before Dryden conformed to the same religion. to be told, that the ten concluding years of his life, This step has been the cause of much obloquy on in which he wrote for bread, and composed at a cerone side, and has found much excuse on the other; tain rate per line, were those of many of the pieces but if it be considered, from a view of his past life, which have most contributed to immortalize his that, in changing his religious profession, he could name. They were those of his translation of Juvehave had little difficulty to encounter, it will appear nal and Persius; of that of Virgil entire, a work no breach of candor to suppose that his immediate which enriches the English language, and has motive was nothing more than personal interest. greatly promoted the author's fame; of his celeThe reward he obtained for his compliance was an brated Alexander's Feast; and of his Fables, conaddition to his pension of 100l. per annum. Some taining some of the richest and most truly poetical time after he was engaged in a work which was the pieces which he ever composed. Of these, several longest single piece he ever composed. This was will appear in the subsequent collection of his works. his elaborate controversial poem of "The Hind Nor ought his prose writings to be neglected, and Panther." When completed, notwithstanding which, chiefly consisting of the critical essays preits unpromising subject, and signal absurdity of fixed to his poems, are performances of extraordiplan, such was the power of Dryden's verse, that it nary vigor and comprehension of mind, and afford, was read with avidity, and bore every mark of oc- perhaps, the best specimens of genuine English. cupying the public attention. The birth of a Dryden died of a spreading inflammation in one prince called forth a congratulatory poem from Dry- of his toes, on the first of May, 1700, and was den, entitled "Britannia Rediviva," in which he buried in Westminster Abbey, next to the tomb of ventured to use a poet's privilege of prophecy, fore-Chaucer. No monument marked his grave, till a telling a commencing era of prosperity to the nation plain one, with his bust, was erected, at the expense and the church from this auspicious event; but in of Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham. He left behind vain! for the revolution took place within a few months, and the hopes of the party were blasted for ever. Dryden was a severe sufferer from the change: his posts and pensions were taken away, and the poetical laurel was conferred upon his insignificant rival, Shadwell. He was now, in advanced life, to depend upon his own exertions for a security from absolute indigence. His faculties were equal to the emergency; and it will surprise some theorists him three sons, all brought up to letters. His own character was cold and reserved, backward in personal advances to the great, and rather heavy in conversation. In fact, he was too much engaged in literature to devote much of his time to society. Few writers of his time delighted so much to approach the vergo of profaneness; whence it may be inferred, that though religion was an interesting topic of discussion to him, he had very little of its spirit in his heart. The loss and gain each fatally were great; He first survey'd the charge with careful eyes, At length resolv'd t' assert the watery ball, It seems as every ship their sovereign knows, To see this fleet upon the ocean move, Angels drew wide the curtains of the skies; And Heaven, as if there wanted lights above, For tapers made two glaring comets rise. Whether they unctuous exhalations are, Fir'd by the Sun, or seeming so alone; Or one, that bright companion of the Sun, Victorious York did first with fam'd success, To his known valor make the Dutch give place: Thus Heaven our monarch's fortune did confess, Beginning conquest from his royal race. But since it was decreed, auspicious king, In Britain's right that thou shouldst wed the main, Heaven, as a gage, would cast some precious thing, And therefore doom'd that Lawson should be slain. Lawson amongst the foremost met his fate, Whom sea-green Sirens from the rocks lament: Thus as an offering for the Grecian state, He first was kill'd who first to battle went. Their chief blown up in air, not waves, expir'd, To nearest ports their shatter'd ships repair, When thunder speaks the angry gods abroad. By the rich scent we found our perfum'd prey, Fiercer than cannon, and than rocks more hard These fight like husbands, but like lovers those : Amidst whole heaps of spices lights a ball, And now their odors arm'd against them fly: Some preciously by shatter'd porcelain fall, And some by aromatic splinters die. And though by tempests of the prize bereft, And only yielded to the seas and wind. Nor wholly lost we so deserv'd a prey; For storms, repenting, part of it restor❜d: The British ocean sent her mighty