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ALVMNVS BOOK FYND 
 
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 LECTURES ON DRYDEN 
 
CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 
 ILonKon: FETTER LANE, E.G. 
 
 C. F. CLAY, Manager 
 
 ©Umburflf): loo, PRINCES STREET 
 
 Berlin: A. ASHER AND CO. 
 
 Eeipjtfl: F. A. BROCKHAUS 
 
 i^etiJ Unrfe: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 ISombap mXi (Talrtttta: MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd. 
 
 STotonto: J. M. DENT AND SONS, Ltd. 
 
 3roftgo: THE MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHA 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
LECTURES ON DRYDEN 
 
 ^>\->eL^2^ 
 
 DELIVERED BY 
 
 A. W. VERRALL, Litt.D. 
 
 KING EDWARD VII PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE 
 AND FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 MARGARET DE G. VERRALL 
 
 Cambridge : 
 
 at the University Press 
 
 1914 
 

 Cambrtlrge: 
 
 PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. 
 AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 
 
PREFACE 
 
 IN October and November 191 1, Dr Verrall, as 
 King Edward VII Professor of English Litera- 
 ture, delivered a course of twelve lectures on Dryden, 
 thus carrying out the intention which he formed as 
 soon as he was appointed to the English Chair. 
 The reason for the selection of this subject was not 
 only his own long-standing admiration for Dryden, 
 but the importance of his work in the development of 
 English prose and verse, and its comparative neglect 
 among the younger lovers of literature at the present 
 day. He had hoped to recast and publish in other 
 forms — partly as essays on particular points, partly in 
 a contemplated edition of Absalom and Achitophel — 
 the material gathered for these lectures. The present 
 volume reproduces strictly the original manuscript 
 notes as arranged for delivery. These notes, written 
 by himself or dictated to our daughter and to me, 
 were unusually full, so that it has hardly been 
 necessary to do more than give grammatical com- 
 pleteness to the abbreviated sentences, to alter a 
 word here and there, and to verify or supply refer- 
 ences. 
 
vi Preface 
 
 Besides the draft used in the lecture-room, I have 
 had before me pencilled notes made in the spring 
 and summer of 191 1, when Dr Verrall was re-reading 
 Dryden's writings for the purposes of this course. 
 These notes, like the full lecture-notes, were compiled 
 solely for the lecturer's own use, and to that must 
 be attributed some unconventionalities of expression 
 which would not have found place in his published 
 work. Nor would he have admitted into a work 
 intended for readers digressions and a certain loose- 
 ness of structure appropriate in the lecture-room. 
 
 Those who heard the lectures will find here some 
 comments and suggestions the delivery of which 
 time did not permit ; in particular, I have included 
 a lecture on All for Love, which was to have com- 
 pleted the course but which had to be omitted, as 
 two lectures on Dryden's Religious Poems were 
 found necessary, instead of the one originally planned. 
 On the other hand, it is probable that many points, 
 compressed in the notes, were more amply treated 
 in the lectures, and there has been unavoidable 
 curtailment where the lecturer dealt with metrical 
 questions ; for effects easily explained and illustrated 
 by recitation to an audience do not lend themselves 
 to reproduction in print. The proportions of the 
 scheme have in consequence been somewhat altered ; 
 the lectures on Dryden's Odes and his verse generally 
 
Preface vii 
 
 fill a relatively smaller space in print than in the 
 lecture-room, and no place has been here given to 
 the Secular Masque^ a reading of which, with atten- 
 tion to metrical effects but without other comment, 
 concluded the course. 
 
 The general intention and purpose is apparent 
 from the lectures themselves : they were essentially- 
 addressed to students and more particularly to 
 Cambridge students. It was, I know, a special 
 pleasure to my husband to have this opportunity of 
 speaking to a Cambridge audience about a great 
 Cambridge poet — 'John Dryden of Trinity College.' 
 
 In preparing this book for publication I have 
 received valuable assistance from friends : my thanks 
 are due to Mr M. A. Bayfield, Mr E. H. Marsh, 
 and more especially to Mr G. C. Macaulay, Lecturer 
 in English in this University. 
 
 MARGARET de G. VERRALL. 
 
 Cambridge, 
 
 December 1913. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 I. Dryden's Work, Character and Influence 
 
 II. The Epistles 
 
 III. Absalom and Achitophel .... 
 
 IV. The Quatrain Poems ; Stanzas on Cromwell and 
 
 Annus Mirabilis . . . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 26 
 
 47 
 
 92 
 
 w V. Literary Criticism in the Age of Dryden ; 
 
 THE 'Unities'; the Essay oj Dramatic Poesy 117 
 
 VI. The Religious Poems; Religio Laid and The 
 Hind and the Panther .... 
 
 VIJ.i The Development of the English Ode 
 Dryden's Influence on Lyric Poetry 
 
 VIII. The State of Innocence ; Dryden and Milton 
 IX. All for Love; or the World Well Lost 
 
 Index 
 
 147 
 
 176 
 217 
 238 
 
 267 
 
DRYDEN'S WORK, CHARACTER AND INFLUENCE 
 
 Scott, in the ' Advertisement ' prefixed to his 
 complete edition of Dryden's works, writes that 
 Dryden * may claim at least the third place ' in the 
 list of English classics, and Gray in his Progress of 
 Poesy, when he comes to English poets, celebrates 
 Shakespeare, Milton, and Dryden. It is needless 
 to discuss the order of merit, especially as new 
 competitors have arisen in the nineteenth century. 
 These have not yet been sifted ; even if the two 
 great Poets Laureate of last century, Wordsworth 
 and Tennyson, obtain two hundred years — and 
 perhaps they will not obtain more — of permanent 
 interest, their work can hardly be of higher value 
 than that of Dryden. 
 
 Gray's words in the Progress of Poesy are care- 
 fully chosen. Passing on from Milton, he writes of 
 Dryden's 'less presumptuous car' borne 'wide o'er "^ 
 the fields of glory.' * Wide ' serves to remind us of 
 Dryden's success in almost every class of literature. 
 In drama he was the principal figure from the 
 Restoration to the Revolution, prolific both in 
 
 V. D. I 
 

 2 Dryderis Work, 
 
 comedy and tragedy ; the heroic play, of which his 
 writings are the leading examples, was at one time 
 supposed to have rivalled the works of the Jacobean 
 playwrights. 
 
 Then he became the voice of the nation in a 
 supreme political crisis, and created for this purpose 
 almost a new type of poem, akin to satire but 
 essentially different — the First Part of Absalom and 
 Achitophel, published in November, 1681. 
 
 From this there was a double development, first 
 in the direction of personal satire, where the result 
 was The Medal (March. 1682), Mac Flecknoe 
 (October, 1682), and the satire on Settle and 
 Shadwell, as Doeg and Og, in the Second Part of 
 Absalom and Achitophel, published in November, 
 1682. /These poems were not original in form, but 
 unprecedented in smartness, in energy, and in 
 \ eloquence.) 
 
 \ The second development lay in the direction of 
 i arguments on religion, then a part of politics. Here 
 Dryden represented the national voice in a form 
 practically new and characterised by dexterity and 
 apparent sirnpjidty. He takes the tone of the 
 reasonable man^ who tries to see his way amid the 
 difficulties of_j he subjects he commands a n extra- 
 ordinary rang e^of feelings from the highest passion 
 to mere c onversation, but the transitions from on e 
 mood to anodienare perfpctly nRtl iral and the whole 
 is writ ten in almost faultless verse. The two poems, 
 Religio Laid (November, 1682) and The Hind and 
 the Panther (April, 1687) represent opposite sides. 
 
Character and Influence 3 
 
 the latter poem having been published after his y 
 conversion in the reign of James II. 
 
 Then again take his narrative poetry. Here lay 
 his ambition ; the English epic, then and still want- 
 ing, — for Milton's Paradise Lost is not a national 
 epic — he never achieved, but he won notable suc- 
 cesses in this line. In his early career, during the 
 interruption of his dramatic work occasioned by his 
 absence from London at the time of the Great 
 Plague, he wrote Annus Mirabilis, 1666. This 
 poem, which describes the Dutch wars and the Fire 
 of London, is not an epic but is an essay in that 
 direction, as Dryden himself clearly recognised ; this 
 he shows by his judgements upon the Latin epic 
 poets, especially Lucan and Virgil, in the Letter to 
 Sir R. Howard prefixed to the poem. The work 
 is not really Virgilian, but Dryden's comparison of 
 it with the Roman national epic is all the more 
 significant, as showing that he conceived the object 
 as similar. Dryden's poem contains much admirable 
 work and is still interesting. He was led back to 
 narrative poetry in his closing years by his straitened ^ 
 circumstances after the Revolution. He turned then 
 to translation and adaptation of other poets ; with 
 assistance, he translated the whole of Virgil, a work 
 which was almost a national monument. But its 
 success has been overrated ; Pope, for instance, 
 called it ' the most noble and . spirited translation 
 which he knew in any language,' a judgement 
 which we cannot endorse. He also translated or 
 adapted parts of Chaucer and of Ovid and made 
 
4 Dryden's Work, 
 
 poetical adaptations from the prose of Boccaccio. 
 His Chaucerian translations were admirable and 
 new to the public ; specially to be recommended to 
 readers are his versions of Palamon and Arcite and 
 The Cock and the Fox. The stories, fables as he 
 calls them, based on Boccaccio are virtually original. 
 Take for instance Theodore and Honoria : Boccaccio's 
 tale is neither a poem nor a poetic story ; Dryden's 
 version could hardly be improved. This is a great 
 effect to be produced by an old man near seventy, 
 already at the height of his fame and not expected 
 to succeed in this way. 
 
 Then, to turn to lyric poetry : the songs in the 
 plays and a few other pieces show his admirable ear ; 
 he wrote simple rhythms with a new perfection. 
 But here again there was a surprise at the end. 
 The complicated lyric with irregular metre — the 
 ode — had been practised by Dryden to a small 
 extent, it is true, but beyond the common standard ; 
 then, happily using casual occasions — the meetings 
 of a musical society — he gave to the ode and to 
 lyric verse generally an entirely new standard of 
 technical execution. The two Odes for St Cecilia s 
 v/ Day, 1687 ^^<^ 1^97' ^^^ immensely important both 
 technically and historically : from them derives the 
 work in this line of Gray, Collins, Coleridge, 
 Wordsworth, and Tennyson. The second ode, 
 Alexander s Feast, or the Power of Music, with its 
 characteristic combination of simplicity and science 
 is almost unrivalled in popularity : — ' None but the 
 brave deserves the fair/ and 'like another Helen 
 
Character and Influence 5 
 
 fired another Troy,' are familiar to many who have 
 never opened a volume containing Dry den's * Works.' 
 This ode was written when Dryden was in his 
 sixty-seventh year. 
 
 Beyond this, there is much work not easily 
 classed, but taking the form of complimentary . 
 pieces, addresses, epistles, etc. The poem convey- 
 ing to Lady Castlemaine Dryden's thanks for her 
 patronage of an unsuccessful play in 1663 is im- 
 portant as giving perhaps the first decisive proof of 
 his special power. This series of poems also ends 
 only with his life and rises to the last, in the 
 domestic and autobiographical Epistle to his cousin 
 John Driden, a rural magistrate and member of 
 Parliament. This Epistle was included in the last 
 of Dryden's published volumes, which contained 
 among other matter the translations from Chaucer ; 
 the Epistle was very popular at the time and is still 
 pleasing. It is Horatian, more so than the Epistles 
 of Pope, for like the Roman poet's writing it excites 
 a friendly feeling in the reader. 
 
 Further, there is a large mass of prose, mostly 
 connected with the poetry, in the form of critical 
 prefaces — very characteristic of Dryden, who was a 
 conscious artist — but some similar work was inde- 
 pendently published. Most worth study are perhaps 
 the Essay of Dramatic Poesy, written in 1668, and 
 the Preface to the Fables in 1700. His style is 
 pleasant and gentlemanly, and his work takes an^/ 
 important place in the development of practicable 
 prose. In the period in which he wrote England 
 
6 Drydejt's Work, 
 
 saw the first formation of a large - literary society in 
 London, and this is reflected in his dedications ; 
 the courtly profusion of compliment is characteristic 
 of the age but is managed by Dryden with singular 
 dignity. 
 
 More might be added, but this is sufficient to 
 prove the accuracy of Gray's descriptive ' wide.' 
 Even if we make all possible deductions, such for 
 instance as the whole of the dramatic work — an 
 exception which is, however, not fair, for the play of 
 All for Love certainly has merit — the permanent 
 part still remains very large, when the lapse of time 
 is considered. The indestructible part of Dryden's 
 work is sufficient for a first-rate reputation ; the First 
 Part of Absalom and Ac'kitopkely Theodore and 
 Honoria, and the two Odes for St Cecilia s Day, 
 are more than enough in themselves. 
 
 jfrhe historical interest of Dryden to a student of 
 English literature is immense. He was the principal 
 figure and agent in the formation of permanent 
 standard English, the conscious work of the age. 
 In this his action was perfectly deliberate ; he in- 
 tended to improve the literature and especially the 
 poetry of his time, to improve it generally, that is 
 to say, and to raise the normal standard. In his 
 Threnodia Augustalis, a lament on the death of 
 Charles 1 1, he gives us a literary retrospect describing 
 how the muses return with the King : — 
 
 And such a plenteous crop they bore 
 Of purest and well-winnow' d grain 
 As Britain never saw before ; 
 
Character and Influence 7 
 
 and the same feeling is expressed in the Epistle to 
 Sir Robert Howard. To understand the precise 
 meaning of this claim on behalf of the Post- Restora- 
 tion poetry we had better take an instance. 
 
 Cowley, a predecessor of Dryden, writing in the 
 reign of Charles I, was a man of thorough academic 
 training — he had been educated here at Trinity 
 College — a poet of high reputation and ambitious of 
 style. He was the creator of the 'Pindaric Art' 
 and in his Ode in Praise of Pindar, where sublimity 
 is contrasted with simplicity of style, there are fine 
 lines. He describes Pindar's poetry which ' Like a 
 swoln flood from some steep mountain pours along ' ; 
 and writes that *The grave can but the dross of 
 him devour.' And yet Cowley can admit the fol- 
 lowing : — 
 
 Whether some brave young man's untimely fate 
 In words worth dying for he celebrate, 
 Such mournful and such pleasing words 
 As joy to his mother^ s and his mistress^ grief affords ; 
 He bids him live and grow in fame, 
 Among the stars he stichs his name. 
 
 The verse ' as joy to his mother's and his mistress' 
 grief affords ' has almost as many mistakes as words : 
 the forced grammar of ' affords ' is especially offensive 
 in the rhyming word ; the emphasis of the rhyme 
 falls upon a weak word, and that word the wrong 
 word, for * gives ' or ' brings,' not * affords,' represents 
 the meaning ; there is a faulty omission of the second 
 ' to ' in * to his mother's and his mistress' ' so that 
 it would be supposed that only one person was 
 
8 Drydens Work, 
 
 indicated ; the word * his ' is lopped, ' to 's mother's 
 and 's mistress' ' ; there is a clumsy inversion of the 
 whole sentence, the word 'joy' being apparently the 
 subject whereas it is found ultimately to be the object 
 of the verb. So again in the last line quoted the 
 word * sticks ' is at least unlucky, even if we suppose 
 it to have been unobjectionable at the time. 
 
 This case is typical ; there is a very small amount 
 of composition earlier than the Restoration which is 
 not open to like objections. This was the chaff 
 which Dryden justly desired to ' winnow,' and this 
 object he achieved ; such lapses as Cowley's are 
 hardly possible in a poet of reputation since Dryden's 
 time. 
 
 , The deliberate attempt to improve English 
 literary style was part of a movement natural in the 
 circumstances of the time. The increase of wealth 
 and the diffusion of culture, together with the growth 
 of London, brought together a large but yet coherent 
 society. There was also the example of France, 
 where the Academy had been founded in 1635, ^-^^ 
 where the Court of Louis XIV was the centre of 
 French classical literature. England was much in 
 arrear ; there was no authorised grammar, no 
 dictionary. Dryden himself wanted an Academy ; 
 but the whole movement of the age was academic. 
 
 The appearance of Dryden at this time was 
 fortunate. His practical command of English is 
 immense ; so too is his vigour, of which the main 
 principle is that there is no waste, no * chaff.' There 
 is hardly an idle word ; the metrical emphasis is 
 
Character and Influence 9 
 
 correctly adapted to the meaning, there are no 
 ' fetches ' for rhyme, and his instinct for vocabulary, 
 for the permanent, accounts for the astonishing fresh- 
 ness of his composition ; there is almost nothing in 
 his writing which marks a date. No doubt this is 
 partly the consequence of subsequent imitation, and 
 of the adoption of Dryden by later writers as a 
 standard ; Charles Fox, for instance, told Lord 
 Holland that he would admit no word into his book, 
 his projected History of James II, for which he had 
 not the authority of Dryden. But this is not 
 sufficient explanation, and does not extend to his 
 grammar or to the turning of his phrases. The 
 point is best illustrated by examples from his 
 writing. 
 
 Let us take first the Song from the play An 
 Evenings Love, published in 1668 : — 
 
 Damon. Celimena, of my heart 
 
 None shall e'er bereave you : 
 If, with your good leave, I may 
 Quarrel with you once a day, 
 I will never leave you. 
 
 Celimena. Passion's but an empty name. 
 Where respect is wanting : 
 Damon, you mistake your aim; 
 Hang your heart, and burn your flame. 
 If you must be ranting. 
 
 Damon, Love as dull and muddy is 
 As decaying liquor : 
 Anger sets it on the lees, 
 And refines it by degrees. 
 Till it works the quicker. 
 
lO 
 
 Drydefis Work, 
 
 Celimena, Love by quarrels to beget 
 Wisely you endeavour; 
 With a grave physician's wit, 
 Who, to cure an ague fit, 
 Put me in a fever. 
 
 Damon. Anger rouses love to fight, 
 And his only bait is, 
 'Tis the spur to dull delight, 
 And is but an eager bite. 
 When desire at height is. 
 
 Celimena, If such drops of heat can fall 
 In our wooing weather; 
 If such drops of heat can fall. 
 We shall have the devil and all 
 When we come together. 
 
 Or again take the Jacobites' Song, The Beautiful 
 Lady of the May, written probably in 1691, and 
 published after Dryden's death : — 
 
 A quire of bright beauties in spring did appear. 
 
 To choose a May-lady to govern the year; 
 
 All the nymphs were in white, and the shepherds in green, 
 
 The garland was given, and Phillis was queen; 
 
 But Phillis refus'd it; and sighing did say, 
 
 'I'll not wear a garland while Pan is away.' 
 
 While Pan and fair Syrinx are fled from our shore. 
 The Graces are banish'd, and Love is no more : 
 The soft god of pleasure that warm'd our desires 
 Has broken his bow, and extinguish'd his fires. 
 And vows that himself and his mother will mourn. 
 Till Pan and fair Syrinx in triumph return. 
 
 Forbear your addresses, and court us no more. 
 For we will perform what the Deity swore : 
 But, if you dare think of deserving our charms, 
 Away with your sheephooks, and take to your arms; 
 
Character and Influence 1 1 
 
 Then laurels and myrtles your brows shall adorn, 
 When Pan and his son and fair Syrinx return. 
 
 Instances might be multiplied indefinitely. Let 
 us take as an example in prose a passage from the 
 Epistle to the Whigs, the introduction to the satire 
 The Medal. The ' Epistle is throughout a furious 
 invective, the most dangerous of moods and the 
 most rapidly out of date ; yet Dryden both achieves 
 his force without exceeding in point of language the 1] 
 range of normal speech, and also by some instinct I 
 keeps so close to the genius of English that he 
 might almost have written yesterday. The language 
 is much more normal and modern, for instance, than 
 that of Junius, some ninety years later : — 
 
 But I would ask you one civil question : What right has 
 any man among you, or any association of men (to come 
 nearer to you) who out of parliament cannot be considered 
 in a public capacity, to meet, as you daily do, in factious 
 clubs, to vilify the government in your discourses, and to 
 libel it in all your writings? Who made you judges in 
 Israel ? Or how is it consistent with your zeal of the public 
 welfare to promote sedition ? Does your definition of loyal, 
 which is to serve the King according to the laws, allow you 
 the license of traducing the executive power with which you 
 own he is invested? You complain that his Majesty has 
 lost the love and confidence of his people ; and by your very 
 urging it you endeavour what in you lies to make him lose 
 them. All good subjects abhor the thought of arbitrary 
 power, whether it be in one or many : if you were the 
 patriots you would seem, you would not at this rate incense 
 the multitude to assume it; for no sober man can fear it, 
 either from the King's disposition or his practice, or, even 
 where you would odiously lay it, from his Ministers. Give 
 us leave to enjoy the government and the benefit of laws 
 
12 Drydens Work, 
 
 under which we were born, and which we desire to transmit 
 to our posterity. You are not the trustees of the public 
 liberty : and if you have not right to petition in a crowd, 
 much less have you to intermeddle in the management of 
 affairs, or to arraign what you do not like, which in effect is 
 everything that is done by the King and Council. Can you 
 imagine that any reasonable man will believe you respect the 
 person of his Majesty, when 'tis apparent that your seditious 
 pamphlets are stuffed with particular reflections on him ? If 
 you have the confidence to deny this, 'tis easy to be evinced 
 from a thousand passages, which I only forbear to quote, 
 because I desire they should die and be forgotten. 
 
 Or take the following passage from The Medal 
 Itself (123 ff.). In this there is one archaism, 'brave' 
 for 'bravo,' a point instantly noted by the reader 
 of the present day — and this in the case of a poet 
 more than 200 years old : — 
 
 Too happy England, if our good we knew, 
 Would we possess the freedom we pursue ! 
 The lavish government can give no more; 
 Yet we repine, and plenty makes us poor. 
 God tried us once; our rebel fathers fought; 
 He glutted them with all the power they sought, 
 Till, master'd by their own usurping brave. 
 The free-born subject sunk into a slave. 
 We loathe our manna, and we long for quails; 
 Ah ! what is man, when his own wish prevails ! 
 How rash, how swift to plunge himself in ill, 
 Proud of his power and boundless in his will ! 
 
 The life of Dryden is easily accessible, in Scott's 
 complete edition of Dryden's works, in Professor 
 Saintsbury's Life m the series of English Men of 
 Letters (edited by Lord Morley), or in Christie's 
 
Character and Influence 13 
 
 Memoir in the Globe Edition of Dryden's Poetical 
 Works. Here therefore I note only some aspects 
 of importance. 
 
