office   of  having  suffered  the  first  four  acts 

ordnance,    and   was   secretary   to  of  his  tragedy  to  lie  by  him  for 

two  or  three  commissions  under  several  years,  without  putting  the 

the  great  seal  for  the  purchase  of  finishing  hand   to   the   piece,    at 

lauds,  in  order  to  the  better  se-  length  fixed  on  Mr.  Hughes,  whom 


379 


HUG 

he  earnestly  persuaded  to  under- 
take the  task,  as  the  only  person 
capable  of  adding  a  fifth  act  to  it. 
And  though  that  author  afterwards 
thought  proper  to  undertake  it 
himself,  yet  it  was  by  no  means 
from  any  diffidence  of  this  gentle- 
man's abilities ;  but  from  the  just 
reflection  that  no  one  could  have 
so  perfect  a  notion  of  his  design 
as  himself,  who  had  been  so  long 
and  so  carefully  thinking  of  it. 

Our  author's  poetical  works  are 
numerous ;  but  it  is  not  car  inten- 
tion in  this  place  to  take  notice  of 
any  but  his  dramatic  writings, 
which  are  as  follow : 

1.  The  Misanthrope.    C.    1/(X). 

2.  Calypso  and  Ttlemachus.  O. 
Svo.  1/12. 

3.  Apollo  and  Daphne.  M.  4to. 
1716. 

4.  Orestes.  T.  from  Euripides. 
One  scene  only.     Svo.  1717. 

5.  The  Siege  of  Damascus.  T. 
Svo.  1720. 

6.  Tke  Miser.  C.  from  Moliere. 
The  first  act  only. 

7.  Cupid  and  Hymen.    Past.  M. 
The   last   two   were   originally 

printed  in  his  works,  2  vols.  12mo. 
1/35. 

8.  Amalasont,  Queen  of  the  Goths. 
T.  Written  in  \QqQ,  at  the  age  of 
nineteen.     Still  in  MS. 

9.  Sophy  Mirzd.  T.  still  in  MS. 
Mr.  Hughes  wrote  two  acts  of 
this  play,  which  was  finished  by 
Mr.  Duncombe. 

Hughes,  Mrs.  Of  this  lady 
we  have  no  other  knowledge  than 
as  a  poet  and  novelist.  She  pub- 
lished a  volume  of  Poems,  consist- 
ing of  Eclogues,  Pastoral  Ballads, 
Inscriptions,  and  a  Legendary  Tale, 
Svo.  17S4 ;  Caroline,  or,  The  Di- 
versities cf  Fortune,  a  novel,  3  vols. 
12mo.  1737  ;  Henry  and  Isabella, 
a  novel,  4  vols.  12mo.  17SS.  In 
1790  she  gave  the  public,  Moral 


HUE 

Dramas,  intended  for  private  re- 
presentation, in  one  volume  Svo. 
containing, 

1.  Cordelia.     T. 

2.  Constantia.     T. 

3.  Aspacia.     T. 

Hughes,  Thomas,  was  the 
author  of  one  very  ancient  play, 
entitled 

The  Misfortunes  of  Arthur. 
12mo.  15S7. 

Huish,  Robert,  is  the  trans- 
lator from  Klopstock  of 

Solomon.     Sac.  Dr.    Svo.  ISOg. 

Hull,  Thomas,  was  born  in 
1723,  in  the  Strand,  where  his 
father  was  inconsiderable  practice 
as  an  apothecary.  He  was  edu- 
cated at  the  Charterhouse,  with  a 
view  to  the  church  ;  but  afterward 
embraced  his  father's  profession  j 
which,  however,  he  was  obliged 
to  relinquish  after  an  unsuccessful 
trial.  He  now  took  to  the  stage, 
and  appeared  first  at  the  theatre  in 
Smock  Alley,  Dublin,  and  then 
at  that  of  Bath ;  of  which  latter 
he  afterwards  conducted  the  ma- 
nagement for  Mr.  John  Palmer. 
In  1759  he  removed  to'  Covent 
Garden,  where  he  first  appeared 
as  the  Elder  Wou'd-be,  in  The 
Twin  Rivals,  Oct.  4;  and  the  next 
year  married  Miss  Morrison,  of 
that  company. 