lord. Go, mortals, now, and vex yourselves in vain For wealth, which so uncertainly must come : The son, who twice three months on th' ocean tost, Such are the proud designs of human-kind, The undistinguish'd seeds of good and ill, Let Munster's prelate ever be accurst, In whom we seek the German faith in vain : And now approach'd their fleet from India, fraught Happy, who never trust a stranger's will, Like hunted castors, conscious of their store, [bring: Whose friendship's in his interest understood! Since money given but tempts him to be ill. When power is too remote to make him good. Till now, alone the mighty nations strove; The rest, at gaze, without the lists did stand; And threatening France, plac'd like a painted Jove, Kept idle thunder in his lifted hand. Meantime the Belgians tack upon our rear, [send: And raking chase-guns through our sterns they Close by, their fire-ships, like jackals, appear, Who on their lions for the prey attend. Silent, in smoke of cannon they come on: Sometimes from fighting squadrons of each fleet, Now at each tack our little fleet grows less; And, like maim'd fowl, swim lagging on the main : Their greater loss their numbers scarce confess, While they lose cheaper than the English gain. Have you not seen, when, whistled from the fist, The dastard crow, that to the wood made wing, And sees the groves no shelter can afford, With her loud kaws her craven kind does bring, Who safe in numbers cuff the noble bird. Among the Dutch thus Albemarle did fare: Yet pity did his manly spirit move, To see those perish who so well had fought. And generously with his despair he strove, Resolv'd to live till he their safety wrought. Let other Muses write his prosperous fate, Of conquer'd nations tell, and kings restor'd: But mine shall sing of his eclips'd estate, Which, like the Sun's, more wonders does afford He drew his mighty frigates all before, His fiery cannon did their passage guide, Which first the Asian empire overthrew. The foe approach'd; and one for his bold sin This seen, the rest at awful distance stood: So Libyan huntsmen, on some sandy plain, From shady coverts rous'd, the lion chase: The kingly beast roars out with loud disdain, And slowly moves, unknowing to give place. But if some one approach to dare his force, Amidst these toils succeeds the balmy night; Now hissing waters the quench'd guns restore; And weary waves, withdrawing from the fight, Lie lull'd and panting on the silent shore. The Moon shone clear on the becalmed flood, Where, while her beams like glittering silver play, Upon the deck our careful general stood, And deeply mus'd on the succeeding day. "That happy Sun," said he, “will rise again, "Yet, like an English general will I die, And all the ocean make my spacious grave: Women and cowards on the land may lie; The sea's a tomb that's proper for the brave." Restless he pass'd the remnant of the night, Till the fresh air proclaim'd the morning nigh: And burning ships, the martyrs of the fight, With paler fires beheld the eastern sky. But now, his stores of ammunition spent, Thus far had Fortune power, he forc'd to stay, For now brave Rupert from afar appears, The anxious prince had heard the cannon long, Then, as an eagle, who with pious care Was beating widely on the wing for prey, To her now silent eyry does repair, And finds her callow infants forc'd away: Stung with her love, she stoops upon the plain, With such kind passion hastes the prince to fight, With such glad hearts did our despairing men That with first eyes did distant safety meet. The Dutch, who came like greedy hinds before, And dangerous flats, in secret ambush lay, Where the false tides skim o'er the cover'd land, And seamen with dissembled depths betray. The wily Dutch, who like fall'n angels fear'd But he unmov'd contemns their idle threat, Secure of fame whene'er he please to fight: His cold experience tempers all his heat, And inbred worth doth boasting valor slight. Heroic virtue did his actions guide, And he the substance, not th' appearance, chose To rescue one such friend, he took more pride, Than to destroy whole thousands of such foes. But when approach'd, in strict embraces bound, He joys to have his friend in safety found, The cheerful soldiers, with new stores supplied, Thus reinforc'd, against the adverse fleet, Still doubling ours, brave Rupert leads the way. With the first blushes of the morn they meet, And bring night back upon the new-born day. His presence soon blows up the kindling fight, The Dutch too well his mighty conduct knew, And matchless courage, since the former fight; Whose navy like a stiff-stretch'd cord did show, Till he bore in and bent them into flight. The wind he shares, while half their fleet offends His open side, and high above him shows: Upon the rest at pleasure he descends, And doubly harm'd he double harms bestows. Behind the general mends his weary pace, |