 Dryden's native rank was neither too high nor 
 too low ; he was essentially a gentleman in the, 
 proper sense of the word — born, that is, and bred! 
 and placed with natural access to the more polished ["^fi 
 part of society. He was the son of a country' 
 gentleman of good family, in succession to a 
 baronetcy ; Dryden's own son succeeded to the 
 title after his father's death, and there was another 
 baronetcy on the side of Dryden's mother, Mary 
 Pickering. John Dryden was a King's Scholar at 
 Westminster, and a Westminster Scholar at Trinity 
 College, Cambridge. The important part of his 
 school days coincided with the Civil War, and his 
 University course with the Usurpation, for he stayed 
 at Cambridge from 1650 to 1657. One poem. Upon 
 the Death of the Lord Hastings, written while he 
 was at Westminster, is among his published works, 
 but it is not good. Of his University course we do 
 not know much ; there is a record that he was 
 punished in his second year for contumacy to the 
 Vice-Master, but as he took his B.A. degree at the 
 usual date he apparently did not waste his time here. 
 He stayed in Cambridge seven years, that being 
 then the usual length of the course for Orders in the y 
 Church of England, but he did not take Orders, nor ^ 
 proceed to his M.A. degree. There is a grateful 
 allusion to Trinity College in his Life of Plutarch : 
 * I particularly observed [this passage] when I read 
 
14 Dry den's Work, 
 
 Plutarch in the Hbrary of Trinity College, in 
 Cambridge, to which foundation I gratefully ac- 
 knowledge a great part of my education.' This 
 allusion, written in 1683, is better evidence of 
 Dryden's real feeling than the often quoted passage 
 from the Prologue to the University of Oxford, 
 printed in 1684 ^^^ probably delivered at Oxford 
 in 1681 : — 
 
 Oxford to him a dearer name shall be 
 Than his own mother-university. 
 Thebes did his green unknowing youth engage; 
 He chooses Athens in his riper age. 
 
 For it must never be forgotten, in judging of 
 Dryden's sentiments, that he wrote strictly for the 
 occasion ; this Prologue was directly addressed to 
 the University of Oxford, and in a private letter we 
 find him saying, in connexion with another Prologue 
 and Epilogue to be spoken at Oxford : ' how easy 
 'tis to pass anything upon an university, and how 
 gross flattery the learned will endure.' 
 / Dryden's family politics were Parliamentarian ; 
 ^ there was little fortune, barely a subsistence for the 
 eldest son. John Dryden apparently settled in 
 London about the year 1657 and worked there for 
 a bookseller. There is no suggestion of a severe 
 struggle for livelihood, and he does not seem to 
 have lost touch with society, if we may judge by his 
 rapid success after the Restoration. Not long after 
 ,,his coming to London we find him on intimate terms 
 with a son of the Earl of Berkshire, Sir Robert 
 Howard, a poet and dramatist. Dryden's enemies 
 
 ^\ 
 
Character and Influence 15 
 
 brought against him a charge of sponging on 
 Howard, and we have Dryden's own statement in 
 the letter prefixed to Annus Mirabilis that he was 
 * many ways obHged to ' Sir Robert, who had * not 
 only been careful of his fortune, but solicitous for 
 his reputation. There is no sufficient evidence on 
 the point to make judgement possible. 
 
 In 1663 he married Sir Robert's sister, Lady\ / 
 Elizabeth Howard, and his enemies accounted fori 
 the marriage by bringing charges of indiscretion \ 
 against the lady. No special explanation, however, 
 seems necessary. Dryden was already in some 
 favour at Court, as is shown by the patronage of 
 Lady Castlemaine and ttie_tana-iiLiiis-^ddress_ta 
 her. We have a later picture of himself and his 
 associates about the year 1667, in his Essay of 
 Dramatic Poesy, and there is also evidence of good 
 relations with his wife's family, for, during his absence 
 from London at the time of the plague, he resided 
 at Charlton in Wiltshire, the property of the Earl 
 of Berkshire. His family consisted of three sons. 
 There was much contemporary gossip about his 
 family relations but nothing is really known; there 
 was no known breach with his wife, and his own 
 letters, among other things, show evidence of strong 
 affection for his children. The argument that his 
 marriage was unhappy, drawn from uncomplimentary 
 allusions to marriage in his works, is futile ; the 
 insanity, in old age, of Lady Elizabeth is nothing to 
 the purpose ; some evidence of his actual views on 
 marriage may be derived from his Epistle to John 
 
1 6 Dry den's Work, 
 
 Driden, himself a bachelor. Here, after strong 
 language on the perils of marriage, he adds : — 
 
 Not that my verse would blemish all the fair; 
 But yet, if some be bad, 'tis wisdom to beware, 
 And better shun the bait than struggle in the snare. 
 Thus have you shunn'd and shun the married state. 
 Trusting as little as you can to Fate. 
 
 These lines, written after some thirty-five years of 
 marriage, may surely in fairness be considered to 
 include his own case as at least tolerable, and 
 being contained in the Epistle to his cousin John 
 Driden, which is largely autobiographical and 
 entirely personal, they outweigh many gibes in the 
 comedies, in which there is no reason to see a 
 personal intention. The allusion to marriage in this 
 Epistle is not quoted, so far as I am aware, by any 
 of Dryden's biographers, but seems to deserve 
 attention from those who are interested in the 
 question of his personal relations. 
 
 Dryden's connexion with the Court after the 
 Restoration has been attributed to abandonment of 
 principle, and in support of this view his accusers 
 quote the stanzas To the Memory of Oliver Cromwell. 
 But, as we shall see when we discuss this poem\ 
 there is no evidence there for his approval of military 
 despotism. At the Restoration no doubt, as on other 
 occasions, Dry den went with the stream. He was 
 poor for his position. The Poet Laureateship, con- 
 ferred on him in 1670, brought him ;^200 a year, 
 and to this was added later another pension of ^100 
 
 ^ See below, p. 92. 
 
Character and Influence 17 
 
 a year. But his salary was ill paid, and remunerative 
 work was necessary to him. This the theatre pro- 
 vided, and his main work during twenty years was 
 for the stage. This was unfortunate, as he knew 
 himself, for he had hardly any real dramatic power ; 
 he could make situations but not characters, and the 
 characters that he describes can never be really 
 pictured. Further, the coarseness of the stage 
 encouraged Dryden's worst tendency, and infected 
 other work, such as his songs, and even the opening 
 lines of Absalom and AchitopheL (This subject I 
 shall ignore as far as possible.) Other work also he 
 did for money : ' Poets subsist not but by favour of 
 sovereign princes and great men ' ; hence his dedi- 
 cations, his complimentary addresses, puffs, and 
 prologues. What is extant in this kind is not 
 voluminous and the rate of profit is uncertain ; he is 
 said, for instance, but not on unimpeachable authority, 
 to have received five hundred guineas for Eleonoray 
 ' a panegyrical poem dedicated to the memory of the 
 late Countess of Abingdon,' a lady with whom he 
 was not personally acquainted. 
 
 Even with all allowance for the convention and 
 feeling of the day, Dryden's was not a dignified 
 position, but Macaulay's words, 'a life of mendicancy 
 and adulation,' are much too strong. Dryden dis- 
 penses his compliments like a patron, and of 
 mendicancy there is no evidence whatever. It is 
 true that he pressed the Government for a further 
 endowment to set him free for the epic he wished to 
 write, and that he specially urged this after Absalom 
 
 V. D. 2 
 
^ 
 
 Drydens Work, 
 
 y 
 
 and Achitophel had given him some claim upor. the 
 Government ; but this is not ' mendicancy.' 
 
 After the Revolution Dryden was in great straits 
 of poverty, from which he was rescued by friends 
 and in particular by the Earl of Dorset. To Dorset, 
 to whom the Essay on Satire preceding the transla- 
 tions from Juvenal was addressed in 1693, strong 
 expressions of gratitude are employed both in that 
 Essay and in private letters : ' May the Almighty 
 God return it for me, both in blessing you here, and 
 rewarding you hereafter,' but there is no proof of 
 unwarranted solicitation on Dryden's part. He was 
 no hero in his pecuniary relations, or indeed in any 
 others. Milton might have written his epic on the 
 income that Dryden had, perhaps even on the 
 diminished income which he had after the Revolution ; 
 but no one is bound to be Milton. And, whatever 
 our judgement on the ethical point, at all events we 
 must recognise that Dryden's position between a 
 literary Court and the literary class was eminently 
 favourable for a polisher of language. 
 J— As to his opinions, he had no profound or 
 I /\ jcoherent. theory in politics, in religion, or even in 
 ^ \ criticism. He has been praised for his arguments, 
 and justly praised ; in a certain sense it is true that, 
 as he wrote himself, ' they cannot be good poets who 
 are not accustomed to argue well.' His logic made him 
 clear and his controversial tone increased his vigour, 
 but the logic is of the moment ; arguments for a given 
 position are readily found and well put, but there is 
 no system, not even in the matter of literary criticism. 
 
Character and Influence ig 
 
 In politics Dryden was a \Kin^s man ' — the / 
 word Tory did not come into use_ till after 1679. / 
 He held that the history of the past usurpation had 
 proved the practical necessity of monarchy, of a 
 limited monarchy, to the preservation of a free 
 constitution, and he was determined not at any price 
 to repeat the story of 1 642-1 659. But this is quite 
 different from the Tory as he is apt to be painted 
 by Whig historians. Dryden has no,..3ijperstition 
 about hereditary monarchy. He founds himself, not 
 upon Mivine right' but upon the action of *our 
 fathers ' and on practical experience. Thus, in The 
 Medal, he writes of ' our fathers ' : — 
 
 Who, to destroy the seeds of civil war, 
 Inherent right in monarchs did declare; 
 And, that a lawful power might never cease, 
 Secur'd succession to secure our peace. 
 
 Nor had he any religious feeling : he cannot be called 
 an Anglican, except perhaps for a few years after 
 1 68 1 ; but at no time had he any superstition about 
 non-resistance. His language in referring to the 
 Civil War is easily misapprehended if we do not 
 note his reticences and allow for the difficulty of his 
 position ; he condemns the Civil War generally in 
 terms which, inconsiderately construed, might seem 
 to cover approval of submission to the Star Chamber 
 and the imposition of Ship Money. But no such 
 approval nor any word in favour of arbitrary power, 
 whether in Charles I or Cromwell, will be found in 
 his writings, and on the contrary his pride in his 
 ancestors' resistance to arbitrary taxation comes 
 
20 Dryden's IVork, 
 
 out strongly in his Epistle to his cousin John 
 Driden : — 
 
 Patriots in peace assert the people's right, 
 With noble stubbornness resisting might : 
 No lawless mandates from the court receive, 
 Nor lend by force, but in a body give. 
 Such was your generous grandsire, free to grant 
 In parliaments that weigh'd their Prince's want: 
 But so tenacious of the common cause 
 As not to lend the king against his laws; 
 And, in a loathsome dungeon doom'd to lie, 
 In bonds retain'd his birth-right liberty. 
 And sham'd oppression, till it set him free. 
 
 There is no fair ground for doubt that such were 
 always his sentiments ; even in the poems of the 
 early Restoration, Astraea Redux and the Poem on 
 the Coronation of Chm^les II, we note the remarkable 
 absence of any praise of Charles I. It is so almost 
 everywhere ; the introduction of the phrase ' King 
 Charles the Martyr' in the preface to Religio Laid 
 startles an accustomed reader of Dryden, and is 
 obviously adopted for the special occasion in order 
 to give the Anglican tone. Nor indeed does the 
 description of Charles I as a ' martyr ' import a 
 general political approval of his conduct. 
 
 The destruction of the monarchy was passionately 
 disapproved by Dryden, and he regarded the exile 
 of Charles II as a fatal injustice. How it should 
 have been avoided he does not say, and did not 
 know, but this does not make his theoretical position 
 untenable ; it was doubtless that of thousands of his 
 contemporaries. As a critic of statesmen and policies 
 
Character and InflMence 21 
 
 he wa s n ot CQllsi5.tent. He was indeed no politician, 
 except as a poet at the time of the singular con- 
 junction of the yearv i68i> Generally speaking he 
 was inclined to think the King's policy right, and 
 therefore approved of the Triple Alliance in (i668, b 
 and of the Dutch War of 1672. In his subsequent / 
 criticism of Shaftesbury and others, he forgets or 
 ignores his own fluctuations — not an uncommon or 
 an unpardonable sin. 
 
 Absalom and Achitophel was the natural and 
 singularly happy_ outcome of his creed and habits. 
 A King's man had his opportunity at this crisis, for 
 undoubtedly in 1680 the King and his supporters 
 averted a ghastly catastrophe. Dryden was at this 
 moment prepared, spiritually and technically, and 
 the result was the finest political poem that exists. 
 Christie, it should be noted, attempts in his Memoir 
 of Dryden, prefixed to the Globe Edition of Dry den's 
 Poems, to show that Absalom and Achitophel is 
 merely one turn in a course without principles, and 
 that Dryden's opposition to Shaftesbury and the 
 Exclusionists was a sudden and arbitrary move to 
 recover ground with the King after supposed slack- 
 ness or disaffection. For this view I can see no 
 evidence at all ; caprice, dictated by partiality for 
 Shaftesbury, would seem to account for much in 
 Christie's Memoir. The political situation of 1681 
 and Dryden's sentiments are best considered when 
 we come to discuss Absalom and Achitophel in 
 detail'. 
 
 ' See below, p. 49. 
 
22 Dry dens Work, 
 
 So too Dryden's religious opinions will better be 
 discussed in connexion with his religious poems, or 
 /rather his poems of relig^bus jjplitics, Religio Laid 
 and The Hind and the Panther. Was his conversion 
 to Roman Catholicism, between the dates of these 
 two poems, sincere ? This is a chief point of con- 
 troversy for his biographers, and is not without 
 literary interest ; for if there is no reality in his 
 conversion, there is none in his religion. Both 
 poems are then grossly hypocritical and such a view 
 must affect our taste of them. Macaulay said of 
 Dryden that he 'knew little and cared little about 
 religion ' ; ' knew little ' is true, but ' cared little ' is 
 not quite true, at least not after the year 1680, when 
 he was approaching his fiftieth year. To a careful 
 observer, Dryden's conversion, whether genuine or 
 not, should be no surprise. 
 
 To turn to his critical opinions : he had a sound 
 instinct and taste for good things, for Shakespeare, 
 for instance, and for Milton. Expressions of his 
 admiration for Shakespeare are frequent in his critical 
 writings ; the best known is perhaps that in the 
 Essay of Dramatic Poesy : — 
 
 Shakespeare was the man who of all modern, and perhaps 
 ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul. 
 All the images of Nature were still present to him, and he 
 drew them, not laboriously, but luckily; when he describes 
 anything, you more than see it, you feel it too. Those who 
 accuse him to have wanted learning, give him the greater 
 commendation : he was naturally learned ; he needed not the 
 spectacles of books to read Nature ; he looked inwards, and 
 found her there. 
 
Character and Influence 23 
 
 Dryden had an early and enthusiastic admiration 
 for Paradise Lost and there is evidence of his close 
 study of Milton's early works, not only indirectly in 
 his own Song for St Cecilia s Day^ but also directly 
 in his criticism of Milton's rhymed work in the 
 Discourse concerning the Original and Progress of 
 Satire : — 
 
 Rhyme was not his talent; he had neither the ease of 
 doing it, nor the graces of it; which is manifest in his 
 Juvenilia^ or verses written in his youth, where his rhyme is 
 always constrained and forced, and comes hardly from him, 
 at an age when the soul is most pliant, and the passion of 
 love makes almost every man a rhymer, though not a poet. 
 
 Modern criticism will not adopt all that Dryden 
 says in the above passage. He was offended by the 
 laxness of structure in the early poems and also by 
 the not infrequent false emphasis on the rhyming 
 word produced by an otherwise purposeless inversion ; 
 as, for instance, the 'mantle blue' in Lycidas. He 
 differed from Milton on the desirability of using 
 rhyme in epic poetry, but neither this disagreement 
 nor his disapproval of Milton as a rhymer checked 
 his admiration, any more than did their differences 
 in politics or in religion. For Chaucer he had a 
 thorough appreciation, and a natural affinity with 
 him, as he himself recognised ; writing, in the 
 Preface to the Fables, of his translation of Chaucer's 
 work, he says : ' I found (if I may be permitted to 
 say it of myself) I had a soul congenial to his, and 
 that I had been conversant in the same studies.' 
 
 ^ See below, p. 185. 
 
24 Drydens Work, 
 
 / But in his literary views, as in other matters, 
 Dryden had no system. He sometimes changed 
 sides, as on the question of the use of rhyme in 
 drama, and was always eager for the opinion which 
 for the moment he held. Throughout these variations 
 he is always characterised by strong common sense. 
 He felt his way to improvements of practice, making 
 rules and theory twist as they must. 
 
 He was a good Latinist, well read in the Latin 
 orators and poets, from whom he learnt compactness 
 and force. His history of literature, on the other 
 hand, is second-hand and not trustworthy, and he 
 had not much Greek, then a speciality. He trans- 
 lated the first book of the Iliad, it is true, and wrote 
 a Life of Plutarch ; but this proves nothing as to his 
 scholarship in Greek. He seldom touches on Greek 
 literature and never shows more than a second-hand 
 acquaintance with it. His curious struggles over 
 the ' Unities ' I propose to discuss at length later 
 on^ ; the struggles and errors are of interest as 
 illustrating the general position of criticism at the 
 time. 
 
 In estimating Dryden it cannot be forgotten that 
 he sacrificed, at least on one occasion, judgement to 
 convenience : his horrible treatment of Shakespeare's 
 play of The Tempest cannot represent his better 
 mind. 
 
 His character was kindly ; he was fond of society, 
 but dififident with his superiors, and not a pushing 
 man. The description of him given by Congreve, 
 ^ See below, p. 1 1 7 ff- 
 
Character and Influence 25 
 
 the friend of his old age, is much better evidence of 
 this aspect of his character than any that can be 
 produced on the other side, and Congreve's account 
 is confirmed by the general tone of his dedications, 
 addresses, and so on. As regards his private con- 
 duct, he was certainly no model, but he gave no 
 scandal, and even in that age, when scandal was not 
 easily given, to avoid it meant something. Bishop 
 Burnet called him * a monster of immodesty and 
 impurity of all sorts,' but Burnet was no fair wit- 
 ness and even this phrase may be explained — and 
 was so explained by Burnet's son — as referring not 
 to Dryden's private character but to his plays. Even 
 the contemporary lampooners alleged nothing notable 
 against him. We may accept with confidence Con- 
 greve's words : ' Indeed Mr Dry den had personal 
 qualities to challenge both love and esteem from all 
 who were truly acquainted with him.' 
 
II 
 
 THE EPISTLES 
 
 The interest of Dryden's so-called Epistles lies 
 in the consideration of them as a series showing 
 the development of his literary skill. They cover 
 a period of nearly fifty years, from the Epistle to 
 John Hoddesdon, written in 1650, to the Epistle 
 to the poet's cousin, John Driden, written at the 
 end of 1699. 
 
 The name * Epistle ' is taken from Horace, but 
 there is no agreement except in name between the 
 Epistles of Horace and of Dryden ; the form of a 
 letter, regular in Horace, is rare with Dryden. 
 Only one of Dryden's, the letter to Sir George 
 Etherege, minister at Ratisbon, has the strict 
 epistolary form ; the others are Addresses in verse 
 on a particular, often a literary, occasion. A similar 
 use of the word ' Epistle ' to describe an address 
 or dedication is found in Dryden's prose Epistle to 
 the Whigs, accompanying his satire The Medal. 
 These addresses in fact, generally in praise of a 
 book and published with it, correspond with our 
 modern press-notices, and some of them have a 
 strong resemblance to ' log-rolling.' Thus Dryden's 
 
The Epistles 27 
 
 Epistle to Lee on his play of The Rival Queens^ 
 published in 1677, was a reply to Lee's compli- 
 mentary verses to Dry den prefixed to The Slate of 
 Innocence, and the situation is fully recognised in 
 Dryden's opening lines. To put the matter briefly, 
 we may say that many of these ' Epistles ' were in 
 , fact an advertisement of the volumes to which they 
 were prefixed. 
 
 Not all deserve comment, but an examination 
 in chronological sequence is not without value to 
 the student of Dryden. 
 
 The first is addressed ' To John Hoddesdon, 
 On his Divine Epigrams,' and was prefixed to a 
 volume of religious verse, called Sion and Parnassus ^ 
 written by a young man of eighteen, the ' Epigrams ' 
 being on various texts of the Bible. The book was 
 published in 1650, when Dryden himself was about 
 eighteen, and he is described in it as J. Dryden of 
 Trinity College. In criticising the metrical technique 
 of his verses it is interesting to remember that at a 
 later period Dryden declared that metrical technique 
 was not possible for the young. In some lines to 
 the memory of Oldham, who died in 1683, aged 
 about 30, Dryden writes : — 
 
 O early ripe ! to thy abundant store 
 What could advancing age have added more? 
 It might (what nature never gives the young) 
 Have taught the numbers of thy native tongue. 
 
 as if early work were generally deficient in metre. 
 This is in fact not true, but Dryden, we must not 
 forget, is always apt to speak for the occasion, and 
 
28 The Epistles 
 
 his sentiments however strongly expressed often 
 represent but a momentary feeling. Pope will 
 readily occur to us as an instance of early metrical 
 skill, and much of Shakespeare's work was written 
 before he was thirty. Not only therefore is Dry den's 
 opinion not true of youthful poets in general, but 
 skill in manipulation of verse is really characteristic 
 of the period at which he was then writing, when 
 there was a general diffusion of metrical knowledge 
 and training of the ear. Even Dryden's statement, 
 in the Essay of Dramatic Poesy, that 'the sweetness 
 of English verse was never understood or practised' 
 before the time of Waller, Denham, and their con- 
 temporaries is false, unless we interpret his words 
 in the sense of 'not generally appreciated.' Dryden 
 himself at the age of eighteen was thoroughly 
 trained, and, as this poem shows, wrote, not as a 
 boy does, but as men generally write. 
 
 There is however plenty to criticise in the poem : 
 take the first 1 6 lines : — 
 
 Thou hast inspir'd me with thy soul, and I, 
 Who ne'er before could ken of poetry. 
 Am grown so good proficient I can lend 
 Y A line in commendation of my friend. 
 
 Yet 'tis but of the second hand ; if aught 
 There be in this, 'tis from thy fancy brought. 
 Good thief who darest, Prometheus-like, aspire. 
 And fill thy poems with celestial fire, 
 Enliven'd by these sparks divine, their rays 
 Add a bright lustre to thy crown of bays. 
 Young eaglet, who thy nest thus soon forsook. 
 So lofty and divine a course hast took 
 
The Epistles 29 
 
 As all admire, before the down begin 
 
 To peep as yet upon thy smoother chin; 
 
 And, making Heaven thy aim, hast had the grace 
 
 To look the Sun of Righteousness in the face. 
 