A  theatrical  fund,  for  the  relief 
of  distressed  performers,  was  long 
talked  of;  but  never  begun  until 
Mrs.  Hamilton,  a  once  eminent 
actress,  was  reduced  to  extreme 
poverty.  This  appeared  a  favour- 
able crisis;  and  Mr.  Hull  stepped 
boldly  forward,  called  a  meeting 
of  the  children  of  Theepis,  and 
addressed  them  on  the  expediency 
of  making  some  provision  for  the 
sustenance  of  those  who,  by  age 
or  misfortune,  might  be  reduced 
to  want:  the  scheme  succeeded, 
and  it  was  agreed  that  sixpence  x    ■ 


390 


H  U  L 

tiie  pound  should  be  paid  out  of 
the  weekly  salaries  towards  raising 
a  fund  for  that  purpose.  The; 
same  plan  was  adopted  at  Drury 
Lane,  where  Mr.  Garrick  per- 
formed annually  for  its  benefit. 

The  founding  of  this  excellent 
institution  must  perpetuate  the  phi- 
lanthropy of  Mr.  Hull,  who  like- 
wise claimed  an  honourable  rank 
among  literary  men,  for  the  seve- 
ral dramatic  pieces  which  lie  pro- 
duced. 

In  1775,  when  Mr.  Colman  re- 
linquished the  management  of  Co- 
vent  Garden  theatre,  the  better  to 
attend  the  Haymarket,  which  was 
his  sole  property,  Mr.  Hull  was 
appointed  to  conduct  the  business 
in  his  stead  ;  a  situation  which  he 
rilled  with  great  credit  for  eight 
years ;  when,  finding  it  too  laborious 
for  his  constitution,  he  resigned  it ; 
and  Mr.  Lewis  was  chosen  for  his 
successor.  Mr.  Hull,  however, 
though  considerably  advanced  in 
years,  still  officiated  with  reputa- 
tion in  the  theatre.  His  parts 
were  latterly  confined  to  aged  fa- 
thers. In  such  characters  as  Bra- 
bantio,  Acasto,  Priuli,  Friar  Law- 
rence, Sir  John  Flowerdale,  S:c. 
he  was  precisely  what  they  were 
designed  to  be. 

As  a  writer,  he  was  undoubtedly 
respectable.  His  versification  is 
easy,  chaste,  and  correct.  His 
prose  composition  is  perspicuous, 
pointed,  and  sometimes  elegant. 
He  was  the  intimate  friend  of  the 
late  Mr.  Shenstnne,  whose  letters 
he  published.  He  also  preserved 
the  friendship  of  many  eminent 
persons,  literary  as  well  as  others, 
and  certainly  no  man  more  de- 
served it. 

Mr.  Hull  was  author  of  The 
History  of  Sir  William  Harrington, 
0  novel,  4  vols  17/1  ;  reprinted 
1797.     Genuine    Letters  from    a 


H  U  L 
Gentleman  to  a  young  Lady,  his  ' 
Pupil,  2  vols.  12mo.  1772.  Ri- 
chard Plantagenet,  a  legendary 
tale,  4to.  1774.  Select  Letters  be- 
tween  the  late  Dutchess  of  Somer- 
set, &c.  2  vols.  Svo.  1778.  Moral 
Tales  in  Verse,  2  vols.  8vo.  1 7Q7. 

Mr.  Hull  always  deported  him- 
self with  exemplary  propriety  in 
private  life,  and  at  least  with  good 
sense  on  the  stage ;  and  was  the 
author  and  reformer  of  the  fol- 
lowing pieces: 

1.  The  Twins.  C.  1762.  N.  P.  • 

2.  The  Absent  Man.  F.  1764. 
N.  P. 

,     3.  Pharnaccs.     O.     8vo.  \~65. 

4.  The  Spanish  Lady.  M.  E. 
8vo.  1765. 

5.  All  in  the  Right.  F.  1766. 
N.  P. 

6.  The  Perplexities.  C.  from 
Tnke.     Svo.  176/. 

7.  The  Fairy  Favour.  M.  8vo. 
1707. 

8.  The  Royal  Merchant.  O. 
from  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  Svo. 
1708. 

9.  The  Prodigal  Son.  Oratorio. 
4to.  1773. 

10.  Henry  the  Second;  or,  The 
Fall  of  Rosamond.    T.    Svo.  1 774. 

1  1 .  Edward  and  Eleonora.  T. 
from  Thomson.     Svo.  1775. 

