Lives Of The Poets, Vol. 1 (fiscle part-III) by Samuel Johnson (audio ebook reader txt) 📕

Vindicate The Criticks.

I Wish That There Were No Necessity Of Following the Progress Of His

Theatrical Fame, Or Tracing the Meanders Of His Mind Through The Whole

Series Of His Dramatick Performances; It Will Be Fit, However,

To Enumerate Them, And To Take Especial Notice Of Those That Are

Distinguished by Any Peculiarity, Intrinsick Or Concomitant; For The

Composition And Fate Of Eight-And-Twenty Dramas, Include Too Much Of A

Poetical Life To Be Omitted.

In 1664, He Published the Rival Ladies, Which He Dedicated to The Earl Of

Orrery, A Man Of High Reputation Both As A Writer, And A Statesman. In

This Play He Made His Essay Of Dramatick Rhyme, Which He Defends In his

Dedication, With Sufficient Certainty Of A Favourable Hearing; For Orrery

Was Himself A Writer Of Rhyming tragedies.

He Then Joined with Sir Robert Howard In the Indian Queen, A Tragedy In

Rhyme. The Parts Which Either Of Them Wrote Are Not Distinguished.

The Indian Emperor Was Published in 1667. It Is A Tragedy In rhyme,

Intended for A Sequel To Howard'S Indian Queen. Of This Connexion Notice

Was Given To The Audience By Printed bills, Distributed at The Door; An

Expedient Supposed to Be Ridiculed in the Rehearsal, Where Bayes

Tells How Many Reams He Has Printed, To Instil Into The Audience Some

Conception Of His Plot.

In This Play Is The Description Of Night, Which Rymer Has Made Famous By

Preferring it To Those Of All Other Poets.

The Practice Of Making tragedies In rhyme Was Introduced soon After The

Restoration, As It Seems, By The Earl Of Orrery, In compliance With The

Opinion Of Charles The Second, Who Had Formed his Taste By The French

Theatre; And Dryden, Who Wrote, And Made No Difficulty Of Declaring that

He Wrote, Only To Please, And Who, Perhaps, Knew That By His Dexterity Of

Versification He Was More Likely To Excel Others In rhyme Than Without

It, Very Readily Adopted his Master'S Preference. He, Therefore, Made

Rhyming tragedies, Till, By The Prevalence Of Manifest Propriety, He

Seems To Have Grown Ashamed of Making them Any Longer.

To This Play Is Prefixed a Very Vehement Defence Of Dramatick Rhyme, In

Confutation Of The Preface To The Duke Of Lerma, In which Sir Robert

Howard Had Censured it.

In 1667, He Published annus Mirabilis, The Year Of Wonders, Which May Be

Esteemed one Of His Most Elaborate Works.

It Is Addressed to Sir Robert Howard By A Letter, Which Is Not Properly

A Dedication; And, Writing to A Poet, He Has Interspersed many Critical

Observations, Of Which Some Are Common, And Some, Perhaps, Ventured

Without Much Consideration. He Began, Even Now, To Exercise The

Domination Of Conscious Genius, By Recommending his Own Performance:

"I Am Satisfied that As The Prince And General [Rupert And Monk] Are

Incomparably The Best Subjects I Ever Had, So What I Have Written On

Them Is Much Better Than What I Have Performed on Any Other. As I Have

Endeavoured to Adorn My Poem With Noble Thoughts, So Much More To Express

Those Thoughts With Elocution."

It Is Written In quatrains, Or Heroick Stanzas Of Four Lines; A Measure

Which He Had Learned from The Gondibert Of Davenant, And Which He Then

Thought The Most Majestick That The English Language Affords. Of This

Stanza He Mentions The Incumbrances, Increased as They Were By The

Exactness Which The Age Required. It Was, Throughout His Life, Very Much

His Custom To Recommend His Works, By Representation Of The Difficulties

That He Had Encountered, Without Appearing to Have Sufficiently

Considered, That Where There Is No Difficulty There Is No Praise.

There Seems To Be, In the Conduct Of Sir Robert Howard And Dryden Towards

Each Other, Something that Is Not Now Easily To Be Explained[101].

Dryden, In his Dedication To The Earl Of Orrery, Had Defended dramatick

Rhyme; And Howard, In the Preface To A Collection Of Plays, Had Censured

His Opinion. Dryden Vindicated himself In his Dialogue On Dramatick

Poetry: Howard, In his Preface To The Duke Of Lerma, Animadverted on The

Vindication; And Dryden, In a Preface To The Indian Emperor, Replied to

The Animadversions With Great Asperity, And Almost With Contumely. The

Dedication To This Play Is Dated the Year In which The Annus Mirabilis

Was Published. Here Appears A Strange Inconsistency; But Langbaine

Affords Some Help, By Relating that The Answer To Howard Was Not

Published in the First Edition Of The Play, But Was Added when It Was

Afterwards Reprinted; And, As The Duke Of Lerma Did Not Appear Till 1668,

The Same Year In which The Dialogue Was Published, There Was Time Enough

For Enmity To Grow Up Between Authors, Who, Writing both For The Theatre,

Were Naturally Rivals.