 The general defects may be thus summarised : 
 (i) There is no correspondence between the 
 form and the sense. Thus the sense of the first 
 four lines is, 'after reading your epigrams, I, who 
 could not even form an opinion on poetry, can now 
 actually state my opinion in poetical shape,' whereas 
 the verse-form throws the emphasis upon 'lend' — 
 * lend A line in commendation of my friend.' 
 
 (2) The rhyme is often forced, a danger later 
 recognised by Dryden, both in the Preface to Annus 
 Mirabilis, where he says that verses made for the 
 sake of rhyme were practised by *our fathers,' and 
 again in the Essay of Dramatic Poesy, where he tells 
 us that 'some writers yet living... first taught us... to 
 make our rhyme so properly a part of the verse, 
 that it should never mislead the sense, but itself be 
 led and governed by it.' Obviously in the last line 
 but one of the above-quoted passage ' the grace * 
 falls under Dryden's own condemnation. 
 
 (3) There is a neglect of ' quantity,' that is of 
 the weight of syllables. In the Essay of Dramatic 
 Poesy, written in 1668, nearly twenty years after the 
 lines to Hoddesdon, Dryden expressly declares this 
 neglect of syllabic weight legitimate ; any dissyllable, 
 he says, makes a good foot of ordinary modern 
 verse. But his later practice does not conform with 
 this theory, and we do not long continue to find 
 
30 The Epistles 
 
 in his work such neglect of syllabic weight as in 
 the following :— 
 
 Enlivened by these sparks divine, their rays, 
 
 — ' thus soon,'' — ' hast took, — 
 May learn to make like in just praise of thee. 
 
 (4) There is a loose accumulation of images — 
 or 'conceits'; 'rays' add lustre to 'bays,' and 
 Hoddesdon is not only ' Prometheus-like,' but he 
 is an ' eaglet,' with as yet no ' down ' upon his 
 ' chin.' 
 
 On the other hand we have a good line in 
 V. 10: — 
 
 Add a bright lustre to thy crown of bays. 
 
 The sentiment of the poem is characteristic of 
 Dryden ; there is no real religion in it, no awe. 
 How else could he write : — 
 
 Thou hast commenc'd betimes a saint; go on, 
 Mingling diviner streams with Helicon, 
 That they who view what Epigrams here be, 
 May learn to make like, in just praise of thee. 
 
 Clearly Dryden's in|;erest was in ' Helicon ' and not 
 in the 'diviner streams.' 
 
 The next Epistle, written in 1660, and addressed 
 to Sir Robert Howard, who three years afterwards 
 became Dryden's brother-in-law, was prefixed to a 
 volume of Howard's poems, containing among other 
 things translations of the Achilleis of Statins, and 
 of the Fourth Book of the Aeneid. The praise is 
 indiscriminate ; Howard has improved both Statins 
 and Virgil ! But the figures are managed better — 
 
The Epistles 31 
 
 Howard himself is praised for his moderation in 
 metaphor— and the quantity and rhyme are in places 
 correct, according to the standard of Dryden's later 
 versification : — 
 
 Or is it Fortune's work, that in your head 
 The curious net that is for fancies spread 
 Lets through its meshes every meaner thought. 
 While rich ideas there are only caught? 
 Sure that's not all; this is a piece too fair 
 To be the child of chance, and not of care. 
 No atoms casually together hurl'd 
 Could e'er produce so beautiful a world; 
 Nor dare I such a doctrine here admit 
 As would destroy the providence of wit. 
 
 These lines are characteristic both of Dryden's 
 interest in the science of his day — rete mirabile was 
 the name of the network of blood-vessels at the 
 base of the brain — and of his irreverent handling 
 of theology. 
 
 At the end of 1662, or early in 1663, Dryden 
 prefixed a poem to a book in which Dr Charleton 
 propounded a theory about the building of Stone- 
 henge, which he attributed to the Danes, in opposi- 
 tion to Inigo Jones, who thought the work Roman. 
 Dryden's general praise of the new science, dating 
 from Bacon, is interesting as reflecting something 
 of the effect of his seven years' stay at Cambridge, 
 from 1650 to 1657. Of the four men of science 
 whom he praises, as successors of Bacon, all but 
 Boyle are Cambridge men. Two of them, Harvey 
 and Ent, were his own contemporaries, and Harvey's 
 book on the circulation of the blood was actually 
 
32 The Epistles 
 
 published at Cambridge during Dryden's under- 
 graduate days. 
 
 The introductory reference to Aristotle is 
 Dryden's first application of the couplet to 
 satire : — 
 
 The longest tyranny that ever sway'd 
 Was that wherein our ancestors betray'd 
 Their free-born reason to the Stagirite, 
 And made his torch their universal light. 
 So truth, while only one supplied the state, 
 Grew scarce and dear, and yet sophisticate; 
 Until 'twas bought, like empiric wares or charms, 
 Hard words seal'd up with Aristotle's arms. 
 
 In the following verses note the musical effect 
 produced by the repetition in three successive lines 
 of the same metrical pause — after the fourth syllable 
 — followed in each case by a similar clause. The 
 last two lines are a characteristic allusion to the 
 contemporary dream of the ' noble savage ' : — 
 
 Columbus was the first that shook his throne, 
 And found a temperate in a torrid zone, 
 The feverish air ^ fann'd by a cooling breeze. 
 The fruitful vales ^ set round with shady trees. 
 And guiltless men, ^ that danc'd away their time. 
 Fresh as their groves and happy as their clime. 
 
 The musical effect may be partly unconscious ; at 
 any rate there are some poor verses in the poem, 
 such, for instance, as the last of the lines in which, 
 again showing his interest in contemporary science, 
 he compares Charleton's cosmopolitan reputation 
 to the travels of light : — 
 
The Epistles 33 
 
 Whose fame, not circumscrib'd with English ground, 
 Fh'es like the nimble journeys of the light, 
 And is, like that, unspent too in its flight. 
 
 Then we come to a much finer piece of work. 
 Lady Castlemaine, Barbara Palmer, afterwards 
 Duchess of Cleveland — her character is not material 
 in this connexion — had patronised and rescued 
 Dryden's first play The Wild Gallant at the time 
 of its unsuccessful production on the stage early 
 in 1663, and to her an Epistle was addressed in 
 gratitude by the poet. There is evidence that 
 Dryden himself claimed merit for this poem of his. 
 Thus a contemporary satirist (in the Session of the 
 Poets, published 1670) writes: — 
 
 Dryden, who one would have thought had more wit, 
 
 The censure of every man did disdain. 
 Pleading some pitiful rhymes he had writ 
 
 In praise of the Countess of Castlemaine. 
 
 Scott's explanation of this allusion is not satisfactory; 
 he seeks in the Epistle itself authority for Dryden's 
 'pleading,' and finds it in the lines : — 
 
 True poets empty fame and praise despise ; 
 Fame is the trumpet, but your smile the prize. 
 
 But this does not show that he ' pleaded ' these lines 
 as a sufficient answer to universal censure ; indeed 
 Lady Castlemaine's opinion on The Wild Gallant, 
 a prose work, could not prove its author's poetical 
 merit. What the lines in the Session show is that 
 Dryden himself approved what the satirist pleases 
 to call the * pitiful rhymes ' addressed to Lady 
 Castlemaine. The explanation of Dryden's high 
 
 V. D. X 
 
34 The Epistles 
 
 opinion of this Epistle is perhaps that it is his first 
 masterpiece, the first poem, that is to say, without 
 technical flaw which he had produced. There is, 
 for instance, no case of false emphasis upon the 
 rhyme, such as occurs in the immediately preceding 
 Epistle to Dr Charleton : 'Flies... and is unspent 
 in its flight! Moreover, the gay extravagance of 
 the tone, its adaptation to its subject — it was the 
 first time that he had addressed a lady — the swift 
 movement of the verse, and the clearness of ex- 
 pression and thought mark it for distinction among 
 Dryden's works. I quote the whole : — 
 
 As seamen, shipwrack'd on some happy shore. 
 Discover wealth in lands unknown before. 
 And what their art had labour'd long in vain 
 By their misfortunes happily obtain, 
 So my much-envied Muse, by storms long tost, 
 Is thrown upon your hospitable coast, 
 And finds more favour by her ill success 
 Than she could hope for by her happiness. 
 Once Cato's virtue did the gods oppose, 
 While they the victor, he the vanquish'd chose : 
 But you have done what Cato could not do. 
 To choose the vanquish'd and restore him too. 
 Let others still triumph and gain their cause 
 By their deserts or by the world's applause; 
 Let merit crowns, and justice laurels give, 
 But let me happy by your pity live. 
 True poets empty fame and praise despise; 
 Fame is the trumpet, but your smile the prize. 
 You sit above, and see vain men below 
 Contend for what you only can bestow; 
 But those great actions others do by chance, 
 Are, like your beauty your inheritance : 
 
The Epistles 35 
 
 So great a soul, such sweetness joined in one, 
 
 Could only spring from noble Grandison. 
 
 You, like the stars, not by reflection bright, 
 
 Are born to your own heaven, and your own light; 
 
 Like them are good, but from a nobler cause. 
 
 From your own knowledge, not from Nature's laws. 
 
 Your power you never use but for defence. 
 
 To guard your own or others' innocence : 
 
 Your foes are such as they, not you, have made. 
 
 And virtue may repel, though not invade. 
 
 Such courage did the ancient heroes show. 
 
 Who, when they might prevent, would wait the blow; 
 
 With such assurance as they meant to say, 
 
 We will o'ercome, but scorn the safest way. 
 
 What farther fear of danger can there be? 
 
 Beauty, which captives all things, sets me free. 
 
 Posterity will judge by my success 
 
 I had the Grecian poet's happiness. 
 
 Who, waving plots, found out a better way; 
 
 Some god descended and preserv'd the play. 
 
 When first the triumphs of your sex were sung 
 
 By those old poets. Beauty was but young. 
 
 And few admir'd the native red and white. 
 
 Till poets dress'd them up to charm the sight; 
 
 So Beauty took on trust, and did engage 
 
 For sums of praises till she came to age. 
 
 But this long growing debt to poetry 
 
 You justly. Madam, have discharg'd to me. 
 
 When your applause and favour did infuse 
 
 New life to my condemn'd and dying Muse. 
 
 Scott is too severe on the comparison with 
 * Cato's virtue ' ; he writes : * There is however 
 little propriety in comparing the influence of the 
 royal mistress to the virtue of Cato.' But it is to 
 be remembered that * the gods,' opposed by Lady 
 
 3—2 
 
36 The Epistles 
 
 Castlemaine, are only theatrical critics, and that 
 ' Cato ' is merely an equivalent for judgement in- 
 dependent of fortune. Lucan's line is a stock 
 quotation and the familiarity with it of the reader 
 is assumed. The * ancient heroes,' who waited the 
 blow that they might have forestalled, are the com- 
 batants in the deliberate battles of Homer's Trojans 
 and Greeks. The ' Grecian poet ' is Euripides, and 
 the descending god is the deus ex machina. To 
 discuss the importance to Euripidean drama of the 
 introduction of the deus ex machina would carry us 
 too far from our proper subject ; those who are 
 interested will find my opinions expressed in my 
 writings on Euripides, in particular in Euripides the 
 Rationalist, To suppose, as Dryden appears to do, 
 that Euripides paid no attention to the plots of his 
 plays is sheer nonsense. 
 
 Were all these allusions intelligible to Lady 
 Castlemaine ? Presumably they were. The ad- 
 mirable nonsense of the conclusion — wit and beauty 
 both complimented — is certainly not adapted to a 
 stupid person. 
 
 The metrical skill is far beyond anything we 
 have yet seen ; note for instance the effect of the 
 three strong monosyllables at the end of the fifth 
 line: 'by storms I6ng tost.' But if we are to ask 
 whether the poem is really flawless, we must answer 
 No; there is at least one objectionable metrical 
 effect in the tenth line: 'he the vanquish'd chose.' 
 ' -quish'd ' is an uncomfortable syllable to shorten, 
 especially before such a sound as ' chose,' and 
 
The Epistles 37 
 
 though this defect could be avoided by the trans- 
 position of the two clauses — 'while he the vanquish'd, 
 they the victor chose ' — we should still be left with 
 the Latinism in the use of while, which, like the 
 Latin dum, is here used in the sense 'inasmuch as,' 
 referring back to the word 'once': once, namely 
 when he chose the vanquished, Cato opposed the 
 gods. But it is not easy to find any other flaw in 
 the poem. 
 
 The next Epistle, addressed to Lee and prefixed 
 to his tragedy published in 1677, has no metrical 
 flaws and no conceits. It contains the often quoted 
 lines : — 
 
 Prizes would be for lags of slowest pace, 
 Were cripples made the judges of the race. 
 
 Lee had written complimentary lines to Dryden 
 on the production, shortly before, of The State of 
 Innocence^ and Dryden's opening lines, as I have 
 said, show that he was aware that he laid himself 
 open to a charge of ' log-rolling ' : — 
 
 The blast of common censure could I fear, 
 Before your play my name should not appear; 
 For 'twill be thought, and with some colour too, 
 I pay the bribe I first receiv'd from you; 
 
 Such libels private men may well endure, 
 
 When States and Kings themselves are not secure. 
 
 The suggestion that * States ' and ' Kings ' may be 
 accused of mutual flattery is perhaps an allusion to 
 the political ' approach ' to Holland, due to Danby's 
 policy and the marriage of the Princess Mary with 
 
38 The Epistles 
 
 William of Orange, which took place in the year 
 1677. 
 
 The Epistle to the Earl of Roscomon was 
 prefixed in 1684 to an Essay on Translated Verse 
 by the Roscomon of Pope's Epistles who, among 
 the poets of the reign of Charles II, 'only boasts 
 unspotted bays.' Johnson in his Life of Roscomon 
 blames Dryden's praise as exaggerated, and it 
 certainly is excessive, but the poem is well worth 
 reading. It opens with a purely imaginary sketch 
 of the history of poetry : art transplanted from 
 Egypt or Phoenicia to Greece, there developed into 
 poetry and thence passed to Rome ; the interest to 
 the student of Dryden lies in his view of rhymed 
 verse : — 
 
 Till barbarous nations and more barbarous times 
 Debas'd the majesty of verse to rhymes; 
 Those rude at first; a kind of hobbling prose, 
 That limp'd along and tinkl'd in the close. 
 
 Then followed the Italian poetry of Dante and 
 Petrarch, in whom 
 
 we see 
 What rhyme improv'd in all its height can be; 
 At best a pleasing sound and fair barbarity. 
 
 He proceeds to praise aristocratic authors : — 
 
 To what perfection will our tongue arrive, 
 How will invention and translation thrive, 
 When authors nobly born will bear their part, 
 ****** 
 How will sweet Ovid's ghost be pleas'd to hear 
 His fame augmented by a British peer. 
 
The Epistles 39 
 
 The reader is reminded of the well known bathos 
 in Pope's address to Murray, 
 
 Grac'd as thou art, with all the power of words. 
 So known, so honour'd at the House of Lords. 
 
 Roscomon, who subsequently published com- 
 mendatory verses on Dryden's Religio Laid, is 
 sometimes lax in metre : — 
 
 Let free impartial men from Dryden learn 
 Mysterious secrets of high concern, 
 
 or if a proposed emendation of this last line, by 
 the insertion of ' a ' before * high,' be accepted, see 
 the later line : — 
 
 Hath too much mercy to send them to hell. 
 
 One strange slip in the metre we may note in 
 the second of the following lines from Dryden's 
 own poem : — 
 
 Now let the few belov'd by Jove, and they 
 
 Whom infused Titan form'd of better clay, 
 
 On equal terms with ancient wit engage, 
 
 Nor mighty Homer fear, nor sacred Virgil's page. 
 
 The next few Epistles call for little comment. 
 It is interesting to note, in the Epistle to Higden 
 (written probably in 1686), Dryden's rebuke of 
 personal satire. Higden had translated the Tenth 
 Satire of Juvenal, and Dryden compliments him on 
 his own approximation to the manner of Horace, 
 rather than to that of the author whom he was 
 translating : — 
 
 Yet you, my friend, have temper'd him so well, 
 You make him smile in spite of all his zeal : 
 
40 The Epistles 
 
 An art peculiar to yourself alone, 
 
 To join the virtues of two styles in one. 
 
 and speaking of personal satire, Dryden continues : — 
 
 It costs our quiet and content of mind, 
 
 And when 'tis compass'd leaves a sting behind. 
 
 Suppose I had the better end of the staff, 
 
 Why should I help the ill-natur'd world to laugh? 
 
 'Tis all alike to them who gets the day ; 
 
 They love the spite and mischief of the fray. 
 
 No, I have cur'd myself of that disease, 
 
 Nor will I be provok'd but when I please. 
 
 The Epistle to Etherege, written between 1685 
 and 1688, is a reply to one from Etherege to 
 Lord Middleton. It does not deserve Scott's praise: 
 ' Dryden happily retorts upon the witty knight 
 with his own weapons... and acquits himself as well 
 in the light arms of a polite and fashionable courtier, 
 as when he wields the trenchant brand of his own 
 keen satire.' The Epistle is written in octosyllabic 
 verse, a metre which, as we know from the Essay 
 on Satire^ Dryden despised. The poems of both 
 Etherege and Dryden are quite unquotable ; but 
 in Dryden's lines we may note the contemptuous 
 allusion to Buckingham's Rehearsal',— 
 
 The Duke St Aignon made a play. 
 If Gallic wit convince you scarce, 
 His Grace of Bucks has made a farce; 
 And you, whose comic wit is terse all, 
 Can hardly fall below Rehearsal. 
 Then finish what you have began. 
 But scribble faster if you can : 
 For yet no George, to our discerning, 
 Has writ without a ten years' warning. 
 
The Epistles 41 
 
 The Address to Sir Godfrey Kneller, written at 
 some undetermined date before 1694, is not very 
 interesting. In it, as in the Epistle to Roscomon, 
 we find Dryden's view of the effect of rhyme upon 
 poetry : — 
 
 Then all the Muses in one ruin lie, 
 And rhyme began to enervate poetry. 
 
 and in the next Hne he condemns ' a stupid miUtary 
 state,' thus recalHng to our notice the marked absence 
 in his lines on Oliver Cromwell of any commenda- 
 tion of military despotism. Later we have one of 
 his frequent allusions to Eden, and learn that the 
 art of poetry is older than the art of painting : — 
 
 Our arts are sisters, though not twins in birth, 
 For hymns were sung in Eden's happy earth 
 By the first pair, while Eve was yet a saint, 
 Before she fell with pride and learn'd to paint. 
 Forgive the allusion \ 'twas not meant to bite, 
 But Satire will have room, where'er I write. 
 
 Since the days of Eden, however, painting has 
 
 made the better bargain with the times : — 
 
 Thy pencil speaks the tongue of every land. 
 
 But in neither art is there any room for big 
 work : Kneller produces portraits ; Dryden has no 
 opportunity for the epic which was his ambition. 
 Then follows a satire on mankind's desire for 
 portraiture : — 
 
 Good Heaven ! that sots and knaves should be so vain, 
 To wish their vile resemblance may remain, 
 And stand recorded at their own request, 
 To future days, a libel or a jest ! 
 
42 The Epistles 
 
 Time will not permit me to quote the fine lines 
 in the Epistle to Congreve (1693 or 1694) beginning 
 ' O that your brows my laurel had sustained ' (this 
 same laurel a few years later, 1698, he proposes 
 to resign to Granville) ; but the Epistle to Con- 
 greve must not be overlooked by a student of 
 Dry den. 
 
 The Epistle to Motteux, a Huguenot who fled 
 to this country after the Revocation of the Edict of 
 Nantes, and became a successful playwright, was 
 published in 1698 and is mainly interesting for its 
 allusion to Jeremy Collier's attack on the immorality 
 and profaneness of the English stage, which had 
 appeared a few months earlier. Dryden's dislike of 
 clerics \ and his explanation of this sentiment, comes 
 out in the following lines : — 
 
 What I have loosely or profanely writ 
 Let them to fires, their due desert, commit : 
 Nor, when accus'd by me, let them complain ; 
 Their faults, and not their function, I arraign. 
 Rebellion, worse than witchcraft, they pursued; 
 The pulpit preach'd the crime, the people rued. 
 The stage was silenc'd; for the saints would see 
 In fields perform'd their plotted tragedy. 
 But let us first reform, and then so live 
 That we may teach our teachers to forgive; 
 Our desk be plac'd below their lofty chairs; 
 Ours be the practice, as the precept theirs. 
 
 The Address to Motteux concludes in a strain 
 of extravagant adulation, which can hardly be 
 sincere : — 
 
 ^ See also below, p. 148. 
 
The Epistles 43 
 
 But whence art thou inspir'd, and thou alone, 
 To flourish in an idiom not thy own? 
 
 ♦ ****♦ 
 
 Words, once niy stock, are wanting to commend 
 So great a poet and so good a friend. 
 
 The Epistle to his cousin, John Driden of 
 Chesterton, was written in the last year of Dryden s 
 life and published shortly before his death in 1 700. 
 John Driden was a squire living at Chesterton, near 
 Stilton in Huntingdonshire, a member of Parliament, 
 belonging to the ' Country Party ' whose politics 
 were in opposition to the government of William III, 
 and a bachelor. On the latter point, as has been 
 seen, he is congratulated by Dryden : — 
 
 Minds are so hardly match'd that even the first, 
 Though pair'd by Heaven, in Paradise were curs'd. 
 
 and recurring to the problem of the Temptation, a 
 favourite subject with him, he concludes : — 
 
 Each might have stood perhaps, but each alone ; 
 Two wrestlers help to pull each other down. 
 
 In his picture of the hare as an emblem of 
 human life, we have an autobiographical touch ; 
 during his later years, Dryden constantly visited 
 his native county of Northampton : — 
 
 The hare in pastures or in plains is found, 
 Emblem of human life; who runs the round, 
 And, after all his wandering ways are done. 
 His circle fills and ends where he begun, 
 Just as the setting meets the rising sun. 
 
 That the allusion in the above lines is a personal 
 
44 The Epistles 
 
 one is to my mind proved by the immediately 
 following allusions to James II, then living in exile 
 at St Germain : — 
 
 Thus princes ease their cares; but happier he, 
 Who seeks not pleasure through necessity, 
 Than such as once on sUppery thrones were plac'd, 
 And chasing, sigh to think themselves are chas'd. 
 