12.  Love  finds  the  Way.  C.  O. 
1777-    N.P. 

13.  Iphigcnia.  T.   I778.     N.P. 

14.  Fatal  Interview.  T.  1782. 
N.P. 

15.  True  British  Tar.  M.  P. 
1786.     1ST.  P. 

16.  Timon  of  Athens.  T.  alter- 
ed.    1786.     N.P. 

17  .The  Comedy  of Errors.  From 
Shakspeare.     Svo.  1793. 

19.  Disinterested  Love.  C.  I79S. 
N.  P. 

10.  Elisha.     Orat.     8vo.  1801. 

The  author  of  The  Children  of 
Thespis,  a  poem,  says,  in  a  note, 


331 
HUM 

•'  There  is  one  circumstance  al- 
"  most  peculiar  to  Mr.  Hull  ;   he 
"  never  missed  playing  his  part  but 
"  once,  and  then  he  was  confined 
"  to   his   bed   by  a  violent  fever. 
"  For  several  years  he  was  deputy- 
"  manager  of  Covent  Garden  the- 
"  atje,  and  always  valued  himself 
"  upon  his  address  at  making  apo- 
"  logies  to  the  public  for  the  ac- 
"  cidental  calamities  of  the  even- 
"  ing;  and  this  habit  was  so  deeply 
"  rooted  in  his  nature,  that  when 
"  the  fanatic  mobassailedhis  house 
"  in  the  time  of  the  ever-memo- 
"  rable   riots    in   June   \1bQ,    in 
"  order  to  appease  their  rage,  he 
*'  sent  them  out  a  barrel  of  table- 
"  beer,  untapped,  which  they  ima- 
"  gining   to  be   porter,   instantly 
"  drew  the  bung  5  but  expressing 
"  much  resentment  at  the  deceit, 
"  and  throwing  some  stones  at  the 
"  comedian's  mansion,  he  appear- 
if  ed  at  the  centre  window  of  the 
"  one  pair  of  stairs  room,  with  his 
f*  velvet  nightcap,  and,  after  mak- 
"  ing  three  low  bows,  addressed 
"  the  children   of  plunder  thus : 
"  '  Ladies  and  gentlemen,   upon 
"  my  honour,  I  have  sent  to  Gif- 
"  fard's  brewhouse  for  some  por- 
'.'  ter  j  in  the  mean   time  I  must 
"  humbly   solicit  your   usual  in- 
"  dulgence'." 

Mr.  Hull  died,  at  his  house  near 
Dean's  Yard,  Westminster,  April 
32,  1S08,  in  the  81st  year  of  his 
age. 

Humphreys, Colonel  David. 
This  gentleman  is  an  American, 
and  appears  by  his  works  to  have 
taken  a  very  active  part  in  the  re- 
sistance made  by  the  colonies  to 
the  claims  of  the  mother-country. 
He  has  published  an  Svo.  volume, 
printed  at  New  York,  1790,  con- 
taining miscellaneous  poems,  a  life 
of  General  Putnam,  and  one  play, 
called 


HUN 

The  Widow  of  Malabar.     T. 
Humphreys,  Mr.  is  known  to 
us  only  as  author  of, 

1.  Deborah.     Orat.    4to.  173i 
■2.  Esther.     Orat.     4to.  1/32. 

3.  Alhaliah.    Orat.    4to    1/33. 

4.  Ulysses.     Op.     4to.  1/33. 
He  died  at  Canonbury,  Jan.  11, 

1738,  aged  about  40.  (Bibliotheca 
Topographica  Britannica,  No.  49, 
p.  32!) 

Hunt,  William.  This  gen- 
tleman, we  understand,  was  a 
collector  of  excise,  and  wrote  one 
play,  which  was  acted  and  printed 
at  York,  entitled 

The  Fall  of  Tarquin.  T.  12 ma 
1/13. 

Whincop  informs  us,  that  it  is 
a  most  wretched  piece  ;  and,  as 
a  specimen  of  its  merit,  quotes  us 
the  following  very  extraordinary 
line : 

"  And  the  tall  trees  stood  circling  in  a 
ra:v." 

Hunter,  Geo.  M.  A  person 
of  this  name  was  author  of 

Louis  and  Antoinette.  T.  8vo. 
1794. 