He Was Now So Much Distinguished, That, In 1668[102], He Succeeded sir

William Davenant As Poet Laureate. The Salary Of The Laureate Had Been

Raised in favour Of Jonson, By Charles The First, From A Hundred marks

To One Hundred pounds A Year, And A Tierce Of Wine; A Revenue, In those

Days, Not Inadequate To The Conveniencies Of Life.

The Same Year He Published his Essay On Dramatick Poetry, An Elegant And

Instructive Dialogue; In which We Are Told, By Prior, That The Principal

Character Is Meant To Represent The Duke Of Dorset. This Work Seems To

Have Given Addison A Model For His Dialogues Upon Medals.

Secret Love, Or The Maiden Queen, 1668, Is A Tragicomedy. In the Preface

He Discusses A Curious Question, Whether A Poet Can Judge Well Of His

Own Productions? And Determines Very Justly, That, Of The Plan And

Disposition, And All That Can Be Reduced to Principles Of Science, The

Author May Depend Upon His Own Opinion; But That, In those Parts Where

Fancy Predominates, Self-Love May Easily Deceive. He Might Have Observed,

That What Is Good Only Because It Pleases, Cannot Be Pronounced good Till

It Has Been Found To Please.

Sir Martin Mar-All, 1668, Is A Comedy Published without Preface Or

Dedication, And At First Without The Name Of The Author. Langbaine

Charges It, Like Most Of The Rest, With Plagiarism; And Observes, That

The Song Is Translated from Voiture, Allowing, However, That Both The

Sense And Measure Are Exactly Observed.

The Tempest, 1670, Is An Alteration Of Shakespeare'S Play, Made By Dryden

In Conjunction With Davenant; "Whom," Says He, "I Found Of So Quick A

Fancy, That Nothing was Proposed to Him In which He Could Not Suddenly

Produce A Thought Extremely Pleasant And Surprising; And Those First

Thoughts Of His, Contrary To The Latin Proverb, Were Not Always The Least

Happy; And As His Fancy Was Quick, So, Likewise, Were The Products Of It

Remote And New. He Borrowed not Of Any Other; And His Imaginations Were

Such As Could Not Easily Enter Into Any Other Man."

The Effect Produced by The Conjunction Of These Two Powerful Minds Was,

That To Shakespeare'S Monster, Caliban, Is Added a Sister Monster,

Sycorax; And A Woman, Who, In the Original Play, Had Never Seen A Man,

Is, In this, Brought Acquainted with A Man That Had Never Seen A Woman.

About This Time, In 1673, Dryden Seems To Have Had His Quiet Much

Disturbed by The Success Of The Emperess Of Morocco, A Tragedy Written

In Rhyme, By Elkanah Settle; Which Was So Much Applauded, As To Make Him

Think His Supremacy Of Reputation In some Danger. Settle Had Not Only

Been Prosperous On The Stage, But, In the Confidence Of Success, Had

Published his Play, With Sculptures And A Preface Of Defiance. Here Was

One Offence Added to Another; And, For The Last Blast Of Inflammation, It

Was Acted at Whitehall By The Court Ladies.

Dryden Could Not Now Repress Those Emotions, Which He Called indignation,

And Others Jealousy; But Wrote Upon The Play And The Dedication Such

Criticism As Malignant Impatience Could Pour Out In haste.

Of Settle He Gives This Character: "He'S An Animal Of A Most Deplored

Understanding, Without Reading and Conversation. His Being is In a

Twilight Of Sense, And Some Glimmering of Thought, Which He Can Never

Fashion Into Wit Or English. His Style Is Boisterous And Rough-Hewn,

His Rhyme Incorrigibly Lewd, And His Numbers Perpetually Harsh And

Ill-Sounding. The Little Talent Which He Has, Is Fancy. He Sometimes

Labours With A Thought; But, With The Pudder He Makes To Bring it Into

The World, 'Tis Commonly Stillborn; So That, For Want Of Learning and

Elocution, He Will Never Be Able To Express Any Thing either Naturally Or

Justly."

This Is Not Very Decent; Yet This Is One Of The Pages In which Criticism

Prevails Most Over Brutal Fury.

He Proceeds: "He Has A Heavy Hand At Fools, And A Great Felicity In

Writing nonsense For Them. Fools They Will Be, In spite Of Him. His King,

His Two Emperesses, His Villain, And His Sub-Villain, Nay, His Hero, Have

All A Certain Natural Cast Of The Father--Their Folly Was Born And Bred

In Them, And Something of The Elkanah Will Be Visible."