 The last word is a Gallicism almost amounting to 
 a pun, for * chased ' there means of course chassd, 
 'driven away,' not 'hunted,' while the earlier 
 ' chasing ' alludes to the hunting in the famous 
 forest of St Germain. 
 
 In the next lines where the art of the physician 
 is depreciated, and scientific curiosity discouraged, 
 the opportunity is seized for an attack upon Sir 
 Richard Blackmore, the poet and physician of the 
 day, who had published a translation of Virgil : — 
 
 But Maurus sweeps whole parishes, and peoples every grave, 
 
 And no more mercy to mankind will use 
 
 Than when he robb'd and murder'd Maro's muse. 
 
 But some use there is in drugs, and with the 
 problem of the Temptation still haunting him, he 
 writes of quinine or Peruvian bark as it was then 
 called : — 
 
 The tree of knowledge, once in Eden plac'd, 
 Was easy found, but was forbid the taste ; 
 O, had our grandsire walk'd without his wife, 
 He first had sought the better plant of life ! 
 Now both are lost : yet wandering in the dark, 
 Physicians for the tree have found the bark. 
 
 The politics of John Driden, and his position 
 as a member of Parliament, give Dryden the 
 
The Epistles 45 
 
 opportunity of describing the conduct of those 
 who, using the just mean, 
 
 Nor gratify whate'er the great desire, 
 
 Nor grudging give what public needs require. 
 
 where note the Latinisms 'gratify whate'er' and 
 ' nor grudging give,' in the sense *and give without 
 grudging.' His own policy is expressed a few lines 
 later : — 
 
 Safe in ourselves, while on ourselves we stand, 
 The sea is ours, and that defends the land. 
 
 Some reflexions on Dutch valour here followed, but 
 were omitted in the published poem at the request 
 of John Driden, and we pass on to a description of 
 Prerogative and Privilege as two balanced streams : — 
 
 One must not ebb nor t'other overflow. ' 
 
 % ^ * % % 
 
 When both are full, — 
 
 they are like — what .^^ — the rivers that watered the 
 garden of Eden ! The garden of Eden again for 
 the third time in this poem ! 
 
 When both are full, they feed our blest abode. 
 Like those that water'd once the Paradise of God. 
 
 After a complimentary reference to the patriots 
 who resisted Charles I — a passage reflecting Dry- 
 den's real feeling^, though invidiously meant as a 
 side-stroke against the support of William III by 
 the City : — 
 
 Such was your generous grandsire, free to grant 
 In parliaments that weigh'd their Prince's want : 
 
 ^ See above, pp. 19, 20. 
 
46 The Epistles 
 
 But so tenacious of the common cause 
 As not to lend the king against his laws; 
 
 the poem concludes with a characteristic instance 
 of Dryden's recklessness in facile compliment to the 
 person or, it may be, the assembly that he is ad- 
 dressing : with apology, he equals his cousin to 
 himself : — 
 
 Nor think the kindred Muses thy disgrace; 
 A poet is not born in every race. 
 Two of a house few ages can afford, 
 One to perform, another to record. 
 Praiseworthy actions are by thee embrac'd; 
 And 'tis my praise to make thy praises last. 
 For even when death dissolves our human frame, 
 The soul returns to Heaven from whence it came, 
 Earth keeps the body, verse preserves the fame. 
 
Ill 
 
 ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL 
 
 The fourteen years between the appearance of 
 Annus Mirabilis and Absalom and A chit op he I were 
 mainly occupied by Dryden with dramatic work. 
 As drama, the work was unsatisfactory ; Dryden 
 himself, it is true, makes a case for his successive 
 attempts, but tells us that one play only — All for 
 Love, on the subject of Shakespeare's Antony and 
 Cleopatra and written in blank verse — was written 
 'for himself \' His comedies, in prose, were not on 
 the whole successful ; his tragedies or heroic plays, 
 on the other hand, were very popular and had made 
 him famous by the year 1 67 1 when an attack was made 
 upon him in Buckingham's play of The Rehearsal, 
 under the name of ' Bayes,' an allusion to his recent 
 laureateship. The tragedies were almost wholly in 
 rhyme — ten-syllabled couplets of course — neither 
 the large stanza nor the so-called ' Pindaric ' form of 
 verse, with its irregular rhymes, being conceivable 
 as the common material for drama. 
 
 The heroic play falls outside the scheme of these 
 lectures ; here I can only briefly note that Dryden 
 
 ^ See below, p. 238. 
 
48 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 was without dramatic faculty proper — the power, 
 that is, to conceive character and express it in 
 dialogue — nor was he skilful in the invention of a 
 story. Thus he necessarily relied on the quality of 
 his verse, its smartness, point, and music, qualities, 
 in fact, such as are shown in his Address to Lady 
 Castlemaine. Rapid production was necessary for 
 profit, and this necessity gave him immense practice 
 in the making of the heroic couplet. What he said 
 at the end of his life about his facility for producing 
 verse, by which he meant the couplet, was probably 
 true by the year 1680 : — 
 
 Thoughts, such as they are, come crowding in so fast 
 upon me, that my only difficulty is to choose or to reject, to 
 run them into verse, or to give them the other harmony of 
 prose : I have so long studied and practised both, that they 
 are grown into a habit, and become familiar to me. {Preface 
 to the Fables^ 1700.) 
 
 But hitherto he had made no worthy application of 
 this skill. Had Dryden died in 1680, when he was 
 approaching the age of 50 years, he would hardly 
 have left with posterity a second-rate reputation : 
 Annus Mirabilis was not sufficient in finish, and 
 the Epistles were not substantial enough. 
 
 His ambition is shown in Annus Mirabilis and 
 definitely explained in the Preface to that poem. 
 He wanted a story combining reality with greatness 
 of national and public interest, to be treated with a 
 corresponding elevation of style after the accepted 
 method of the classical epic. But in Annus Mira- 
 bilis he attained only a limited success : history 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 49 
 
 would not present a theme of convenient unity and 
 classical ornament was ill adapted to familiar detail. 
 
 His opportunity came with the crisis of 1678- 
 168 1, and the proposal to exclude from the succes- 
 sion to the throne the King's brother, the Duke of 
 York, in favour of his illegitimate son, the Duke of 
 Monmouth. Here was a national episode immensely 
 important and exciting, with a compact, simple issue 
 almost expressible as a single situation ; the details 
 and progress of the story might be omitted or sum- 
 marised, and the characters merely described in 
 epigrams, Dryden's forte, and not developed by self- 
 expression, a thing that was beyond his powers. 
 
 Some knowledge of the politics of the moment, 
 as seen from Dryden's point of view, is necessary to 
 a comprehension of the poem ; the following summary 
 must here suffice. Dryden believed in the vital 
 importance of the monarchy, as the basis of natural 
 structure and the centre of sentiment. Recent events 
 had provided an apparently decisive experiment on 
 .this point. The King had been opposed and de- 
 throned with most plausible reason ; — and here I 
 would emphasise the point that we have no ground 
 whatever to suppose that Dryden ever retracted 
 the view of the contest between Charles I and the 
 Parliament in which he was brought up. The exe- 
 cution of the King was another matter ; but, as 
 I have said before\ Dryden never took the High 
 Anglican, the ' Royal Martyr,' view. But in spite of 
 the plausible reason, the result of the dethronement 
 ^ See above, p. 20. 
 
 V. D. 4 
 
so Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 of Charles I was the general collapse of the system 
 of government, for it proved irreplaceable, except 
 by military despotism or anarchy, from which a 
 narrow escape was won by the restoration of the 
 royal line. 
 
 Hereditary title then was apparently essential to 
 the maintenance of monarchy, for a Parliamentary 
 title was insecure and invited meddling ; and the 
 hereditary title did in fact — and this is a vital point — 
 satisfy public sentiment. The earlier history of the 
 country supplied decisive experiments. The Lan- 
 castrians, for instance, had a Parliamentary title to 
 the throne, but the Wars of the Roses showed the 
 weakness of their position ; and an hereditary title 
 was the foundation of the stability of the Tudors, 
 for an essential condition of the accession of 
 Henry VH was his marriage with Elizabeth, heiress 
 to the title of Edward IV and the house of York. 
 Later again the prevalence of a natural hereditary 
 title over all legal arrangements was illustrated in 
 the case of the family of Henry VH. After the 
 succession, in due hereditary order, of Henry VUI's 
 three children, Edward, Mary and Elizabeth, in 
 spite of the will of Henry VHI, made after Parlia- 
 mentary sanction, the succession passed without any 
 difficulty to the natural heir, James VI of Scotland. 
 In view therefore of past experience, attachment to 
 hereditary succession was not necessarily a mere 
 superstition. 
 
 But the circumstances of the royal family in 
 1678 put sentiment to a violent strain. There was 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 51 
 
 strong objection to a Roman Catholic Government 
 in England irrespective of questions of theology. 
 The alienation of the Church Lands presented 
 problems of great difficulty, as had been manifest 
 in the reign of Mary, and was again shown in the 
 formal renunciation by the English Benedictine 
 monks of the abbey-lands held by the Order before 
 the Reformation — a refusal of 'your gold' by 'that 
 pious Joseph in the Church' which however failed in 
 its purpose\ Further, the position of the English 
 Church was closely connected with the influence 
 of the Crown as ' Head of the Church,' and be- 
 sides these general objections to a Roman Catholic 
 Government in England, there were special objec- 
 tions to the French Catholicism of the day, whose 
 unique pretension and intolerance had made of it an 
 instrument of despotic government, which passing 
 from measures of gradually increasing severity 
 against Protestants to the dragonnades of 1681, was 
 shortly to culminate in the Revocation, in 1685, of 
 the Edict of Nantes. The King was suspected, 
 and justly suspected, of French Catholicism, though 
 his disclaimer was generally believed by good sub- 
 jects of the Crown ; the heir to the throne, James, 
 Duke of York, was known to be a French Catholic, 
 and a man of obstinate and violent character. On 
 the other hand, James's eldest daughter, the heiress 
 to the throne in default of male issue, was a Pro- 
 testant and was married to a Protestant prince. 
 
 ^ To this renunciation Dryden refers in his marginal note on 
 the above-quoted passage in The Hind and the Panther Pt. ii 646. 
 
 4—2 
 
52 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 And besides these uncertainties for the future, 
 various acts of mismanagement on the part of the 
 Government, as well as a certain amount of ill luck, 
 had produced a feeling of general discontent. 
 
 In May 1679, there was introduced into the 
 House of Commons a Bill proposing to exclude the 
 Duke of York from the succession to the Crown, on 
 the ground of his religion ; the ' Exclusion Bill ' 
 ^A^was the work of the Whig party, led by the Earl 
 *e of Shaftesbury. The Abhorrers, afterwards called 
 Tories, were opposed to any alteration of the natural 
 succession. A strong case could be made out on 
 both sides, and the feeling throughout the country 
 was increased by certain exasperating circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Chief among these was the Popish Plot. Whole- 
 sale allegations of conspiracy and disloyalty were 
 brought by Titus Oates, and other scoundrels of his 
 type, against the Roman Catholics ; the Queen her- 
 self was accused of a proposal to assassinate the 
 King. There was beyond all question much lying 
 and immense exaggeration, but probably a founda- 
 tion for some of the charges ; in Dryden's words : — 
 
 Succeeding times will equal folly call 
 Believing nothing or believing all. 
 
 The Popish Plot temporarily strengthened the Ex- 
 clusionist party, but ultimately discredited them, 
 when the first panic was followed by a natural revul- 
 sion and disgust ; it is this latter phase which is 
 represented by Dryden's poem. 
 
Absaloin and Achitophel 53 
 
 The other circumstance which increased the 
 national tension was the claim of Monmouth, the 
 King's eldest son. The Duke of Monmouth was 
 notoriously illegitimate and his mother was a woman 
 ^Lpf no position, but he was a favourite of his father, 
 and himself a striking figure. He was handsome, 
 wealthy, gracious, and popular, and his popularity 
 was increased by a vague and unfounded claim to 
 legitimacy based on the reported marriage of Charles 
 to his mother. By a fatal blunder or necessity on 
 the part of the Exclusionist leaders, the Whig party 
 favoured Monmouth's claim and threatened to force 
 him on the King as his successor by a Parliamentary 
 title. The policy was impossible; it roused a revolt 
 of natural honesty, for there was no shred of evi- 
 dence of Monmouth's legitimacy. The weakness 
 of his title was pleaded by the Exclusionists as an 
 advantage, on the ground that 'the weaker the title, 
 the better the king.' But such an argument pointed 
 directly to a republic and to anarchy, to the certainty 
 of civil war such as had been recently experienced, 
 and to the probability of invasion ; for Mary, the 
 legitimate Protestant heiress, was married to the 
 Protestant prince who was next in succession after 
 the family of James, Duke of York. 
 
 Nevertheless the Exclusion Bill was carried in 
 the House of Commons. It was rejected in the 
 House of Lords, largely owing to the exertions of 
 Halifax, and the King thereupon dissolved Parlia- 
 ment. That the next Parliament was announced 
 to meet at Oxford shows the exasperation of the 
 
54 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 situation ; the City of London was the stronghold of 
 the Whig party. This Oxford Parliament was almost 
 immediately dissolved. The King was in an im- 
 pregnable position; he need not summon Parliament 
 for three years, for he did not want money and so 
 could give time for sentiment and reason to prevail. 
 By the end of 1681 the tide had turned, and till the 
 tension was removed both the Duke of York and 
 Monmouth were sent out of the country. 
 
 The actual motives and character of Shaftesbury 
 we need not here discuss ; in the royalist view he 
 was the seducer of the young Monmouth. In July 
 1681 he was arrested on a charge of high treason 
 and in November he was brought to trial in the 
 City. By the favour of a London jury, who threw 
 out the Bill, he escaped for the moment, but later 
 he lost control of the City and the next year had to 
 save his life by flying to Holland. Just before the 
 first accusation came on for trial, in Novemhg^; 1681, 
 Dryden brought out Absalom and Achitophel} 
 
 The poem is an announcement and a prophecy 
 of the royal triumph, and an appeal to the nation 
 for grateful acquiescence. 
 
 Its plan is one of extreme simplicity, a situation 
 rather than a story. A young illegitimate prince is 
 seduced into rebellion by the art of a treacherous 
 statesman ; he is taught to cultivate popularity and 
 does so with dangerous success. All this is stated 
 in outline and abstraction only. The prince's posi- 
 tion becomes a national danger owing to the caprice 
 of the mob. Sketches, again abstract with slight 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 55 
 
 identifying touches, are given of his principal sup- 
 porters and of some of the loyal minority. The 
 King is moved to interfere. His protest and his 
 paternal threat allay the tumult. 
 
 The tone in the main is lofty and dignified, 
 especially in the principal parts, as for instance in 
 the scene of the temptation and of the King's pro- 
 nouncement. The speeches are proper to epic or 
 grave drama, such as we should expect in a heroic 
 poem or play ; the work, indeed, is called by Dryden 
 a poem and not a satire. Occasional archaisms, 
 foreign to Dryden's own natural style, point directly 
 to the influence of the English * epics,' The Faerie 
 Queene and Paradise Lost — this last then just 
 coming, witb Dryden's help, into fame and vogue. 
 Take for instance, the line : — 
 
 Him staggering so when Hell's dire agent found... (3 7 3) 
 
 Such inversion is not common in Dryden, nor is it 
 in the manner proper to a narrative about contem- 
 porary politicians, or historical personages as such ; 
 jt is obviously Miltonic, and a Latinism, ^and so 
 carries with it a suggestion of Milton's Satan. And 
 a comparison between the temptation of Monmouth 
 and that of Adam is actually made by Dryden in> 
 the prefatory address, * To the Reader ' : — '^^ 
 
 But since the most excellent natures are always the most 
 easy and, as being such, are the soonest perverted by ill 
 counsels, especially when baited with fame and glory, it is 
 no more a wonder that he withstood not the temptations of 
 Achitophel than it was for Adam not to have resisted the 
 two devils, the serpent and the woman. 
 
""56^ Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 Further, the verse, especially in these main parts 
 of the structure, is the very purest in style and most 
 musical in sound which Dryden could compass, 
 that is to say, the best in its kind of which English 
 has been found capable. And note that Dryden 
 himself emphatically asks attention to this point. It 
 is by sweetness of verse that the poem, otherwise 
 perilous in theme, and to some repellent, is to win 
 its way : — 
 
 |-. Yet if a poem have a genius, it will force its own recep- 
 
 J tion in the world; for there is a sweetness in good verse, 
 which tickles even while it hurts; and no man can be 
 heartily angry with him who pleases him against his will. 
 
 / There is however a difficulty in applying 'heroic' 
 treatment to contemporary politics, owing to the 
 familiarity of the subject-matter and of the terms. 
 Hence there is a danger that the style would be 
 degraded by these, not they elevated by the style, 
 and the result be a clumsy mock-heroic not so in- 
 tended by the writer. Even the words 'Parliament/ 
 ' Chancellor,' ' Cabinet,' are dangerous ; much more 
 'Mayor,' * Sheriff,' ']\ivy' \ and more still 'writ,' 
 'bill,' * committee,' 'supply.' 
 
 This difficulty is met by the happy device of a 
 Biblical parallel, where David, Absalom, and Achi- 
 \J' tophel represent respectively Charles, Monmouth, 
 /^ and Shaftesbury. Neither the Biblical parallel in 
 general, nor even this particular parallel, was in- 
 vented by Dryden. It was obvious enough, and 
 it was indeed a common habit in political sermons 
 to compare Charles with David. Indeed he had 
 
 4- 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 57 
 
 been likened to David by Dryden himself in hisy 
 Astraea Redux (published in 1 660) : — 
 
 Thus banish'd David spent abroad his time, 
 When to be God's anointed was his crime. 
 
 and Dryden had been pressed to develop the parallel 
 by Lee in the Commendatory Verses prefixed to the 
 State of Innocence seven years before : — 
 
 Monarch of verse ! new themes employ thy pen. 
 The troubles of majestic Charles set down; 
 Not David vanquish'd more to reach a crown. 
 Praise him as Cowley did that Hebrew king : 
 Thy theme's as great ; do thou as greatly sing. 
 
 The comparison between Absalom and Monmouth 
 had already been used by more than one writer in 
 prose and verse ; thus Scott quotes from a small 
 tract called Absalom's Conspiracy : or the Tragedy 
 of Treason, and this is not the only case. The 
 name of Absalom for Monmouth, like that of David 
 for the King, was probably common in sermons, and 
 the allusion could not be missed. '^'''''''^-'-''^'^^-— ^ 
 
 But Dryden was nevertheless profoundly originalT 
 The^ JBjlblical_paral|el,, i? A\spi^Q j^dtm^-t^he- ' heroic 
 style' 'Sanhedrin' and 'Abbethdin' would bear a_ 
 treatment which ' Parliament ' and * Chancellor ' 
 could not, and in the same way generally the Biblical 
 terminology was a thing of dignity. It should be 
 noted that the actual parallel is very slight : there 
 is no 'Sanhedrin' in the story of David, nor any 
 resemblance between the 'Sanhedrin' and the British 
 Parliament. Nor is there any attempt to press the 
 parallel ; the treatment of contemporary events on 
 
58 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 / abstract lines, and the comparison with the Biblical 
 /. story, is necessary on pain of absurdity. The 
 I scheme is admirably conceived and carried out. 
 
 Even so the translation of modern terms into 
 Biblieal language might easily tire the reader and 
 become silly. It does become so in the so-called 
 Second Part of Absalom and Achitophel^ a supple- 
 mentary work in which Dryden had but a small share. 
 There the characters are multiplied so as to suggest 
 a whole House of Lords with Hebrew names, and to 
 take a specific instance, Christopher Monck, second 
 Duke of Albemarle, having become Chancellor of 
 the University of Cambridge, is said to preside over 
 * the Prophets' school,' * Prophets ' being the term 
 regularly applied to the clergy. Even Dryden's 
 own contributions to Part ii are open to the same 
 objection. When he replies to the satirising poets, 
 there is very little fun in using the names of * Og ' 
 for Shadwell and * Doeg ' for Settle. To estimate 
 Absalom and Achitophel fairly, and to feel it, Part i 
 must be taken for what it is, a finished work, 
 rounded, complete. 
 
 An important question to be determined is, in 
 what sense is Absalom and Achitophel a ' satire ' .'* 
 It is not so described by the author, whose title for 
 it is 'Absalom and Achitophel. A Poem'; and it 
 should be compared, or rather contrasted, with his 
 attack on Shaftesbury and his party in the following 
 year, which he calls * The Medal. A Satire against 
 Sedition.' Absalom and Achitophel is however 
 commonly classified as a satire. It does not fit any 
 
 r:, 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 59 
 
 other known class, such for instance as *epic,' and 
 it does contain important satiric elements in the 
 portraits, of which the representation of Buckingham 
 as Zimri may be taken as a specimen. The figure 
 of Achitophel is partly 'satiric,' that is to say,st is 
 intended as a hostile picture of the man Shaftesbury. 
 And it is these elements or passages in the work, 
 partly because they are detachable and quotable, 
 that are perhaps the best known. But they do not 
 cover the type, and if we must classify the poem, it 
 is best to call it an ^ epyllion, or epic in miniature, 
 comprising satiric elements.' I emphasise the first 
 part of this description ; the gorgeous Muse of 
 Satire comes sweeping by, draped in robes bor- 
 rowed from her more august sisters Epic and 
 Tragedy, but the robes are essential to the per- 
 formance. 
 
 The work is really unique ; there is no parallel 
 in Dryden or elsewhere known to me. It bears 
 no resemblance as a whole to Roman satire, as we 
 know it in Horace, Persius, and Juvenal. An ana- 
 logy has been alleged to Juvenal's Fourth Satire, 
 That satire, it is true, is a story and does comprise 
 satiric portraits of individuals : Domitian summons 
 his council to discuss the cooking of a remarkably 
 fine turbot and the various councillors are described. 
 But it is more than doubtful if Dryden owed any- 
 thing to this work. The formal resemblance is 
 slight, and the substance and spirit are totally diffe- 
 rent. Juvenal's piece is essentially dependent on 
 an undignified theme, Dryden's on a dignified one ; 
 
 \ 
 
6o Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 Juvenal neither gives nor could give anything like 
 the scene of the Temptation. 
 