Hunter,  Governor.  In  the 
title-page  of  the  only  copy  that  we 
have  seen  of  the  play  after  men- 
tioned, which  is  now  in  the  col- 
lection of  John  Philip  Kemble.Esq. 
Coxeter  has  put  the  name  of  Go- 
vernor Hunter  as  the  author.  This 
gentleman,  we  imagine,  was  Co- 
lonel Robert  Hunter,  who,  in  the 
year  1/10,  was  sent  to  the  govern- 
ment of  New  York  with  27GO 
Palatines  to  settle  there.  He  had 
been  appointed  lieutenant-gover- 
nor of  Virginia,  but  was  taken  ly 
the  French  in  his  voyage  thither. 
From  New  York  he  went  to  Eng- 
land in  1719  5  and,  upon  the  ac- 
cession of  George  the  Second,  was 
continued  Governor  of  New  York 
and  the  Jerseys.     Upon  account 


382 


H  U  R 

of  bis  health,  he  obtained  the  go- 
vernment of  Jamaica,  where  he 
arrived  February  1727 -S,  and  died 
March  31,  1734.  The  piece  of 
•which  he  is  declared  by  Coxeter 
to  be  the  author  15  called 

Ancboloroi.  F.  4to. 
He  was  also  author  of  the  cele- 
brated Letter  on  Enthusiasm ,  which 
has  been  ascribed  to  Swift,  and 
still  more  commonly  to  the  Earl  of 
Shaftesbury. 

Hunter,  Johx.  Mr.  Oulton 
ascribes  to  a  person  of  this  name 

The  Wanderer  and  Traveller. 
Relig.  Drama.     Svo.  1/33. 

Hurdis,  James,  D.  D.  was 
born  at  Bishopstcne,  in  Sussex,  in 
the  year  1703.  He  was  the  third 
child,  and  only  son,  of  James 
Hurdis,  Gent.'  His  father  dying, 
and  leaving  his  mother  in  no  af- 
fluent circumstances,  with  seven 
children,  our  author  was  at  her 
expense  sent  to  school  in  the  city 
-of  Chichester,  at  the  age  of  eight 
years  ;  first  under  the  tuition  of 
the  Rev.  Richard  Tireman,  and 
afterwards  under  the  Rev.  John 
Atkinson,  for  whose  memory  and 
literary  abilities  he  had  the  highest 
veneration  :  and  as  a  mark  of  Mr. 
Atkinson's  esteem  for  his  pupil, 
he  bequeathed  to  him  at  his  death 
a  handsome  legacy  of  valuable 
books.  Here  our  author  also  ex- 
perienced the  protection  of  his 
uncle,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Hurdis, 
D.  D.  canon-residentiary  of  Chi- 
chester, and  canon  of  Windsor. 

Being  of  a  delicate  frame  and 
constitution,  our  author  seldom 
partook  in  the  juvenile  sports  of 
his  school-companions  ;  but  gene- 
rally employed  his  hours  of  leisure 
in  reading  such  books  as  are  more 
attractive  to  a  youth  who  has  an 
e/irly  passion  for  literature.  His 
inclination  to  poetry  soon  made  its 
appearance  in  many  poetical  cum-. 


H  U  R 


positions ;    among  which    was  a 
Tragedy  of  five  acts,  entitled 

Pan  then, 
founded  on  the  story  in  Xenophon's 
Cyrojuvdia.     This  was  afterwards 
transformed  into  a  poem. 

In  17SO  he  was  entered  a  com- 
moner of  St.  Mary  Hall,  Oxford  ; 
and  at  the  election  in  17S2  was 
chosen  a  demy  of  St.  Mary  Mag- 
dalen College.  At  the  commence- 
ment of  every  vacation,  he  re- 
turned to  his  mother  at  Flishop- 
stone  ;  and  devoted  this  interval  of 
relaxation  from  his  own  studies,  to 
the  assiduous  instruction  of  his 
four  younger  sisters  in  those 
branches  of  literature  which  he 
thought  might  be  most  beneficial 
to  them.  About  the  year  1/S4  he 
went  to  Stanmer,  in  Sussex,  where 
he  resided  for  a  considerable  time 
as  tutor  to  the  late  Earl  of  Chi- 
chester'., youngest  son,  Mr.  Geo. 
Pelham,  now  the  Right  Rev.  Lord 
Bishop  of  Bristol.  In  May  1785, 
having  obtained  the  degree  of  ba^ 
chelor  of  arts,  he  retired  to  the 
curacy  of  Burwash,  in  Sussex; 
his  rector  being  the  Rev.  John 
Courtnil,  archdeacon  of  Lewes. 
In  this  situation  he  resided  six 
years.  In  1786  he  was  elected 
probationer  fellow  of  Magdalen 
College;  and. the  following  year 
took  his  master  of  arts  degree. 
Now  finding  himself  sufficiently 
enabled  to  assist  his  mother  in  the 
support  of  her  fa  niiy,  he  hired  a 
small  house,  and  took  three  of  his 
sisters  to  reside  with  him.  It  was 
about  this  time  that  our  author 
first  appeared  before  the  public  as 
a  poet.  In  1 783  he  published  his 
Village  Curate,  the  reception  of 
which  far  exceeded  his  expecta^ 
tions ;  a  second  edition  being 
called  for  the  following  year,  and 
afterwards  a  third,  and  a  fourth  ; 
which   last  he    considerably  im» 