This Is Dryden'S General Declamation; I Will Not Withhold From The Reader

A Particular Remark. Having gone Through The First Act, He Says: "To

Conclude This Act With The Most Rumbling piece Of Nonsense Spoken Yet:

  "To Flatt'Ring lightning our Feign'D Smiles Conform,

  Which, Back'D With Thunder, Do But Gild A Storm.

"_Conform A Smile To Lightning_, Make A _Smile_ Imitate _Lightning_, And

_Flattering lightning_: Lightning, Sure, Is A Threatening thing. And

This Lightning must _Gild A Storm_. Now, If I Must Conform My Smiles To

Lightning, Then My Smiles Must Gild A Storm Too: To _Gild_ With _Smiles_,

Is A New Invention Of Gilding. And Gild A Storm By Being _Backed with

Thunder_. Thunder Is Part Of The Storm; So One Part Of The Storm Must

Help To _Gild_ Another Part, And Help By _Backing_; As If A Man Would

Gild A Thing the Better For Being backed, Or Having a Load Upon His Back.

So That Here Is _Gilding_ By _Conforming, Smiling, Lightning, Backing_,

And _Thundering_. The Whole Is As If I Should Say Thus: I Will Make My

Counterfeit Smiles Look Like A Flattering stonehorse, Which, Being backed

With A Trooper, Does But Gild The Battle. I Am Mistaken, If Nonsense Is

Not Here Pretty Thick Sown. Sure The Poet Writ These Two Lines Aboard

Some Smack In a Storm, And, Being sea-Sick, Spewed up A Good Lump Of

Clotted nonsense At Once."

Here Is, Perhaps, A Sufficient Specimen; But As The Pamphlet, Though

Dryden'S, Has Never Been Thought Worthy Of Republication, And Is Not

Easily To Be Found, It May Gratify Curiosity To Quote It More Largely:

  "Whene'Er She Bleeds,

  He No Severer A Damnation Needs,

  That Dares Pronounce The Sentence Of Her Death,

  Than The Infection That Attends That Breath.

"_That Attends That Breath_. The Poet Is At _Breath_ Again; _Breath_

Can Never Scape Him; And Here He Brings In a _Breath_ That Must Be

_Infectious_ With _Pronouncing_ A Sentence; And This Sentence Is Not To

Be Pronounced till The Condemned party _Bleeds_; That Is, She Must Be

Executed first, And Sentenced after; And The _Pronouncing_ Of This

_Sentence_ Will Be Infectious; That Is, Others Will Catch The Disease Of

That Sentence, And This Infecting of Others Will Torment A Man'S Self.

The Whole Is Thus: When She Bleeds, Thou Needest No Greater Hell Or

Torment To Thyself, Than Infecting of Others By Pronouncing a Sentence

Upon Her. What Hodge-Podge Does He Make Here! Never Was Dutch Grout Such

Clogging, Thick, Indigestible Stuff. But This Is But A Taste To Stay The

Stomach; We Shall Have A More Plentiful Mess Presently.

"Now To Dish Up The Poet'S Broth, That I Promised:

  "For When We'Re Dead, And Our Freed souls Enlarg'D,

  Of Nature'S Grosser Burden We'Re Discharg'D,

  Then Gently, As A Happy Lover'S Sigh,

  Like Wand'Ring meteors Through The Air We'Ll Fly,

  And In our Airy Walk, As Subtle Guests,

  We'Ll Steal Into Our Cruel Fathers' Breasts,

  There Read Their Souls, And Track Each Passion'S Sphere:

  See How Revenge Moves There, Ambition Here!

  And In their Orbs View The Dark Characters

  Of Sieges, Ruins, Murders, Blood, And Wars.

  We'Ll Blot Out All Those Hideous Draughts, And Write

  Pure And White Forms; Then With A Radiant Light

  Their Breasts Encircle, Till Their Passions Be

  Gentle As Nature In its Infancy;

  Till, Soften'D By Our Charms, Their Furies Cease,

  And Their Revenge Resolves Into A Peace.

  Thus By Our Death Their Quarrel Ends,

  Whom Living we Made Foes, Dead We'Ll Make Friends.

"If This Be Not A Very Liberal Mess, I Will Refer Myself To The Stomach

Of Any Moderate Guest. And A Rare Mess It Is, Far Excelling any

Westminster White-Broth. It Is A Kind Of Giblet Porridge, Made Of The

Giblets Of A Couple Of Young Geese, Stodged full Of Meteors, Orbs,

Spheres, Track, Hideous Draughts, Dark Characters, White Forms, And

Radiant Lights; Designed not Only To Please Appetite, And Indulge Luxury,

But