 Still less does Absalom and Achitophel resemble 
 Dryden's own recipe or instructions for modern 
 satire, given in his Discourse concerning the Original 
 and Progress of Satire, a rambling and colloquial 
 essay, prefixed to translations from the Latin satirists 
 eleven years later, in 1693. There are reasons for 
 pressing this point. Dryden's incidental reference 
 to Absalom and Achitophel in his Discourse is loose 
 and injurious. He depreciates satire (by which he 
 means railing against individuals) as doubtfully legiti- 
 mate, and this he does partly from religious motives, 
 malice and even revenge being unlawful. In this 
 attitude he is probably sincere ; his own satires, 
 properly so-called, are almost all replies to^- attacks 
 made upon him. But he has a deeper -feason for 
 his depreciation ; ' satire ' could hardly be sweet and 
 noble, and for these qualities, sweetness and nobility, 
 Dryden has a passion. This comes out in his com- 
 parison of Juvenal and Horace. Juvenal, he says 
 in the Discourse, is eloquent, indignant, violent ; 
 Horace is playful, light, insinuating. Dryden per- 
 sonally prefers Juvenal for * pleasure,' because his 
 tone admits a more 'sonorous and more noble' style, 
 and a more 'numerous' — by which he means musical 
 — verse, whereas Horace naturally adopts a conver- 
 sational tone and a style which Dryden calls Mow.' 
 Whether this is a just view we do not now enquire. 
 But in spite of his personal preference, Dryden 
 admits and insists that the playful, gentle tone of 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 6i 
 
 Horace is in itself better and more conducive to the 
 true end of satire : 'Let the chastisement of Juvenal 
 be never so necessary... let him declaim as wittily 
 and sharply as he pleases ; yet still the nicest and 
 most delicate touches of satire consist in fine raillery.' 
 In this connexion he cites his own Zimri (Bucking- 
 ham), saying truly that he rather plays with 
 Buckingham than denounces him, treating of his 
 foibles (' blindsides'), and not, for instance, of his 
 political perfidies and cruel vengeances: *I avoided 
 the mention of great crimes, and applied myself to 
 the representing of blindsides and little extrava- 
 gancies.' He has just stated that the character of 
 Zimri is, in his opinion, ^ worth the whole poem : it 
 is not bloody, but it is ridiculous enough.' If by 
 this statement Dryden means that the whole poem 
 would be sufficiently justified by producing the pas- 
 sage on the character of Zimri, it may^be true, but 
 it is not important. If it means"Eh3t, as a fact, the 
 essential merit of Absalom and Achitophel lies in 
 such passages, then it is an instance of Dryden's 
 carelessness and habit of emphasising the theme of 
 the moment. He did not seriously think so in 1693, 
 or when he wrote Absalom and Achitophel, or ever. 
 It is a significant fact that in the Discourse, while 
 professing to treat satire, Dryden is haunted and 
 obsessed by 'epic' and ^heroic poetry.' He cannot 
 get to his proper subject; a large part (about a fifth) 
 of the essay is spent on Spenser, on Milton, on 
 their machinery, on his own conceptions of better 
 machinery, on the subjects on which he would 
 
v^ 
 
 r 
 
 62 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 himself like to write an epic, such as King Arthur and 
 the Black Prince, on 'Guardian Angels of countries,' 
 — all this most interestingly put but formally irrele- 
 vant. Dryden notes his own irrelevance and appears 
 puzzled at it. It is not, however, so strange ; his 
 own chief 'Satire' is really an epic, and is his nearest 
 approach to his real ambition : 'an Heroic Poem is 
 certainly the greatest work of human nature.' 
 
 The ' satire ' in Absalom and Achitophel is toned 
 down to suit his general purpose and to allow attrac- 
 tive sweetness. He says so in his Preface to the 
 poem : ' I confess I have laid in for those [the 
 more moderate sort], by rebating the satire, where 
 justice would allow it, from carrying too sharp an 
 edge,' where the reader should observe that the 
 'satire' which he rebates is not the poem as a whole, 
 but the severity of personal passages. The character 
 of Absalom is not a satire at all. For this there was 
 no doubt a special motive in the King's affection for 
 Monmouth : ' the fault on the right hand is to ex- 
 tenuate, palliate, and indulge; and, to confess freely, 
 I have endeavoured to commit it. Besides the 
 respect which I owe his birth, I have a greater for 
 his heroic virtues ; and David himself could not be 
 more tender of the young man's life, than I would 
 be of his reputation.' In Achitophel the satire is 
 much blunted and the traits generalised ; in these 
 respects it offers a strong contrast with the treat- 
 ment in The Medal, Shaftesbury's physical infirmity 
 and puny appearance is noted in our poem with a 
 gentle touch : — 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 63 
 
 A fiery soul, which working out its way, 
 
 Fretted the pigmy body to decay 
 
 And o'er-inform'd the tenement of clay. 
 
 This attitude was strengthened on a revision of t;he 
 poem, and Shaftesbury is praised as a judge : — 
 
 Yet fame deserv'd no enemy can grudge ; 
 The statesman we abhor, but praise the judge. 
 In Israel's courts ne'er sat an Abbethdin 
 With more discerning eyes or hands more clean, 
 Unbrib'd, unsought, the wretched to redress, 
 Swift of despatch, and easy of access. 
 
 Even the description of Oates (Corah) shows re- 
 serve. All this is congenial to Dryden's temper 
 and necessary for the nobility and 'sweetness' of 
 what, following his title, we must call the poem, 
 which we may now consider in some detail. 
 
 The Poem 
 
 The central and all important episode is the 
 T emptat ion. Here we must read minutely and \ 
 with careful attention to metrical effects, in order to 
 note the appeal of the actual verse. 
 
 Observe first the dignity of the introductory 
 passage, and the rise in poetical ornament : — 
 
 Achitophel still wants a chief, and none 
 
 Was found so fit as warlike Absalon. 
 
 Not that he wish'd his greatness to create. 
 
 For politicians neither love nor hate; 
 
 But, for he knew his title not allow'd 
 
 Would keep him still depending on the crowd, 
 
 That kingly power, thus ebbing out, might be 
 
 Drawn to the dregs of a democracy. 
 
64 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 \ Him he attempts with studied arts to please 
 And sheds his venom in such words as these. 
 
 (220 ff.) 
 
 The passage has two figures: 'ebbing out... 
 
 drawn to the dregs of a democracy' and 'sheds his 
 
 venom'; the first is a favourite figure of Dryden's 
 
 and is verbally repeated by him elsewhere {Hind and 
 
 r Panther i 211); the other suggests both the serpent 
 
 j and the toad of Milton {P. L. Books ix and iv) 
 
 ! whose style is also recalled by the Latin archaism 
 
 [ ' him he attempts.' 
 
 The language of this passage is simplicity and 
 plainness itself; all the words are in current use. 
 Hence the effect of sneers produced by the two 
 words of Greek derivation, * politicians ' and * demo- 
 cracy.' I do not mean that the effect of introducing 
 words of Greek derivation into a passage otherwise 
 purely English is necessarily sneering, but that it 
 marks some distinction. All good English com- 
 posers study this matter of ' keys ' and utilise the 
 different sources of our language ; the point is vital. 
 Note also how, in the terse expression of policy 
 attributed to Shaftesbury, and its danger : — 
 
 But, for he knew his title not allow'd 
 Would keep him still depending on the crowd, 
 That kingly power, thus ebbing out, might be 
 Drawn to the dregs of a democracy. 
 
 absolutely no force is put upon the language to 
 v^ adapt it to the verse-form. 
 
 •* So far for the introduction to Achitophel's speech. 
 
 ^ The problem now before Dryden was, how to go up 
 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 65 
 
 from this level without rupture and to present the 
 temptation as beautiful. He solves his problem 
 thus : — 
 
 Auspicious prince, at whose nativity 
 
 Some royal planet rul'd the southern sky, 
 
 Thy longing country's darling and desire. 
 
 Their cloudy pillar and their guardian fire, 
 
 Their second Moses, whose extended wand 
 
 Divides the seas and shows the promis'd land, 
 
 Whose dawning day in every distant age 
 
 Has exercis'd the sacred prophet's rage, 
 
 The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme. 
 
 The young men's vision, and the old men's dream, 
 
 Thee Saviour, thee the nation's vows confess, 
 
 And never satisfied with seeing bless : 241 
 
 Swift unbespoken pomps thy steps proclaim, 
 
 And stammering babes are taught to lisp thy name. 
 
 How long wilt thou the general joy detain, 244 
 
 Starve and defraud the people of thy reign? 
 
 Content ingloriously to pass thy days, 
 
 Like one of virtue's fools that feeds on praise; 
 
 Till thy fresh glories, which now shine so bright, 248 
 
 Grow stale and tarnish with our daily sight. 
 
 Believe me, royal youth, thy fruit must be 
 
 Or gather' d ripe, or rot upon the tree. 
 
 Heaven has to all allotted, soon or late, 
 
 Some lucky revolution of their fate : 
 
 Whose motions if we watch and guide with skill, 
 
 (For human good depends on humaq^^will^ -"-^/tcje^t^*-^ 
 
 Our fortune rolls as from a smooth descent 
 
 And from the first impression takes the bent ; 
 
 But, if unseiz'd, she glides away like wind 
 
 And leaves repenting folly far behind. 
 
 Now, now she meets you with a glorious prize 
 
 And spreads her locks before her as she flies. 
 
 V. D. 5 
 
66 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 Had thus old David, from whose loins you spring, 
 
 Not dar'd, when fortune call'd him to be King, 
 
 At Gath an exile he might still remain, 264 
 
 And Heaven's anointing oil had been in vain. 
 
 Let his successful youth your hopes engage, 
 
 But shun the example of declining age. 
 
 Behold him setting in his western skies, 
 
 The shadows lengthening as the vapours rise; 
 
 !He is not now, as when, on Jordan's sand, 270 
 
 The joyful people throng'd to see him land, 
 Covering the beach and blackening all tHe^strand, 
 But like the Prince of Angels, from his height 
 Comes tumbling downward with diminish'd light : 
 Betray'd by one poor plot to public scorn, 
 (Our only blessing since his curst return,) 
 Those heaps of people, which one sheaf did bind. 
 Blown off and scatter'd by a puff of wind. 
 What strength can he to your designs oppose. 
 Naked of friends, and round beset with foes ? 
 If Pharaoh's doubtful succour he should use, 281 
 
 A foreign aid would more incense the Jews ; 
 Proud Egypt would dissembled friendship bring, 
 Foment the war, but not support the King ; 
 Nor would the royal party e'er unite 
 With Pharaoh's arms to assist the Jebusite ; 
 Or, if they should, their interest soon would break 
 And with such odious aid make David weak. 
 All sorts of men, by my successful arts 
 Abhorring kings, estrange their alter'd hearts 
 From David's rule: and 'tis the general cry, 291 
 
 Religion, commonwealth, and liberty. 
 If you, as champion of the public good. 
 Add to their arms a chief of royal blood, 294 
 
 What may not Israel hope, and what applause 
 Might such a general gain by such a cause ? 
 Not barren praise alone, that gaudy flower 
 Fair only to the sight, but solid power; 
 
Absalofn and Achitophel 67 
 
 And nobler is a limited command, 299 
 
 Given by the love of all your native land, 
 Than a successive title, long and dark, 
 Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's ark. 
 
 Endless observations might be made upon the 
 passage ; a few only can be here selected, thus : — 
 
 (i) A metrical analysis of the opening lines 
 (230-243), the Invocation to Absalom, shows a 
 persistence of verses divisible by their sense and 
 their swing into two parts. Of this form there are 
 two types represented respectively by the first and 
 second lines. In the first line the break comes after 
 the fourth syllable : — 
 
 Auspicious prince, ^ at whose nativity, 
 and in the second line after the fifth : — 
 
 Some royal planet ^ rul'd the southern sky. 
 
 The first eleven verses represent these two types in 
 the following order : i of the first, 4 of the second, 
 4 of the first, i of the second, i of the first ; and 
 the effect is to produce a certain spell on the ear. 
 Then there is a sudden dissolution of this tension 
 or spell in the next line (241), where the verse, 
 though divisible, is unbalanced ; for the division, 
 determined by the sense, occurs immediately before 
 the last syllable : — 
 
 And never satisfied with seeing ^ bless : 
 
 Then, in the next line, a new division, after the sixth 
 syllable, is introduced, the effect of which is to lay em- 
 phasis on the splendid phrase in the opening half : — 
 Swift unbespoken pomps ^ thy steps proclaim. 
 
 5—2 
 
68 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 The allusion here is to the popular demonstrations 
 which had accompanied Monmouth's progresses 
 through the country after his return from abroad in 
 1679. In *unbespoken' there is a touch of satire ; 
 in 'pomps' Dryden goes back to the history of 
 the Greek word nefjiTreLv, with its associations and 
 meaning, not of pageantry but of procession. The 
 splendour of the phrase ' unbespoken pomps ' is 
 relieved against the plainness of the word 'swift' 
 and the interruption of the general metrical scheme 
 by the unexpected rhythm of the preceding line. 
 
 (2) The first proposal of royalty comes in the 
 next lines (244 f.), where the necessary pause after 
 ' people,' to save the sense, brings a surprise to the 
 ear and so emphasises the suggested royalty : — 
 
 How long wilt thou the general joy detain, 
 Starve and defraud the people ^ of thy reign. 
 
 (3) \xi V, 248, we may note the suggestive em- 
 phasis due to the slight drag in the rhythm produced 
 by the five weighted monosyllables in its latter 
 half:— 
 
 Till thy fresh glories, which now shine so bright.... 
 
 (4) The reception of Charles at Dover in May 
 1660 is described in the triplet, 270 ff, a variation 
 of the couplet rarely used in this poem\ Some 
 effect is here certainly both felt and meant ; for 
 
 ^ In the 1 03 1 lines, the triplet occurs eight times. In the 
 456 lines of Religio Laid there are six triplets, and in the 
 572 lines of the First Part of The Hind and the Panther there 
 are thirty-four. 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 69 
 
 note also the unique rhythm in the last line due 
 to the two trisyllabic words * covering,' 'blackening/ 
 and compare with this the effect of the single tri- 
 syllabic 'lengthening' in v. 269: — 
 
 The shadows lengthening as the vapours rise. 
 
 What is the effect intended in the triplet ? Is not 
 the picture meant to be disagreeable ? — 
 
 Coverins: the beach and blackening all the strand. , , 
 
 What does it call up to us ? BeCfles ? Achitophel 
 undoubtedly means to sneer at royalist sentiment 
 and there is an involuntary recoil of feeling on 
 the crowd, the populace, as such. This leads on 
 consistently to his palpable sneer in the word 
 ' tumbling ' : — 
 
 Comes tumbling downward with diminish'd light, (274) 
 
 where the undignified words vaguely suggest the 
 collapse of a sort of cockchafer-glow-worm. Ou Q L 
 
 It is interesting to contrast this allusion by 
 Achitophel with Dryden's own description of the 
 same scene in his Astraea Redux \ — 
 
 Methinks I see those crowds on Dover's strand, 
 
 Who in their haste to welcome you to land 
 
 Chok'd up the beach with their still growing store 
 
 And made a wilder torrent on the shore : 
 
 While, spurr'd with eager thoughts of past delight, 
 
 Those who had seen you court a second sight, 
 
 Preventing still your steps and making haste 
 
 To meet you often wheresoe'er you past. (276 ff.) 
 
 (5) In line 291 we find the only instance in 
 this speech of overlapping from the couplet before. 
 
70 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 * From David's rule ' is a corrective parenthesis 
 qualifying the abhorrence of kings which, though 
 representing Achitophel's real feeling, is contrary to 
 his proposed intention of making Monmouth king. 
 The apparent candour of Achitophel's conclusion 
 that ' abhorring kings ' leads to the desire for a 
 'commonwealth,' is skilfully turned by the later 
 suggestion that ' nobler is a limited command ' than 
 a doubtful title. 
 
 The concluding lines of the speech refer to the 
 special circumstances of Monmouth, who had no 
 legal title but yet a sort of heirship. ' The mouldy 
 rolls of Noah's ark ' remind us of the prodigious 
 pedigrees of the seventeenth century, tracing pro- 
 genitors back to Adam, — in Wales even beyond ! — 
 and the heraldic sound of the earlier line (294) : — 
 
 Add to their arms a chief of royal blood, 
 Strengthens the implication of virtual legitimacy. 
 
 Some such detailed examination as this of Achi- 
 tophel's great speech helps us to understand its effect 
 on contemporary hearers. The vocabulary was one 
 of the points that attracted immediate notice. Thus 
 in the Recommendatory Verses prefixed to later 
 editions of the poem, Dryden is described as a 
 converted Milton : — 
 
 As if a Milton from the dead arose, 
 
 Fird off the rust, and the right party chose. 
 
 and complimented on his 'new speech,' that is, on 
 the novelty of his language : — 
 
 The dialect, as well as sense, invents. 
 And, with his poem, a new speech presents. 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 71 
 
 I leave the consideration of metrical effects in 
 the scene of the Temptation, and pass to other points 
 deserving comment. 
 
 In V. 281 Pharaoh stands for Louis XIV and 
 'the Jebusites' for the Catholics. These Biblical 
 characters have no real relation to the story of 
 David, and the introduction of them illustrates 
 Dryden's method throughout the poem. The in- 
 verse is also true : not all ' Charles ' is ' David,' any 
 more than all * David ' is * Charles.' Allusions to 
 actual history under a Biblical form need not and 
 must not be interpreted too strictly ; sometimes the 
 historical facts, at others the Biblical parallel is the 
 more prominent in Dryden's mind. Several exam- 
 ples of this may be found. For instance, 'Amnon's 
 murder ' (39) — an allusion which ' has never been 
 satisfactorily explained,' writes Prof. J. Churton 
 Collins in his note on the passage — need not have 
 any precise analogy in the known actions of Mon- 
 mouth. Again the couplet : — 
 
 And Corah might for Agag's murder call, 
 In terms as coarse as Samuel used to Saul. 
 
 (676 f.) 
 
 is referred by commentators, supported by the book- 
 seller's ' Key' (under the heading Agag) in the post- 
 humous edition of 1 716, to the death of Sir Edmund 
 Berry Godfrey, the jnagist rate who took the evi- 
 dence at the beginning of the Popish Plot, and was 
 shortly afterwards found dead under circumstances 
 suggestive of murder. No satisfactory explanation 
 of his death was offered, but the incident led to the 
 
72 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 accusation of the Catholics and gave impetus to the 
 plot. Mr Churton Collins and others interpret these 
 lines as meaning that Corah (Oates) instigated the 
 murder o{ Godfrey. But this interpretation does not 
 explain the words 'call for Agag's murder,' nor the 
 'coarse terms,' nor the allusion to Samuel and Saul 
 {/ Sam. xv). What I take Dryden to mean is that 
 Oates had the impudence to abuse and threaten the 
 King, when he showed an inclination to rescue some 
 of the victims of Oates's perjuries. The context in 
 Dryden's poem makes this clear : describing Corah 
 (Oates), he writes : — 
 
 His zeal to Heaven made him his Prince despise. 
 
 And load his person with indignities. 
 
 But zeal peculiar privilege affords. 
 
 Indulging latitude to deeds and words : 
 
 And Corah might for Agag's murder call, 
 
 In terms as coarse as Samuel used to Saul. 
 
 No precise Biblical analogy is to be found — or 
 sought ; Agag in fact was not ' murdered ' at all. 
 But Samuel as a prophet stands for a cleric (which 
 Oates was), here as throughout the poem, and he 
 overruled, in opprobrious terms, a king disposed to 
 clemency; this is enough for Dryden. 
 
 For govern'd by the moon, the giddy Jews 
 
 Tread the same track when she the prime renews : 
 
 And once in twenty years their scribes record, 
 
 By natural instinct they change their lord. (216 ff.) 
 
 Here the historical references are to the changes of 
 government which took place within the memory of 
 living men at intervals of about twenty years : the 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 73 
 
 Long Parliament met in 1640, Charles II was re- 
 stored in 1660, and the crisis of the Exclusion Bill 
 was in 1680. Dryden's jest is that everything 
 recurs, 'treads the same track,' as does even the 
 inconstant moon when 'she the prime renews.' This 
 last reference is not, I think, to the monthly change 
 of the moon, but to the recurrence of similarity in 
 the relative position of sun and moon which takes 
 place about every twenty years \ 
 
 A fiery soul, which working out its way, 
 
 Fretted the pigmy body to decay 
 
 And o'er-inform'd the tenement of clay. (156 ff.) 
 
 In this description of Achitophel Dryden is thinking 
 of the Aristotelian theory in which soul represents 
 form and body represents matter. The word 'o'er- 
 inform'd ' is used in the Aristotelian sense, and the 
 ' fiery soul ' recalls the theories of certain Greek 
 philosophers. The classical associations of the pas- 
 sage are reinforced by the word ' pigmy ' which is 
 
 ^ The phrase ' renew the prime ' occurs in the Third Part of 
 The Hind and the Panther (536) where, as here, it plainly means 
 ' recurs to the original starting point ' ; the statement in Christie's 
 Glossary that prime = spring (with a reference to The Hind and 
 the Panther in 536 only), does not apply to the passage in 
 Absalom a?id Achitophel, and is in any case somewhat misleading 
 as to the exact meaning of the phrase even in The Hind and 
 the Panther. 
 
 When the discrepancy between sun and moon is reconciled by 
 an adjustment of the Calendar, the moon may be said to recur to 
 her original standing point, to 'renew the prime'; the cycle of 
 the Jewish Calendar, at the end of which such a readjustment was 
 made, was a period of 19 years. 
 
74 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 Greek in origin. What Dryden intends to convey 
 is that in Shaftesbury there was too much ' form ' 
 for the ' matter.' 
 
 Some thought they God's anointed meant to slay 
 By guns, invented since full many a day: (130 f.) 
 
 These Hnes have been supposed to allude to Oates's 
 accusation against certain Catholics (Pickering and 
 Grove) of having pistols for the assassination of the 
 King. But this does not explain Dryden's language. 
 The couplet is a satiric extravagance : the accusers 
 were ready for any absurdity, even to the point of 
 accusing their victims of possessing weapons not 
 yet invented. The next two lines make the point 
 clear : — 
 
 Our author swears it not; but who can know 
 
 How far the Devil and Jebusites may go? (132 f.) 
 
 He to his brother gives supreme command, 
 
 To you a legacy of barren land, 
 
 Perhaps the old harp on which he thrums his lays 
 
 Or some dull Hebrew ballad in your praise. 
 