3  S3 


HUR 

proved.  His  second  production 
was  a  poem,  entitled  Adriano  ;  or, 
The  First  of  June j  which  was  fol- 
lowed in  a  short  time  by  three 
©ther  poems,  Panthea,  Elmer  and 
Ophelia,  and  The  Orphan  Twins. 
He  next  proceeded  on  a  biblical 
research,  in  comparing  the  Hebrew 
with  the  English  version  of  the 
Bible,  and  published,  in  1/90,  A 
critical  Dissertation  on  the  true 
Meaning  of  the  Hebrew  Word 
B'J'Jnn,  found  in  Genesis,  i.  21. 

In  1791,  through  the  interest  of 
the  Earl  of  Chichester,  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  living  of  Bishop- 
stone.  In  this  year  he  wrote  his 
tragedy  of  Sir  Thomas  More  ;  and 
Ins  Select  Critical  Remarks  upon 
the  English  Version  of  the  first  Ten 
Chapters  of  Genesis.  But  here  a 
sudden  and  melancholy  incident 
occurred,  which  for  a  time  en- 
tirely abstracted  the  mind  of  our 
author  from  every  literary  pursuit. 
In  1/92  he  was  deprived  by  death 
of  his  favourite  sister  Catharine, 
■whose  elegancies  of  mind  are  so 
frequently  portrayed  in  his  works, 
under  the  different  appellations  of 
Margaret  and  Isabel.  On  this  af- 
fliction he  quitted  his  curacy,  and 
with  his  two  sisters  returned  to 
Bishopstone. 

In  1/92  he  published  Cursory 
Remarks  upon  the  Arrangement  of 
the  Plays  of  Shahs peare,  occasioned 
by  reading  Air.  Malone's  Essay  on 
the  Chronological  Order  of  those 
celebrated  Pieces.  Mr.  Cowper,  in 
a  letter  to  the  author,  speaks  of 
the  above  publication  as  follows : 
"  I  have  read  your  Cursory  Re- 
"  marks,  and  am  much  pleased 
"  both  with  the  style  and  the  ar- 
**  gument."  In  April  1793  he 
went  to  Oxford,  and,  with  two  of 
his  sisters,  resided  in  a  small  house 
at  Temple  Cowley.  In  November, 
the  same  year,  he  was  elected  Pro- 

VOB.  1. 


HUR 


fessor  of  Poetry  in  that  university ; 
and  in  the  year  following  took  the 
degree  of  bachelor  in  divinity.  On 
being  elected  Professor,  he  pub- 
lished A  Specimen  of  some  intended 
Lectures  on  English  Poetry.  And 
it  was  in  this  year  that  he  wrote 
his  Tears  of  Afj'eclion  ;  a  poem  oc- 
casioned by  the  lingering  regret 
which  he  still  experienced  from 
the  death  of  his  favourite  sister. 

In  1797  he  took  the  degree 
of  Doctor  in  Divinity ;  and,  in 
1799*  married  Harriet,  daughter  of 
Hughes  Minet,  Esq.  of  Fulham, 
Middlesex.  In  1800  he  printed, 
at  his  own  private  press,  his  Fa- 
vourite Village;  and  the  same  year 
published  his  Twelve  Dissertations 
on  the  Nature  and  Occasion  of  Psalm 
and  Prophecy. 

On  Saturday,  Dec.  19,  1801, 
he  went  to  Buckland,  in  Berk- 
shire ;  and  on  the  day  following 
performed  the  whole  of  divine  ser- 
vice at  that  church.  On  the  Mon- 
day evening  he  was  attacked  with 
a  violent  shivering,  similar  to  that 
of  an  ague- fit.  On  the  Tuesday  he 
was  unable  to  rise  from  his  bed, 
complaining  of  great  inability,  and 
heaviness  upon  his  eyes,  which, 
prevented  him  from  opening  them. 
Every  medical  assistance  was  pro- 
cured ;  but  to  little  effect,  as  he 
expired,  apparently  in  a  sound 
sleep,  on  the  Wednesday  evening, 
in  his  3Sth  year,  at  the  house  of 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Rathbone.  His  body, 
by  his  own  desire,  was  conveyed 
to  Bishopstone,  and  placed  in  the 
family  vault,  close  by  tiiat  of  his 
sister  Catharine. 

He  left  a  widow  and  two  sons  j 
also  a  posthumous  daughter,  bora 
August  1802. 

His  dramas  (both  of  which  have 
already  been  mentioned)  are, 

l.Panthsa.     Trag.     N.  P. 

2.  Sir  Thomas  More.  T.  S  vo.  1 792. 
E  b  £ 


3S4 


HYD  HYL 

Hurlstone,  Thomas,  one  of  "  orntors  who  distinguish  therfi- 

the  proprietors   of   The  Morning  "  selves   in  any  faction  ;  but  the 

Herald,  is  author  of  the  following  "  tinsel  of  popularity  and  the  in- 

•Iramas :  "  trinsic  of  corruption  were  equal- 

1.  Just  in  Time.     C.  O.     8vo.  "  ly  his  contempt.    He  spoke,  nor 
1/92.  "  wrote,  nor  acted,  for  fame.     As 

2.  To  Arms.     Mus.  Int.     8vo.  "  goodness  was  the  object  and  end 
1?94.  "  of  ail  his  actions,  can  that  life 

3.  Crotchet  Lodge.  F.  8vo.  1 795.  "  be  obscure  ?  can  those  writings 
Hurst,  Robert.    Of  this  gen-  "  which   breathe  his  soul   not  be 


tleman  we  know  nothing,  but  that 
he  was  an  officer,  and  the  author 
of  one  play,  which  was  acted  with 
no  very  great  success,  entitled 


"  valuable,  when  we  are  assured 
"  by  the  greatest  authority,  and 
"  that  too  of  one  who  knew  him 
"  well,  that  it  is  a  test  of  virtue  to 
The  Roman  Maid.  T.  8vo.  1725.  **  disdain  whatever  He  disdained  ?" 
Hyde,  Henry,  Lord  Hyde  He  was  created  D.  C.  L.  by  the 
and  Cornbury.  This  nobleman  university  of  Oxford,  Dec.  6, 1 728, 
was  eldest  son  of  the  Earl  of  and  was  killed  by  a  fall  from  Im 
Clarendon,  and  not  more  distin-  horse  in  France,  on  the  2d  of  May 
guished  by  his  birth  and  fortune  17-58.  He  was  author  of  a  few 
than  by  his  virtues  and   abilities,    pamphlets,  published  without  his 


**  He  was  (says  Mr.  Walpole)  up- 
"  right,  calm,  steady ;  his  vir- 
"  tues  were  of  the  gentlest  com- 
•*  plexion,  yet  of  the  firmest  tex- 
*'  ture :  vice  could  not  bend  him, 
*c  nor  party  warp  him  ;  even  his 


name ;  of  some  tragedies  still  in 
manuscript ;  and  of  a  comedy, 
called 

The  Mistakes  ;  or,  The  Happy 
Resentment.     8vo.  1758. 

Hyland,  William,  is  said,  in 


"  own   talents  could  not  mislead  the  title-page  of   the  only   work 

••  him.     Though  a  master  of  elo-  which  we  ever  saw  by  him,  to  have 

■*  quence,  he  preferred  justice  and  been  a  farmer  in  Sussex.    His  play 

•*  the  love  of  his  country  to  all  the  is  called 

*' applause  which  the  violence  of  The  Shipwreck.  Dr.  Piece.  8vo. 

"the  times   in   which    he   lived  1743.    Dedicated  to  Edward  Med- 

"  was  so  prodigal  of  bestowing  on  ley,  Esq. 


THE    END    OF    PAUT   I.— VOL.  I. 


Printed  by  S.  Gos null,  Little  Queen  Street,  London. 


\ 


Z       Baker,  David  Erskine 

201^       Biographia  dramatica 

D7B2 

1312 

v.l 

pt.l 

Genera) 
Reference 


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