 (437 ff.) 
 The points here are clearly not Biblical; David 
 ^ had no brother answering to the Duke of York. 
 They are therefore presumably historical, but are 
 vaguely touched. 'Supreme command' is applicable 
 to James, Duke of York, who was governing Scot- 
 land, where he had been sent in 1679 to a sort of 
 honourable banishment, as High Commissioner. 
 ' Barren land ' is applicable to the Scottish estates 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 75 
 
 of the Duchess of Monmouth, Anne Scott, Countess 
 of Buccleugh, the ' charming Annabel ' of the poem 
 (34); for the 'barrenness' of Scotland is a persistent 
 English jest or sneer, as readers of Dr Johnson's 
 account of his travels there will remember. Are 
 then * the harp ' and the * ballad ' also pertinent ? 
 Not necessarily ; but they are probably sneers at 
 the position of a Scottish feudal prince, as a patron 
 of minstrels. The Buccleugh family were famous 
 for such patronage both then and later, as we are 
 reminded in Scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel, and 
 Anne Scott, Countess of Buccleugh, was herself 
 generous to all poets and Dryden's earliest and 
 •best patron. 
 
 The question further arises whether in this 
 passage (440) ' Hebrew * is to be interpreted as 
 ' Scottish.' It is not so taken in an earlier passage 
 
 (128):- 
 
 Which Hebrew priests the more unkindly took, 
 Because the fleece accompanies the flock, 
 
 where the ' Hebrew priests ' are apparently merely 
 the normal English (that is to say, the Protestant) 
 clergy as opposed to the Jebusites, who always 
 stand for the Catholics. Hebrew, in fact, is not 
 distinguished from Jewish, the opposition being 
 between Jews and Jebusites. But in our present 
 passage, the 'Hebrew ballad' (440), neither 'Eng- 
 lish' nor 'Protestant' gives sense or point. 
 
 Now, there is an odd fact to remark in the use 
 of the name * Hebron.' In the original poem, the 
 
76 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 First Part of Absalom and Achitophel, the name 
 occurs once : — 
 
 t Who banish'd David did from Hebron bring, 
 ,^4^ And with a general shout proclaim' d him King. (59 f.) 
 
 ^''^ Here 'Hebron' apparently stands for the Continent, 
 '^^^ perhaps in particular the Low Countries or Brussels, 
 ^^x. from which Charles was brought to England ; and 
 "-r this notwithstanding the later passage (264) where 
 ^^ . David is described as having been called to be king 
 ^ from Oath, Oath being taken very loosely from 
 / Sam. xxvii 2 ff., where David as an exile is said 
 to be residing in Gath. There is thus no consist- 
 ency in Dryden's use of the Bibfical names, but it 
 1" is clear that Hebron in Part i does not mean 
 Scotland. 
 
 Why then is Hebron assumed to be Scotland in 
 Part II of Absalom and Achitophel and in Tonson's 
 * Key ' — this last however a mere compilation with- 
 out Dryden's authority, reprinted by modern com- 
 mentators. In Part 11 (320), Judas, who stands for 
 the plotter Ferguson, is called a ' false Hebronite ' ; 
 in V. 328, the Scots are described as 'men of He- 
 bron ' ; and two lines lower Phaleg, who stands for 
 Forbes, is called 'the lay Hebronite.' So through 
 the whole passage Hebron clearly represents Scot- 
 land, and this passage, it should be noted, is in 
 the part of the poem which was mainly written by 
 Dryden himself In other parts also of Part 11, 
 Hebron stands for Scotland, in particular as the 
 place of the Duke of York's exile. Thus : — 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 77 
 
 From Hebron now the suffering heir return'd. (793) 
 
 As nobly has his sway in Hebron shown, 
 
 How fit to inherit godlike David's throne. (803 f.) 
 
 Still Hebron's honour'd happy soil retains 
 
 Our royal hero's beauteous dear remains. (1065 f.) 
 
 the meaning of these last two Hnes being that the 
 Duchess of York had been left in Scotland, whither 
 James was going back to fetch her ! 
 
 Now if * Hebrew' were read as meaning Scottish 
 in the passage under discussion in Part i (440), the 
 use of ' Hebron ' for Scotland in the Second Part 
 would be accounted for. And Hebrew may easily 
 be there so read, the 'supreme command' being a 
 command in Scotland, and the ' barren land ' being 
 estates in Scotland. Hence if some place-name for 
 Scotland were wanted answering to the adjective 
 ' Hebrew' for Scottish, the connexion of sound would 
 easily suggest * Hebron.' 
 
 Even in the earlier passage in Part i where 
 'Hebrew priests' are mentioned {128), the reference 
 may be chiefly to the Presbyterian rather than to 
 the Anglican clergy, for the ministers of the Estab- 
 lishment were not dependent on the 'fleece of the 
 flock.' 
 
 O ! had he been content to serve the crown 
 
 With virtues only proper to the gown,... 
 
 David for him his tuneful harp had strung 
 
 And Heaven had wanted one immortal song. (192 ff.) 
 
 The last two lines of this passage, which occurs in 
 the description of Achitophel, have given rise to 
 some extravagant interpretations. It has even been 
 
78 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 suggested that the 'immortal song' was Dryden's 
 own poem, which would not have been written had 
 Achitophel been 'content to serve the crown.' Clearly 
 the allusion here to Shaftesbury is very vague and 
 implies little more than that but for his intrigues on 
 the present occasion he would have retained the 
 King's approbation and an honourable place in 
 history. The Biblical allusion on the other hand is 
 plain. Dryden is referring to the Third Psalm : 
 Domine, quid multiplicati, ' Lord, how are they in- 
 creased that trouble me,' which is described in the 
 Authorised Version as * A Psalm of David when he 
 fled from Absalom his son,' and where in modern 
 annotated editions references are given to // Sam, 
 xv-xviii. Had Absalom not been induced by Achi- 
 tophel's counsels to rebel against David this Psalm 
 would not have been written, and the number of 
 those 'immortal songs' would have been less by one. 
 This is a case where the reference is inappropriate 
 to Charles and the contemporary events, and where 
 the Biblical parallel, the original David and Achi- 
 tophel, is paramount in Dryden's thoughts. 
 
 But indeed, apart from Biblical parallels in the 
 poem, personal allusions should not be too much 
 sought. Take for instance the passage where Dryden, 
 speaking of Achitophel, writes : — 
 
 And all to leave what with his toil he won 
 To that unfeather'd two-legg'd thing, a son. 
 Got, while his soul did huddled notions try. 
 And born a shapeless lump, Hke anarchy. (169 ff.) 
 
 The third Earl of Shaftesbury, Achitophel's 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 79 
 
 grandson, is said to have resented this description 
 of his father. If so he did not show much wit. The 
 second Earl was not deformed but on the contrary 
 a handsome man. This fact, however, is irrelevant. 
 All ' sons ' are ' unfeathered two-legged things ' and 
 ' born shapeless.' Dryden's point is that wealth and 
 rank must pass to a thing so uncertain in quality as 
 a baby ; the particular qualities of Lord Ashley are 
 irrelevant. 
 
 The epic dignity of the poem is highest in the 
 scene of the Temptation, in Absalom's appeal to 
 the people (698 ff.) and in the Conclusion (939 ff.). 
 The Conclusion is selected for special praise in one 
 of the four Recommendatory Verses prefixed under 
 Dryden's sanction to the later editions : — 
 
 Scarce a diviner flame inspir'd the king, 
 Of whom thy muse does so sublimely sing, 
 Not David's self could in a nobler verse 
 His gloriously offending son rehearse, 
 Though in his breast the prophet's fury met 
 The father's fondness, and the poet's wit. 
 
 Two passages only in the Conclusion can be referred 
 to here ; first the magnificent lines of the King's 
 pronouncement : — 
 
 Unsatiate as the barren womb or grave, 
 God cannot grant so much as they can crave. 
 What then is left but with a jealous eye 
 To guard the small remains of royalty ? 
 The law shall still direct my peaceful sway, 
 And the same law teach rebels to obey: 
 Votes shall no more establish'd power control, 
 Such votes as make a part exceed the whole. 
 
8o Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 No groundless clamours shall my friends remove 
 Nor crowds have power to punish ere they prove; 
 For gods and godlike kings their care express 
 Still to defend their servants in distress. (987 ff.) 
 
 Note here the distinction given by the careful intro- 
 duction of Latin associations in the first line and 
 again in the concluding couplet ; the Latin word 
 * unsatiate ' replaces the ' never satisfied ' of Prov. 
 XXX 15 f., from which the comparison is taken, and 
 the uncolloquial but classical use of the word 'ex- 
 press ' is a Latinism. 
 
 Later in the speech the King suggests that the 
 false witnesses will turn against the Whigs ; the 
 admission is perhaps dangerous but the figure is 
 magnificent : — 
 
 By their own arts, 'tis righteously decreed. 
 Those dire artificers of death shall bleed. 
 Against themselves their witnesses will swear 
 Till, viper-like, their mother-plot they tear. 
 And suck for nutriment that bloody gore 
 Which was their principle of life before. 
 Their Belial with their Beelzebub will fight ; 
 Thus on my foes my foes shall do me right. 
 
 (lOIO ff.) 
 
 In Belial and Beelzebub we may see an allusion — 
 though but a vague and undefined allusion — to the 
 divisions among the fiends of the Second Book of 
 Paradise Lost, where Belial * counselled ignoble 
 ease' (227) and Beelzebub advocated a *bold design' 
 (386) ; similar touches — no more than touches — 
 sustain the satiric parts of the poem. 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 8i 
 
 But Dryden's art is not confined to elevation ; 
 he is equally skilful in sinking his style when the 
 subject demands it. One of the methods used is 
 the introduction of double rhymes, very rare in this 
 poem. Double rhymes were associated with Butler's 
 Hudibras and with ' low satire.' What Dryden's 
 opinion on the subject was, we learn from his Dis- 
 course Concerning the Original and Progress of 
 Satire, where he writes : — 
 
 And besides, the double rhyme (a necessary companion 
 of burlesque writing), is not so proper for manly satire ; for 
 it turns earnest too much to jest, and gives us a boyish kind 
 of pleasure. It tickles awkwardly with a kind of pain, to the 
 best sort of readers : we are pleased ungratefully, and, if I 
 may say so, against our liking. 
 
 In Absalom and Achitophel the double rhyme is 
 used with effect in his satire on the fanatics of the 
 Commonwealth, the Levites, who stand for some 
 sort of clergy, and again in his description of Zimri 
 (Buckingham) : — 
 
 Hot Levites headed these; who pull'd before 
 
 From the ark, which in the Judges' days they bore, 
 
 Resum'd their cant, and with a zealous cry 
 
 Pursu'd their old beloved theocracy. 
 
 Where Sanhedrin and priest enslav'd the nation 
 
 And justifi'd their spoils by inspiration \ 
 
 For who so fit for reign as Aaron's race, 
 
 If once dominion they could found in grace? (519 ff.) 
 
 He says of Zimri : — 
 
 Then all for women, painting, rhyming, dritiking^ 
 Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinki?ig. 
 
 (551 f-) 
 
 v. D. 6 
 
82 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 and again : — 
 
 So over violent or over civil 
 
 That every man with him was God or Devil. (557 f.) 
 
 These are the only instances of double rhyme in 
 the poem. 
 
 The admirable satire of the Opposition in general 
 (491-540) is followed by the satiric portraits of 
 individuals (541-681) of which the most important 
 are Buckingham as Zimri, Slingsby Bethel as Shimei 
 — types of the discontented noble and the city-man — 
 and Oates as Corah, a supplement not to be left 
 out ; for though 
 
 To speak the rest, who better are forgot, 
 
 Would tire a well-breath'd witness of the plot. 
 
 Yet, Corah, thou shalt from oblivion pass ; 
 
 Erect thyself, thou monumental brass, 
 
 High as the serpent of thy metal made, 
 
 While nations stand secure beneath thy shade. (630 ff.) 
 
 The danger of this style is that the personal detail 
 may be tiresome and obscure even at the moment 
 of writing, and still more so for later generations. 
 Dryden has not wholly avoided this danger. The 
 couplet, for instance, about * canting Nadab ' : — 
 
 And canting Nadab let oblivion damn 
 
 Who made new porridge for the paschal lamb. 
 
 is open to this objection, as well as to others, that 
 the allusion is unintelligible without a lengthy note. 
 Satire is apt to consist of such things as this, and it 
 dies of them unless rescued by other merits. 
 
 " The tone of Dryden's satiric piece is not indig- 
 nation but contempt, and this feeling is consistent 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 83 
 
 with the whole poem, which is a celebration of the 
 King's triumph; Dryden, in fact, 'rebates the satire' 
 for the sake of 'sweetness.' He is at his best in the 
 general part, rather than in the portraits of indi- 
 viduals. Read, for instance, his description, already 
 quoted, of the 'hot Levites,' or Presbyterians (519 ff.), 
 of the 'enthusiastic breed' (529 fif.), representing the 
 Baptists and other Nonconformists ; and especially 
 of the general mass of the English, obstinate in 
 Protestant prejudice because it is English : — 
 
 But far more numerous was the herd of such 
 
 Who think too little and who talk too much. 
 
 These out of mere instinct, they knew not why, 
 
 Ador'd their fathers' God and property. 
 
 And by the same blind benefit of Fate 
 
 The Devil and the Jebusite did hate : 
 
 Born to be sav'd even in their own despite. 
 
 Because they could not help believing right. (533 ff.) 
 
 Note the sneer at the complacent acquiescence in 
 their local religion, 'their fathers' God.' Dryden 
 was indeed no true Anglican. This real feeling of 
 his comes out again in an earlier passage in the 
 poem where the distinctive historical claim of the 
 Jebusites, representing the Catholics, is emphasised 
 by the pause, due to the shortened line, unique in 
 this poem : — 
 
 The inhabitants of old Jerusalem 
 Were Jebusites; the town so call'd from them, 
 And theirs the native right. 
 
 But when the chosen people grew more strong, .. .^.4yLiiti5^ 
 
 (85 ff.) 
 and there are many other marks of his feeling. 
 
 6—2 
 
84 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 His conversion to Roman Catholicism can have 
 come as no surprise to students of his works. To 
 discuss Dryden's rehgious opinions however would 
 take us too far from our present subject, and belongs 
 more especially to the consideration of his two 
 religious poems, Religio Laid and The Hind and 
 the Panther^. But students interested in the ques- 
 tion should read the chapter on Dryden's life from 
 1680 to 1688 in Mr Saintsbury's Dryden, published 
 in 1 88 1 in the series of English Men of Letters. 
 
 In the case of individual portraits Dryden felt 
 the danger of over-elaboration and consequent ob- 
 scurity, and was disposed to pass them over briefly. 
 One exception is made in the case of the Sheriff of 
 the City of London, Bethel (Shimei), who seems to 
 have been not popular even with his own party, 
 fanatic though he was ; for he was stingy, * not 
 prodigal of pelf,' and showed no hospitality, in 
 spite of the traditions of his office : — 
 
 And that his noble style he might refine, 
 
 No Rechabite more shunn'd the fumes of wine. 
 
 Chaste were his cellars, and his shrieval board 
 
 The grossness of a city feast abhorr'd : 
 
 His cooks with long disuse their trade forgot ; 
 
 Cool was his kitchen, though his brains were hot. 
 
 (616 ff.) 
 
 The description is too long but has amusing points : 
 the representation of moneyed men as ' dissenting 
 Jews,' for instance, is unfair but smart, and the 
 reference to the fire of London : — 
 
 ^ See below, p. 147. 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 85 
 
 For towns once burnt such magistrates require 
 As dare not tempt God's providence by fire. 
 
 is interesting, as discrediting the contemporary ac- 
 cusation against the Catholics of voluntary incen- 
 diarism. 
 
 Another exception to the brevity of these satiric 
 portraits is made in the case of Oates (632-681). 
 Oates is a figure difficult to omit, but he will not 
 come within Dryden's general tone : Oates is no 
 object for levity. Moreover it was known that the 
 King meant to use the false witnesses against the 
 Exclusionist party, a policy definitely announced in 
 the passage from David's speech above quoted. 
 Dryden however makes the most of the comic 
 points in his description of Oates, his long and 
 solemn face, his spurious D.D. degree ; nor does he 
 forget that he was a clergyman, and so one of a 
 class of persons generally mischievous, according to 
 Dryden. The best point in the account is the gay 
 defiance of the personal touch — the single appear- 
 ance in the poem of the author in his own person : — 
 
 Were I myself in witness Corah's place, 
 
 The wretch who did me such a dire disgrace 
 
 Should whet my memory, though once forgot, 
 
 To make him an appendix of my plot. (668 ff.) 
 
 There is an odd touch in the phrase describing the 
 Levites, or clergy : — 
 
 His tribe were God Almighty's gentlemen. 
 
 Here comes out the traditional dislike of the squire 
 for the parson and his pretensions to an equality 
 
86 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 with the country gentry ; here speaks the nephew 
 of baronets — here, and often. 
 ^ Then we pass (682-750) to Absalom's appeal 
 to the people, the organisation of his progresses 
 through the country, and the consolidation of the 
 party. The summary is very skilful. It is followed 
 (753-810) by a general argument for not disturbing 
 the traditional basis of government : there is no 
 security in speculation, as has been proved by recent 
 experience. This is the gravest part of the poem. 
 A prevalent theory of the time is here set out — 
 that the State is founded on an ' original contract ' 
 between the King and the people, who have sur- 
 rendered their natural liberty in return for protection 
 from him. An illustration of this theory was afforded 
 less than eight years afterwards by the vote declaring 
 the throne vacant at the Revolution. Early in 1689, 
 the Convention Parliament resolved that James 
 * having endeavoured to subvert the constitution by 
 breaking the original contract between King and 
 people... had violated the fundamental laws... and 
 that the throne was vacant.' 
 
 Dryden assumes this position and shows its un- 
 certain results : admit that 'people' (759) ought not 
 to bind their posterity absolutely, yet, in a con- 
 tract, such a power of resumption should have been 
 declared. Was it ? And if Adam could bind his 
 posterity by his sin, why could not 'the people' bind 
 theirs by their engagement.'^ (It is an odd argu- 
 ment, but in the style of the time.) And, if a 
 necessity for resumption of the contract may exist. 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 87 
 
 who is to judge ? The multitude ? Or Parliament, 
 itself only a multitude after all ? — 
 
 What standard is there in a fickle rout, 
 
 Which, flowing to the mark, runs faster out? 
 
 Nor only crowds but Sanhedrins may be 
 
 Infected with this public lunacy. 
 
 And share the madness of rebellious times. 
 
 To murder monarchs for imagin'd crimes. ' (785 ff.) 
 
 To diverge for the moment from the general 
 consideration of the argument, and deal with a par- 
 ticular point, I cannot accept Mr Churton Collins's 
 suggested explanation of the first couplet in the 
 above lines, which he calls ' very obscure.' He 
 thinks that 'the metaphor is from water which in 
 flowing to a mark, and so acquiring impetus, is by 
 its very impetus carried on and past — into waste.' 
 But how does water acquire impetus in flowing to 
 a mark, and what are we to understand by the 
 mark ? The lines are perhaps obscure — a rare fault 
 in Dryden — but the metaphor is unmistakable : the 
 * mark ' is the extreme high-water mark of a spring 
 tide, and Dryden observes, quite accurately, that the 
 higher the tide and consequently the greater the 
 distance between high and low water-mark (the in- 
 terval of time between tides remaining the same), 
 the more rapid is the fall of the water at the ebb. 
 The words 'flowing,' 'mark,' and *runs out' would 
 seem sufficient to indicate the metaphor, and all 
 doubt is removed by the allusion in the next lines to 
 another effect of the moon, mistress, in the opinion 
 of the time, alike of madness and of the tides. 
 
88 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 / 
 ^ To go back to Dryden's argument : whatever 
 the theory of the relations between Crown and 
 People, tradition is the only safety. As students of 
 literature we need not criticise this view, but we 
 should note the admirable summary in the con- 
 cluding couplet : — 
 
 The tampering world is subject to this curse, 
 To physic their disease into a worse. 
 
 We next pass to an account of the loyalists, 
 headed by Barzillai, who stands for Dryden's patron 
 the Marquis, and soon afterwards Duke, of Ormond, 
 and Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. In the reference 
 to the recent death of his son, the Earl of Ossory, 
 ' Heaven ' is better managed by Dry den than 
 usual : — 
 
 Now, free from earth, thy disencumbered soul 
 
 Mounts up, and leaves behind the clouds and starry pole : 
 
 From thence thy kindred legions mayest thou bring 
 
 To aid the guardian angel of thy King. 
 
 Here stop, my Muse, here cease thy painful flight; 
 
 No pinions can pursue immortal height: 
 
 Tell good Barzillai thou canst sing no more, 
 
 And tell thy soul she should have fled before : 
 
 Or fled she with his life, and left this verse 
 
 To hang on her departed patron's hearse? (850 ff*.) 
 
 Then come the clergy, Bancroft, Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, Compton, Bishop of London, whose 
 * noble stem ' is not forgotten, and Dolben, whose 
 former position as Dean of Westminster gives 
 Dryden the opportunity for a compliment to his old 
 school : — 
 
Absalom and Achitophel 89 
 
 The Prophets' sons, by such example led, 
 To learning and to loyalty were bred : 
 For colleges on bounteous kings depend, 
 And never rebel was to arts a friend. 
 
 Then follow Mulgrave (Adriel), 'the Muses' 
 friend, himself a Muse,' Halifax (Jotham), who was 
 not * King's man ' enough for Dryden, but the effect 
 of his speech in the House of Lords against the 
 Exclusion Bill is acknowledged : he 
 
 then chose the better side, 
 Nor chose alone, but turn'd the balance too. 
 So much the weight of one brave man can do. 
 
 Laurence Hyde (Hushai) whose skill in finance is 
 noted : — 
 
 Tis easy conduct when exchequers flow, 
 But hard the task to manage well the low. 
 
 and finally Sir Edward Seymour (Amiel). All were 
 patrons of Dryden except this last named, formerly 
 Speaker of the House of Commons — a position 
 which according to Dryden he filled well — and 
 afterwards very important as gaining the vote of 
 the Moderates among the Tories in opposition to 
 James H. Dryden apparently thought that Seymour 
 had been undervalued, and does not forget that 
 Seymour was the chief of the 'Squires,' 'of ancient 
 race by birth... and without title great' A Parlia- 
 ment of loyal Squires was probably Dryden's ideal. -^ 
 There is no allusion in the poem to Danby, who 
 was nearer to Dryden as a politician than anyone. 
 But at the time when the poem was published 
 Danby was in prison and apparently ruined. 
 
90 Absalom and Achitophel 
 
 In a passage which deserves particular attention 
 but is too long to quote (917-932) the Loyalists 
 implore the King to stand firm. Note the syntax 
 and construction which, at the end of their repre- 
 sentations — enumerated, against normal English 
 usage, in a series of anacoluthic sentences — produce 
 on the reader the effect not of a conclusion, but 
 only of a breathless pause ; whereupon the King 
 follows, as an oracle : — 
 
 With all these loads of injuries opprest, 
 
 And long revolving in his careful breast 
 
 The event of things, at last his patience tir'd, 935 
 
 Thus from his royal throne, by Heaven inspir'd, 
 
 The godlike David spoke; with awful fear 
 
 His train their Maker in their master hear. 
 
 Note also the overlapping in v, 935, with the re- 
 sultant pause after the words ' the event of things,' 
 and the break thus made before the final resolve to 
 speak ' at last.' The sentiment expressed in the 
 conclusion of this passage is not profanity or super- 
 stition. Dryden's point in speaking of 'their master' 
 as * their Maker ' is that the people had not made 
 royalty and the whole complex of which royalty was 
 part, but, on the contrary, royalty had made them ; 
 they might as well say that they had made God. 
 The feeling is strongly contrasted with that of the 
 'Adam-wits,' in an earlier passage: — 
 
 Those very Jews who at their very best 
 Their humour more than loyalty exprest, 
 Now wondered why so long they had obey'd 
 An idol monarch which their hands had made ; 
 
Absalom and Achitophel gi 
 
 Thought they might ruin him they could create 
 
 Or melt him to that golden calf, a State. (6i ff.) 
 
 — a State, in Dryden's language, meaning an arbi- 
 trary Commonwealth. 
 
 The King's speech — two passages of which I 
 have already quoted — concludes with a peal of 
 thunder, the stock epic ornament signifying divine 
 approval and the nod of Heaven : — 
 
 He said. The Almighty, nodding, gave consent; 
 
 And peals of thunder shook the firmament. 
 
 Henceforth a series of new time began, 
 
 The mighty years in long procession ran ; 
 
 Once more the god-like David was restor'd. 
 
 And willing nations knew their lawful lord. (1026 ff.) 
 
 'Nodding' translates the Latin nuere^ and the 'series 
 of new time ' and the * mighty years ' point to the 
 King as the channel of divine counsel and decision 
 by recalling the language of Virgil's Sibylline 
 Eclogue : — 
 
 Magnus ab integro saeclorum nascitur ordo. 
 
IV 
 
 THEIQUATRAIN POEMS 
 Stanzas on Oliver Cromwell, and Annus Mirabilis 
 
 Two poems of Dryden's are written in quatrains 
 — stanzas that is, of four lines, with alternate rhymes 
 — namely the Heroic Stanzas Consecrated to the 
 Memory of His Highness Oliver, late Lord Pro- 
 tector of this Commonwealth, etc., and Annus Mira- 
 bilis ; the Year of Wonders, 1666. 
 
 (Yn the Preface to Annus Mirabilis he tells us 
 that he adopted the quatrain in that poem as being 
 ' more noble and of greater dignity both for the 
 sound and number than any other verse in use 
 amongst us.' His praise is vague and opportunist, 
 the quatrain having been used in Gondibert (published 
 in 1 651) by Davenant, with whom Dryden was at 
 this time on intimate terms. The quatrain with its 
 characteristic strong and frequent pauses and its slow 
 and regular swing, is plainly unsuitable to narrative. 
 It lends itself to reflexions, especially to detached 
 reflexions, and is admirably adapted to its subject 
 in the best and best known quatrain poem in Eng- 
 lish, Gray's Elegy written in a Country Churchyard, 
 For Dryden's Stanzas in Memory of Oliver, * written 
 
The Quatrain Poems 93 
 
 after the celebrating of his funeral ' and published in 
 1658, the metre is suitable enough]; a good speci- 
 men is the final stanza : — 
 
 His ashes in a peaceful urn shall rest; 
 
 His name a great example stands to show 
 How strangely high endeavours may be blest 
 
 Where piety and valour jointly go. 
 
 There is merit also in other stanzas ; take for 
 instance the first : — 
 
 And now 'tis time; for their officious haste 
 Who would before have borne him to the sky, 
 
 Like eager Romans, ere all rites were past. 
 Did let too soon the sacred eagle fly. 
 
 where the allusion, elsewhere^ again introduced by 
 Dryden, is to the Roman custom of letting fly an 
 eagle upon the close of the funeral ceremonies of a 
 Roman Emperor. Or take stanza 7 : — 
 
 No borrow'd bays his temples did adorn. 
 But to our crown he did fresh jewels bring; 
 
 Nor was his virtue poison'd, soon as born. 
 With the too early thoughts of being king. 
 
 These stanzas are mainly good, and so are parts of 
 stanzas 22-30; there is generosity and truth every- 
 where, yet the poem is not good as a whole. There 
 is too much ' cockle ' with the * noble seed,' and 
 Dryden himself reminds us that the poetry written 
 before the Restoration did not provide the 'well- 
 winnow'd grain' commended in the Threnodia 
 Augustalis"^. 
 
 ^ Tyrannic Love iv 2. 
 ^ See above, p. 6. 
 
94 The Quatrain Poems 
 
 There are faults of grammar : — 
 
 When absent, yet we conquer'd in his right : (24) 
 
 and of obscurity : — 
 
 When such heroic virtue Heaven sets out, 
 The stars, Uke Commons, sullenly obey. 
 
 Because it drains them, when it comes about, 
 
 And therefore is a tax they seldom pay. (27) 
 
 And here, in addition to the obscurity, the first 
 image, the soul from a starry Heaven, is degraded 
 by the later comparison with Parliamentary supplies. 
 This kind of fault, common in Dryden's predeces- 
 sors, was very slowly eliminated from English poetry. 
 The poem supplies instances of artificial derange- 
 ment of words : — 
 
 And for him fiercely as for empire strove. (22) 
 
 and of artificial choice of words : — 
 
 And bravely fought where southern stars arise, (31) 
 
 and 
 
 The highest acts it could produce to show. (32) 
 
 besides many others. Points also are made without 
 regard to their weight or real connexion, conceits 
 being introduced merely for their own sakes, as in 
 stanza 30, where the first good image : — 
 
 That old unquestion'd pirate of the land 
 Proud Rome 
 
 is followed by a dubious point in the third line, and 
 a bad one in the last, thus : — 
 
 And trembling wish'd behind more Alps to stand, 
 Although an Alexander were her guard. 
 
 the contemporary Pope being Alexander VII ! s 
 
The Quatrain Poems 95 
 
 The poem, however, is strong in expression and 
 rich in fancy, and therein characteristic of Dryden. 
 The special selection of Oliver's knowledge of men 
 as a point for commendation is appropriate and 
 finely expressed : — 
 
 For from all tempers he could service draw ; 
 
 The worth of each with its alloy he knew ; 
 And, as the confident of Nature, saw 
 
 How she complexions did divide and brew : 
 
 Or he their single virtues did survey 
 
 By intuition in his own large breast. 
 Where all the rich ideas of them lay 
 
 That were the rule and measure to the rest. (25, 26) 
 
 At a later time it suited Dryden's opponents to 
 suppose an allusion to the execution of Charles I in 
 the lines describing how Oliver 
 
 fought to end our fighting, and assay'd 
 To stanch the blood by breathing of the vein. (12) 
 
 The suggestion is of course absurd, but, on the other 
 hand, nowhere in the poem is there any enthusiasm 
 for Oliver ; the tone is one of sober admiration. 
 Dryden remarks, at the opening, that the subject 
 of his poem already holds so lofty a position that it 
 cannot be raised by any ' arts ' : — if only he had so 
 reflected more often, and allowed his reflexions to 
 determine his practice ! 
 
 Does the poem prove that Dryden after the 
 Restoration threw away all his principles ? I think 
 not. There is in it no praise of military govern- 
 ment, nor any desire for its permanence. 
 
96 The Quatrain Poems 
 
 Annus Mirabilis 
 
 Before the issue of the next quatrain poem, in 
 1667, Dryden had become a figure of some im- 
 portance ; he had produced four or five dramas and 
 written some court-poetry. The poem of Annus 
 Mirabilis describes the eVents of that wonderful 
 year 1666, when the plague and fire of London 
 followed upon the naval war with the Dutch. It is 
 preceded by an address to the City and a letter to 
 Sir Robert Howard. 
 
 The address to the City is a fine piece of prose, 
 and very characteristic of Dryden. Addressing the 
 City of London he writes : — 
 
 You are now a phoenix in her ashes, and, as far as 
 humanity can approach, a great emblem of the suffering 
 Deity. But Heaven never made so much piety and virtue to 
 leave it miserable. I have heard indeed of some virtuous 
 persons who have ended unfortunately, but never of any 
 virtuous nation. Providence is engaged too deeply, when 
 the cause becomes so general ; and I cannot imagine it has 
 resolved the ruin of that people at home, which it has blessed 
 abroad with such successes. 
 
 Note the Pagan feeling. There is no sense of 
 \ ; mystery, and the Christian allusions are mere orna- 
 ments ; a comparison is made in the same breath of 
 the City with the phoenix and with Christ. Man, 
 he thinks, has a case against 'the gods ' : 'Providence 
 is engaged.' Dryden cannot see things big ; what 
 he gives us is a poetic blend of conventional philo- 
 sophy and religion. 
 
The Quatrain Poems 97 
 
 In the Letter to Sir Robert Howard there is a 
 deliberate challenge of criticism. This letter is 
 throughout characteristic of Dryden. Not only does 
 he, as we have seen, justify his choice of metre, but 
 he has chosen ' the most heroic subject which any 
 poet could desire,' — 'incomparably the best subject,' 
 he has ever had, * excepting only the royal family.' 
 The subject is indeed epic in dignity but the action 
 is, as he admits, not ' properly one,' nor complete as 
 a story. Dryden's whole ambition is disclosed in 
 this Letter : to be high, like Virgil — who ' has been 
 my master in this poem ' — and yet real. 
 
 As regards his treatment of the metre, he tells us 
 that he has discarded ancient licences : — 
 
 Neither can we give ourselves the liberty of making any 
 part of a verse for the sake of rhyme, or concluding with a 
 word which is not current English, or using the variety of 
 female rhymes; all which our fathers practised. 
 
 Dryden claims to have taken some trouble to 
 introduce the_* proper terms ' in his description of the 
 ^ naval fight. But are his terms altogether proper ? 
 Is, for instance, ' caulking-iron ' correct.'* His T:riti- 
 cism, a little later, of Ovid and Virgil has no sub- 
 stance, and though Virgil may have been his 'master' 
 in this poem, Dryden is not at all like Virgil, and 
 the resemblances quoted by him are insignificant : 
 'and lighted all the river with a blaze' (st. 231), for 
 example, has but a slight resemblance to Sigea igni 
 freta lata relucent (Virgil A en. 11 3 1 2). The language 
 of the poem is current English, with a few innova- 
 tions. To this point Dryden calls attention. But 
 
 v. D. 7 
 
98 The Quatrain Poems 
 
 these innovations, introductions from Latin, were 
 not efficient or numerous ; instances are : — 
 
 With loathing eyes repeat what they would shun. (257) 
 
 where * repeat ' represents the Latin repetere, ' to 
 seek again,' and 
 
 By which to Heaven they did affect the way, (273) 
 
 where ' affect ' is used, as again in Absalom and 
 Ackitophel {ly^), in the sense of seeking or desiring; 
 here it is probably an imitation of viamque adfectat 
 Olympo (Virgil Georgic iv 562). We also have 
 Latinisms in 'require' (st. 256) and * obnoxious ' 
 (st. 258). His imitations of Latin models are not 
 among his happiest passages : the bad lines 
 
 And weary waves, withdrawing from the fight, 
 
 Lie lulled and panting on the silent shore. (98) 
 
 are, he tells us, reminiscent of Statius (Silv. v 4, 5) : — 
 
 Nee trucibus fluviis idem sonus; occidit horror 
 aequoris, et terris maria adclinata quiescunt. 
 
 and his recent reading of the Third Book of Lucan's 
 Pkarsalia, where the successive ships are said to 
 drive the sea's surface forward and back with their 
 oars (ill 550 ff.), has obviously suggested the hyper- 
 bolic language of stanza 177 : — 
 
 So vast the navy now at anchor rides 
 That underneath it the press'd waters fail, 
 
 And with its weight it shoulders off the tides. 
 
 \ The success of the poem where Dryden treats 
 
 ; of reality, of the actual, is yet uncommon. Take for 
 
 instance the four stanzas (99-102) which describe 
 
The Quatrain Poems 99 
 
 the night before the third engagement of Albemarle's 
 fleet with the Dutch. Albemarle's danger was great ; 
 he was separated from Prince Rupert's detachment 
 and had passed through two days of severe fighting 
 against a force outnumbering his own. It is the night 
 of June 2, the next day, June 3, being the anniversary 
 of two earlier naval victories over the Dutch : — 
 
 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 
 Who twice victorious did our navy see. 
 
 And I alone must view him rise in vain, 
 Without one ray of all his star for me. 
 
 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 remnants 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. 
 
 Dryden's vocabulary here is still that of current 
 English, with the single exception, that since the 
 complete separation of the services, the title 'General' 
 is no longer satisfactory to our ears. But the sepa- 
 ration had not been made in Dryden's time, and 
 Monck, Duke of Albemarle, was indeed an English 
 * General ' familiar enough to those who remembered 
 that he had on a famous occasion ordered a change in 
 the course of his ship by calling out, 'wheel to the left.' 
 
 7—2 
 
lOO The Quatrain Poems 
 
 With this successful description of a real situation 
 should be contrasted Dryden's attempt at supernatu- 
 ral decoration in an earlier stanza : — 
 
 To see this fleet upon the ocean move 
 
 Angels drew wide the curtains of the skies; 
 
 And Heaven, as if there wanted Hghts above, 
 
 For tapers made two glaring comets rise. (i6) 
 
 Dryden's 'Heaven' is the old dome, the concave 
 covering of a circular flat earth. His conception is 
 affected by the example of Lucan, recently in his 
 thoughts, as is shown by his reference to ' the third 
 of his Pharsalia in his Letter to Sir Robert Howard, 
 In the Fourth Book of the Pharsalia (72 ff.) Lucan 
 describes how the bad weather in Spain was caused 
 by compression of the atmosphere, the westward 
 driven air being unable to escape. The conception 
 of the sky as an inverted bowl resting upon the 
 earth was not dead in antiquity, but was quite dead 
 to Dryden, as is shown elsewhere and especially in the 
 speculations, which follow in the very next stanzas, 
 as to the nature of the ' two glaring comets ' : — 
 
 Whether they unctuous exhalations are 
 Fir'd by the sun, or seeming so alone. 
 
 Or each some more remote and slippery star 
 Which loses footing when to mortals shown; 
 
 Or one that bright companion of the sun, 
 
 Whose glorious aspect seal'd our new-born King, 
 
 And now, a round of greater years begun, 
 
 New influence from his walks of light did bring. 
 
 These speculations show some scientific knowledge 
 of comets, extending beyond that of his ancient 
 
UNlVEfts/Tv 1 
 
 OF ' ;! 
 
 The QuatrdsPir^Roefns^ loi 
 
 models, but yet Dryden could not accept the true 
 astronomy. This confusion of astronomical concep- 
 tions comes out strongly in the stanza immediately 
 preceding his address to the Royal Society, of which 
 he had been elected a member some five years 
 earlier : — 
 
 Then we upon our globe's last verge shall go 
 And view the ocean leaning on the sky : 
 
 From thence our rolling neighbours we shall know 
 And on the lunar world securely pry\ (^64) 
 
 The examination of Dry den's ' Heaven ' well repays 
 a student of his works : it plays an important part, 
 and is always mischievous. 
 
 Between the Natural and the Supernatural is the 
 middle way of supernatural machinery. Here he 
 has better success. With good effect, in spite of the 
 flatness of the last line, the ghosts of men are intro- 
 duced as interested spectators of the naval fight : — 
 
 The mighty ghosts of our great Harrys rose, 
 And armed Edwards looked with anxious eyes. 
 
 To see this fleet among unequal foes, 
 
 By which Fate promis'd them their Charles should rise, 
 
 (81) 
 
 and again during the fire of London : — 
 
 The ghosts of traitors from the Bridge descend, 
 
 With bold fanatic spectres to rejoice; 
 About the fire into a dance they bend 
 
 And sing their sabbath notes with feeble voice. (223) 
 
 ^ For further comment on this stanza, as well as general 
 criticism of Dryden's work, the reader is referred to Lowell's 
 Essay on Dryden, contained in the volume called My Study 
 Windows. 
 
I02 The Quatrain Poems 
 
 But this method is not applicable on a large scale. 
 Drydens general tone is so positive and definite 
 that the reader is tempted to ask, How did the 
 ghosts come there ? The spirits of Henri IV of 
 France and William the Silent are, he lets us know, 
 among ' the blessed,' the abode of ' the blessed ' 
 being a vague combination of the Christian Heaven 
 and the ancient Elysium. 
 
 Dryden never succeeded in this way, he used no 
 free invention. What he writes in the Preface to 
 Tyrannic Love is generally true of his work in this 
 kind : — 
 
 As for what I have said of astral or aerial spirits, it is 
 no invention of mine, biit taken from those who have written 
 on that subject. Whether there are such beings or not, it 
 concerns not me; it is sufficient for my purpose, that many 
 have believed the affirmative; and that these heroic repre- 
 sentations, which are of the same nature with the epic, are 
 not limited, but with the extremest bounds of what is credible. 
 
 In view of such an attitude success was hardly to be 
 anticipated. 
 
 With this comparative failure we may contrast 
 his success in natural imagination, and his admirable 
 application of it to simile and metaphor. His faculty 
 of imagination was strong, apt even to overleap its 
 proper bounds. Of this Dryden was himself con- 
 scious. More than once he compares the faculty to 
 a shooting-dog or spaniel ; thus, in the Preface to 
 Annus Mirabilis, he writes : — 
 
 The faculty of imagination... like a nimble spaniel, beats 
 over and ranges through the field of memory, till it springs 
 the quarry it hunted after. 
 
The Quatrain Poems 103 
 
 This * spaniel ' of his requires a check ; and such a 
 check is provided by rhyme, which needs reflexion. \ 
 In the dedication of the Rival Ladies (pubHshed \ 
 1664) he had written that the chief benefit to be ) 
 derived from rhyme is 
 
 that it bounds and circumscribes the fancy. For imagi- 
 nation in a poet is a faculty so wild and lawless, that, like an 
 high-ranging spaniel, it must have clogs tied to it, lest it 
 outrun the judgement. The great easiness of blank verse 
 renders the poet too luxuriant ;... but when the difficulty of 
 artful rhyming is interposed... the fancy then gives leisure to 
 the judgement to come in. 
 
 This faculty of his is not sufficient in itself for the^ 
 highest work, but within its range it is excellent, [ . 
 especially when applied to the creation of metaphors y 
 and similes. .j^ 
 
 Of simile many good specimens are to be found > 
 in the Annus Mirabilis ; as, for instance, the dog 
 and hare, applied to the pursuing ship and the pur- 
 sued, both alike disabled : — 
 
 So have I seen some fearful hare maintain 
 
 A course, till tir'd before the dog she lay, 
 Who, stretch'd behind her, pants upon the plain, 
 
 Past power to kill as she to get away: 
 With his loU'd tongue he faintly licks his prey; 
 
 His warm breath blows her flix up as she lies; 
 She, trembling, creeps upon the ground away. 
 And looks back to him with beseeching eyes. 
 
 (i3i» 132) 
 Again, the falcon and crow : — 
 
 Have you not seen when, whistled from the fist, 
 Some falcon stoops at what her eye design'd, 
 
 And, with her eagerness the quarry miss'd, 
 
 Straight flies at check and clips it down the wind; 
 
I04 The Quatrain Poems 
 
 The dastard crow, that to the wood made wing 
 And sees the groves no shelter can afford, 
 
 With her loud caws her craven kind does bring, 
 
 Who, safe in numbers, cuff the noble bird. (86, 87) 
 
 Or the spider : — 
 
 So the false spider, when her nets are spread, 
 Deep ambush'd in her silent den does lie, 
 
 And feels far off the trembling of her thread, 
 Whose filmy cord should bind the struggling fly; 
 
 Then, if at last she find him fast beset. 
 She issues forth and runs along her loom : 
 
 She joys to touch the captive in her net 
 
 And drags the little wretch in triumph home. 
 
 (180, 181) 
 
 In the simile of the bees he is misled as to the facts 
 by Virgil, whom he is consciously imitating : — 
 
 All hands employ'd, the royal work grows warm ; 
 
 Like labouring bees on a long summer's day. 
 Some sound the trumpet for the rest to swarm. 
 
 And some on bells of tasted lilies play ; 
 
 With glewy wax some new foundation lay 
 
 Of virgin-combs, which from the roof are hung; 
 
 Some arm'd within doors upon duty stay 
 
 Or tend the sick or educate the young. (144, 145) 
 
 And in the simile of the gold in mines ripened by 
 the'*sun, he is misled by the science of his day : — 
 
 As those who unripe veins in mines explore 
 On the rich bed again the warm turf lay, 
 
 Till time digests the yet imperfect ore, 
 
 And know it will be gold another day. (^39) 
 
 One more illustration must suffice, that of the martlet 
 whose wet wings bring the first news of the coming 
 rain to the birds of lower flight : — 
 
The Quatrain Poems 105 
 
 As in a drought the thirsty creatures cry 
 And gape upon the gather'd clouds for rain, 
 
 And first the martlet meets it in the sky, 
 
 And with wet wings joys all the feather'd train, (no) 
 
 Here imagination seems to have outrun observation, 
 but the simile is pleasing. 
 
 Even in natural figures the ' spaniel ' sometimes 
 ranges too high ; as, for instance, in the comparison 
 of the small squadron surrounded by a larger squad- 
 ron to the swordfish and the whale : — 
 
 Our little fleet was now engag'd so far 
 
 That like the sword-fish in the whale they fought; 
 
 The combat only seem'd a civil war, 
 
 Till through their bowels we our passage wrought. (79)^ 
 
 The reader will notice in Dryden's work a cer- 
 tain coldness of emotion ; imagination is with him 
 detached from feeling, as in the often quoted line 
 describing the result of an attack upon the richly 
 laden Dutch ships : — 
 
 Some preciously by shatter'd porcelain fall 
 
 And some by aromatic splinters die. (29) 
 
 More than one explanation can be found for this 
 bluntness of feeling. It is partly due to the actual 
 barbarian survivals of the time. Traitors' heads 
 were exposed on London Bridge, and in the conclu- 
 sion of Dryden's opera of Albion and Albanius there 
 was a representation upon the stage of Shaftesbury's 
 'tap' — an appliance rendered necessary by a physical 
 infirmity. It is also partly due to an ungoverned 
 passionate curiosity for fact, common to the age, and 
 specially characteristic of Dryden. But it is in the 
 main inherited (and not yet worked off) from 
 
io6 The Quatrain Poems 
 
 Shakespeare and the Jacobeans generally ; cold 
 horror, however, has become more repulsive with 
 increased precision of style and expression. 
 
 Dryden's figures in Annus Mirabilis are some- 
 times, but not commonly, mere conceits. Thus, in 
 stanza 178 : — 
 
 A breeze from westward waits their sails to fill 
 And rests in those high beds his downy wings. 
 
 But such false points are rare. 
 
 If we examine in detail the images applied by 
 Dryden to the supernatural we shall be struck by 
 the concrete and material conception of the ' other- 
 world' which they exhibit. His antique and Pagan 
 * Heaven,' or sky, has been already noticed, but it 
 does not stand alone. This material and concrete 
 view is partly of the age or inherited from prede- 
 cessors — Donne, for instance, and Herbert^ — but it 
 
 ^ See, for instance, Herbert The Holy Communion (second 
 poem) : — 
 
 Before that sin turn'd flesh to stone, 
 
 And all our lump to leaven, 
 A fervent sigh might well have blown 
 
 Our innocent earth to Heaven. 
 For sure when Adam did not know 
 
 To sin, or sin to smother, 
 He might to Heaven from Paradise go 
 
 As from one room t' another. 
 
 Or Whitsunday : — 
 
 Such glorious gifts Thou didst bestow, 
 
 That th' earth did like a Heaven appear: 
 The stars were coming down to know 
 
 If they might mend their wages, and serve here. 
 
 And Donne, Ascension : — 
 
 O strong Ram, which hast batter'd Heaven for me. 
 
 Mild Lamb, which with Thy Blood hath mark'd the path 1 
 
The Quatrain Poems 107 
 
 was congenial to Dryden's positive mind. He took 
 religion as he found it, without much interest in it 
 during the middle years of his life, and it is rare to 
 find in him any sense of mystery, 
 
 An interesting illustration of his attitude is 
 furnished by stanzas 209-211, where he makes the 
 transition between the two subjects of his poem, 
 passing from the naval victories to the fire of 
 London : — 
 
 But ah ! how unsincere are all our joys, 
 
 Which sent from Heaven, like lightning, make no stay ! 
 
 Their palling taste the journey's length destroys, 
 Or grief sent post o'ertakes them on the way. 
 
 Swell'd with our late successes on the foe, 
 
 Which France and Holland wanted power to cross, 
 
 We urge an unseen fate to lay us low 
 
 And feed their envious eyes with English loss. 
 
 Each element His dread command obeys 
 Who makes or ruins with a smile or frown ; 
 
 Who as by one He did our nation raise, 
 So now He with another pulls us down. 
 
 The nation, that is, blessed by one element, water, 
 is ruined by another, fire. Dryden here clearly does 
 not mean any irreverence, and yet, look at the 
 grotesque imagery of the first of these stanzas, with 
 its suggestive reminiscences of the deterioration of 
 vegetables and foreign groceries on their way be- 
 tween London and Charlton, where Dryden was 
 writing; the joys from Heaven are compared to 
 spoilt provisions, and the passage to Heaven is a 
 long post-stage ! In the intermediate stanza we may 
 note the introduction of the pagan idea of Nemesis, 
 
io8 The Quatrain Poems 
 
 the jealous fate that overtakes prosperity. This 
 Dryden would have considered an established figure, 
 independent of any actual belief in such a power. 
 But the introduction of Nemesis here is neverthe- 
 less chilling to a spiritual imagination. 
 
 Somewhat similar is his conception of the limited 
 and anthropomorphic Deity. His concrete imagina- 
 tion extends from mystery itself to acts of mystery, 
 such, for instance, as the Creation, and this attitude 
 is especially common in his treatment of kings in 
 general and the King in especial. Kings are to him 
 earthly Gods. The view is partly living and politi- 
 cal, derived from his sense of the importance of 
 monarchy — his politics we discuss elsewhere^ — partly 
 literary, due to his study of the Roman poets, Virgil, 
 Horace, Ovid, and others, with their feeling for 
 the worship and religion of the Rom.an Emperor. 
 A specimen of this attitude is found in the stanzas 
 where he is describing how Charles orders the repair 
 of the fleet after the ' Four Days Battle.' The King's 
 external relation to the successive stages of the war 
 is compared to the Creator's relation to the days 
 of creation : — 
 
 So looks our Monarch on this early fight, 
 
 The essay and rudiments of great success. 
 Which all-maturing time must bring to light, 
 
 While he, like Heaven, does each day's labour bless. 
 Heaven ended not the first or second day. 
 
 Yet each was perfect to the work design'd : 
 God and kings work, when they their work survey, 
 
 And passive aptness in all subjects find. (140, 141) 
 ^ See above, pp. 19 ff., 49 fi; 
 
The Quatrain Poems 109 
 
 This is not personal servility or adulation. The 
 poet feels the greatness of obedience and of a cohe- 
 rent frame ; the greatest thing we see is compared 
 to the greatest that we know — the universe. But 
 the cold and unmysterious imagination degrades it. 
 
 Somewhat similar objections have been felt to 
 Dryden's treatment of Old Testament stories, but 
 these stories are not always spiritual, and Dryden 
 seems to me sound in instinct here. Take, for 
 instance, the touching of the ark, in stanza 94. 
 During Albemarle's retreat after the second day's 
 battle one of the pursuing ships was unexpectedly 
 sunk. The fortune seemed miraculous, and Dryden 
 writes : — 
 
 The foe approach'd ; and one for his bold sin 
 Was sunk, as he that touch'd the Ark was slain. 
 
 Scott calls this profane. I do not feel it so, and at 
 all events, we may welcome the fine figure which 
 follows : — 
 
 The wild waves master'd him, and suck'd him in, 
 And smiling eddies dimpled on the main. 
 
 The politics of the Annus Mirabilis are out of 
 date. It is largely coloured by animosity against 
 the Dutch ; the Dutch figure, for instance, is a sub- 
 ject of attack : — 
 
 Vast bulks, which little souls but ill supply. (70) 
 
 Dryden's materialism here is antique ; he is thinking 
 of soul as soul- substance, not as immaterial spirit. 
 But even so the allusion is to us somewhat coarse, 
 
no The Quatrain Poems 
 
 and again here, as so often, there is too familiar a 
 handHng of mystery. Such formations — vast bodies 
 with Httle souls — are according to him specially liable 
 to nightmare ! and there follows a splendid descrip- 
 tion of nightmare : — 
 
 In dreams they fearful precipices tread, 
 
 Or shipwrack'd labour to some distant shore, 
 
 Or in dark churches walk among the dead; 
 
 They wake with horror and dare sleep no more. (71) 
 
 Dryden is not insensible to the pathos of war, 
 and gives his compassion to Dutch sufferers in 
 four stanzas (32-35) marked by good taste. He 
 supposes some Dutch merchant-vessels from the 
 east to have been captured by the English, a likely 
 enough incident. Pure reality is Dryden's strength, 
 and elegiac meditation is suitable to his chosen 
 metre : — 
 
 Go, mortals, now and vex yourselves in vain 
 For wealth, which so uncertainly must come ; 
 
 When what was brought so far and with such pain 
 Was only kept to lose it nearer home. 
 
 The son who, twice three months on the ocean tost, 
 Prepar'd to tell what he had pass'd before, 
 
 Now sees in English ships the Holland coast 
 
 And parents' arms in vain stretch' d from the shore. 
 
 This careful husband had been long away 
 
 Whom his chaste wife and little children mourn, 
 
 Who on their fingers learn'd to tell the day 
 On which their father promis'd to return. 
 
 Such are the proud designs of human kind. 
 And so we suffer shipwrack everywhere ! 
 
 Alas, what port can such a pilot find 
 
 Who in the night of Fate must blindly steer ! 
 
The Quatrain Poems 1 1 1 
 
 To understand Dryden's attitude in the poem, 
 we must realise what was the contemporary concep- 
 tion of the European situation. England had been 
 mistaken in the policy pursued from the days of 
 Elizabeth to those of Oliver, the policy of depressing 
 Spain and raising Holland and France, more danger- 
 ous enemies. Both these countries were ungrateful 
 for English aid rendered in the past, and so Dryden, 
 writing of the second battle on July 25, St James's 
 Day, says : — 
 
 Or if too busily they will enquire 
 
 Into a victory which we disdain, 
 Then let them know the Belgians did retire 
 
 Before the patron saint of injur'd Spain. 
 
 Repenting England, this revengeful day, 
 To PhiHp's manes did an offering bring, 
 
 England, which first by leading them astray 
 Hatch'd up rebellion to destroy her King. 
 
 Our fathers bent their baneful industry 
 To check a monarchy that slowly grew, 
 
 But did not France or Holland's fate foresee, 
 
 Whose rising power to swift dominion flew. (197 ff.) 
 
 And then former Dutch and French statesmen are 
 represented as disapproving the conduct of their 
 ungrateful successors : — 
 
 But whate'er English to the blest shall go, 
 And the fourth Harry or first Orange meet. 
 
 Find him disowning of a Bourbon foe 
 
 And him detesting a Batavian fleet. (201) 
 
 This stanza has been ill explained. Scott says — 
 and Christie takes the same view — that William 
 
1 1 2 The Quatrain Poems 
 
 che Silent repents his rebellion against Spain, and 
 Henri IV his wars in France, as having encouraged 
 rebellion generally and especially in England. The 
 first of these explanations is irrelevant, and the 
 second inconsistent with the words ' Bourbon foe.' 
 The opponents of Henri IV were not Bourbons, but 
 of the House of Valois ; the Bourbon dynasty came 
 in with Henri IV. The 'Bourbon foe' of this 
 stanza is Louis XIV, disowned by Henri IV his 
 grandfather, as a foe to the English \ William the 
 Silent, the * first Orange,' detests the fleet of Holland 
 as employed against his benefactors. The point is 
 worth notice because Dryden is rarely obscure. 
 
 We pass to the second portion of the poem, the 
 Fire of London. The transition to this from the 
 naval victories has been described above. An early 
 stanza in the account of the fire will remind the 
 reader, both in subject and metrical form, of Gray's 
 famous line, ' Some Cromwell guiltless of his 
 country's blood.' Dryden's stanza runs : — 
 
 As when some dire usurper Heaven provides 
 To scourge his country with a lawless sway; 
 
 His birth perhaps some petty village hides 
 
 And sets his cradle out of Fortune's way; (213) 
 
 In the preceding stanza we have a comparison to 
 the Day of Judgement ; the fate of London is 
 
 ^ The above note was written in 191 1, in ignorance that the 
 same explanation of this passage had been made a year earlier by 
 Mr G. C Macaulay {Mod. Lang. Review^ Vol. v, p. 234). 
 
The Quatrain Poems 113 
 
 - Great as the world's, which at the death of time 
 Must fall, and rise a nobler frame by fire. 
 
 Dryden's imagination was always haunted by the 
 Day of Judgement. It appears and re-appears in 
 his work. Criticism of his treatment might be 
 multiplied, but it is enough here to set beside the 
 lines just quoted — reminiscent, as Dryden tells us, 
 of a passage in the Metamorphoses of Ovid (vii 453) — 
 the naive representation of contemporary belief in a 
 later stanza : — 
 
 Night came, but without darkness or repose, 
 A dismal picture of the general doom; 
 
 Where souls distracted, when the trumpet blows, 
 And half unready with their bodies come. (254) 
 
 This part of the poem contains an abundance of 
 fine lines and passages ; take for instance the three 
 stanzas beginning with the following : — 
 
 The diligence of trades, and noiseful gain, 
 And luxury, more late, asleep were laid; 
 
 All was the Night's, and in her silent reign 
 
 No sound the rest of Nature did invade. (216) 
 
 Or again the nine stanzas of the King's prayer, too 
 long to quote here, beginning : — 
 
 *0 God' said he, 'Thou patron of my days, 
 Guide of my youth in exile and distress ! 
 
 Who me unfriended broughtst by wondrous ways, 
 The kingdom of my fathers to possess.' (262) 
 
 The supernatural imagination in this part of the 
 poem is perhaps more successful than usual. The 
 description in stanzas 279 and 280 oddly anticipates 
 (with a difference) Milton's description in the Third 
 
 V. D. 8 
 
114 The Quatrain Poems 
 
 Book of Paradise Lost, published a few months 
 later. There too, in the ' Empyrean,' surrounded by 
 'thrones' and 'dominions,' the Almighty contem- 
 plates a burning world, from whose ashes a new earth 
 shall arise. Here, 
 
 In the empyrean Heaven, the blest abode, 
 The thrones and the dominions prostrate lie, 
 
 Not daring to behold their angry God; 
 
 And a hush'd silence damps the tuneful sky. 
 
 At length the Almighty cast a pitying eye, / 
 And mercy softly touch'd His melting breast j 
 He saw the town's one half in rubbish lie 
 And eager flames give on to storm the rest. 
 
 Then, after describing the * hollow crystal pyramid * 
 with which the Almighty extinguished the flames, 
 Dryden tells us that 
 
 Each household Genius shows again his face 
 And from the hearths the little Lares creep. 
 
 The introduction of Roman mythology into the 
 midst of the scriptural imagery is more surprising 
 to the modern reader than to Dryden's contempo- 
 raries. Bacchus and Christ both appear, for instance, 
 in the opening Canto of Camoens' Portuguese epic, 
 the Lusiad, of which the first English translation, 
 by Fanshawe, had appeared in 1665, ^^<^ Milton 
 himself in Paradise Lost converts the Pagan gods 
 into fiends ^P.L, i 437-521). 
 
 The same intermingling of disparate supernatural 
 elements occurs in the allusion to the destruction of 
 St Paul's, which perished, Dryden tells us, though 
 it was dedicated to God and had been celebrated 
 
The Quatrain Poems 115 
 
 by Waller on the occasion of its reparation by 
 Charles I : — 
 
 Nor could thy fabric, Paul's, defend thee long, 
 , Though thou wert sacred to thy Maker's praise. 
 Though made immortal by a poet's song, 
 
 And poets' songs the Theban walls could raise. (275) 
 
 The technical execution of the whole poem is 
 excellent, and shows a marked advance on the 
 earlier quatrain poem. Forced rhyme, for instance, 
 is almost unknown. There is one example in the 
 unusual sense given to the word 'doom' (st. 207), 
 suggesting that it has been brought in, amid the 
 prosy details of stanzas 206, 207, for the rhyme with 
 'loom,' and possibly a similar reason accounts for 
 the unusual meaning of 'succeed,' in the sense of 
 ' make to succeed ' in stanza 292, though the word 
 is used in the same sense elsewhere by Dryden. 
 Weak rhymes are very rare ; ' murderer ' rhyming 
 with 'appear' is an almost solitary instance and 
 Dryden is seldom contented even with such gene- 
 rally recognised rhymes as ' destiny ' with ' shall be ' 
 (st. 200), or ' industry ' with ' foresee ' in stanza 1 99, 
 quoted above. 
 
 One dubious case there is where the rhyme in 
 the last line seems forced on a first reading, but a 
 change in punctuation would remedy this by giving 
 a point to the rhyming word. Dryden is pro- 
 phesying the development of the new ' Augusta 
 Londiniensis ' which is to be built in the place 
 of the old London which the fire had destroyed. 
 
 8—2 
 
ii6 The Quatrain Poems 
 
 The stanza as commonly punctuated runs as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 More great than human now and more August, 
 New deified she from her fires does rise : 
 
 Her widening streets on new foundations trust, 
 
 And, opening, into larger parts she flies. (295) 
 
 If, however, we punctuate the last line thus, * And 
 opening into larger parts, — she flies,' the last word 
 gains a meaning in the comparison of the city to a 
 * deified ' Heracles, purged by burning, rarified, and 
 so more able to ascend the sky. With the quotation 
 of the two beautiful stanzas next following we con- 
 clude our examination of the poem : — 
 
 Before, she like some shepherdess did show 
 Who sate to bathe her by a river's side. 
 
 Not answering to her fame, but rude and low. 
 Nor taught the beauteous arts of modern pride. 
 
 Now like a maiden queen she will behold 
 From her high turrets hourly suitors come; 
 
 The East with incense and the West with gold 
 Will stand like suppliants to receive her doom. 
 
 (296, 297) 
 
V 
 
 LITERARY CRITICISM IN THE AGE OF DRYDEN : 
 THE 'UNITIES'; THE ESSAY OF DRAMATIC 
 POESY 
 
 Reason for discussing the * Unities of Aristotle ' 
 in connexion with Dryden 
 
 Dryden's prose works are mainly critical, and 
 are largely concerned with dramatic criticism, a very 
 considerable part of his prose writings being in the 
 form of Prefaces to plays or poems, dedications, and 
 so on. The most attractive perhaps are An Essay 
 of Dramatic Poesy (1668), its sequel The Defence of 
 an Essay of Dramatic Poesy, and — the work of his 
 last days — the Preface to the volume called Fables, 
 published in 1 700. These are all included in the two 
 volumes of Professor Ker's selection of Dryden's 
 prose works {Essays of John Dryden), a book indis- _ 
 pensable to students. The two first are full of tfielfc ' 
 current contemporary discussion of the dramatic j 
 rule of the 'Unities' as propounded by French I 
 critics — Bossu, Rapin, and others — and more of -\ 
 less acknowledged and obeyed by Corneille. Some 
 understanding of the contemporary view is therefore 
 
ii8 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 necessary to readers of Dryden. Moreover the sub- 
 ject itself is most curious as affording a specimen 
 alike of the development of a theory and of the 
 strange working of the human mind — the obstinate 
 persistence of errors once made, and the extreme 
 difficulty of retracing steps. 
 
 No complete statement on the matter, however, 
 
 is to be found. The assumption of the sixteenth 
 
 and seventeenth century critics is that the ' rule of 
 
 the Unities' is to be found, not textually but in 
 
 substance, in Aristotle's Poetics, which is a treatise 
 
 on tragedy, and in Horace's Ars Poetica\ and further 
 
 they assume that the rules were observed in practice 
 
 by the ancient tragedians, notably by Sophocles and 
 
 Euripides, from observation and criticism of whom 
 
 Aristotle drew his principles \ 
 
 _Now all this is untrue. The theory of the 
 
 ^ I * Unities ' is a mere piece of confusion, arising from 
 
 I a false attempt to justify supposed ancient practices 
 
 L which, so far as they existed, had a totally different 
 
 origin. But these facts are nowhere clearly given. 
 
 Commentaries on Aristotle and on ancient drama 
 
 are indifferent to the theory of the ' Unities ' — by 
 
 which here and always I mean the Renaissance 
 
 ^ It is just, however, in speaking of the Renaissance criticism, 
 to draw a certain distinction in favour of the earlier Italians. 
 These understood Aristotle far better, and represented his 
 opinions, both on this and on other matters, with far greater 
 fidelity than their followers. The doctrine of the Unities was not 
 fully formulated until nearly the end of the sixteenth century, 
 and it was afterwards developed on French rather than on Italian 
 soil. 
 
Age of Dry den 119 
 
 doctrine — and students of the Renaissance are little 
 concerned with the ancients. Professor Ker, for 
 instance, in his edition of Dryden's Essays, is excel- 
 lent and full in reference on the Renaissance view, 
 but says nothing of the ancient practice. Nor does 
 he give material for estimating the value of what 
 Dry den says about * the ancients,' outrageous state- 
 ments by Dryden being passed in silence ; and it is 
 the same with other editors. 
 
 The subject is one with which I have myself 
 partly dealt in an essay on the Unity of Time 
 appended to an edition of the Ion of Euripides 
 (Introduction, pp. xlviii ff.) but that book is perhaps 
 not easily accessible, the essay does not deal with 
 the matter completely, and it is not specially adapted 
 to students of Dryden. 
 
 The practice of the Athenian tragedians 
 
 We must begin by asking, What was the practice, 
 so far as relevant to our purpose, of the ancient 
 Athenian tragic poets. An integral part of their 
 stage-machinery, quite unrepresented in ours, was 
 the Chorus, a body of performers singing and ac- 
 companying their song by symmetrical movements 
 or figures, generally pairs of figures — that is, the 
 same figure danced twice. The number of per- 
 formers in the tragic Chorus was eventually fifteen. 
 
 Greek tragedy was originally choric, what we call 
 drama — that is to say, dialogue — being an addition. 
 
I20 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 The single performer of the earlier days, who con- 
 versed with the leader of the Chorus, had developed 
 at the great period of Greek drama into three actors, 
 and between the scenes of dialogue, the Chorus 
 performed choric movements accompanied by songs 
 expressing or commenting on the dramatic situation. 
 A broad difference between the scenes and the choric 
 interludes was made by the metre used : the scenes 
 of dialogue were written in a simple metre resem- 
 bling our blank verse, while the choric figures and 
 corresponding metres were highly elaborate and 
 various. There was also a difference in the language 
 used in the two parts, besides other differences which 
 we may pass, only noting generally that between the 
 dialogue-scenes and the interludes there was a broad 
 unmistakable distinction, corresponding with the 
 difference of their nature. To put it briefly, the 
 scenes were dramatic, in our sense of the word, and 
 the interludes were not. 
 
 Between the successive scenes there would natu- 
 rally be, and is, a supposed interval of time, sufficient 
 to cover some necessary intermediate action ; — as 
 for instance, while some one consults an oracle, while 
 an assembly is held, while a battle is fought, while 
 a messenger goes and returns, etc.*, etc. These in- 
 tervals are of various length, defined sufficiently by 
 the dialogue-scenes and by the natural relation of 
 scene to scene. 
 
 These supposed intervals or lapses of time, are 
 represented by the choric interludes, which were 
 very suitable for the purpose, inasmuch as the nature 
 
Age of Dry den 121 
 
 of the choric performances was not dramatic. Song 
 is sung and figure danced, and, prompted by this 
 interruption of the action, we suppose the lapse of 
 time, for which the previous scene has prepared us 
 and which the following scene assumes. Thus, the 
 choric interludes play the part of our drop-scene or 
 curtain. Probably no curtain was used by Aeschylus, 
 Sophocles and Euripides, but this point we need not 
 here investigate ; the choric interlude is equivalent 
 to the curtain of the modern theatre. 
 
 Note also that the Chorus, the fifteen performers 
 so called, were, after their original entry, on the 
 scene throughout. They represented such bodies 
 as councillors (of a king), visitors (of a woman in 
 distress), and so on. Their main function in de- 
 veloped tragedy was to sing and perform the inter- 
 ludes, for which purpose they largely dropped their 
 character ; but their leader, and sometimes others, 
 also took part in the scene-dialogue. 
 
 Now the question arises : Did this method of 
 exhibiting stories in action impose any restriction 
 on the choice and shape of the story or action which 
 should be represented ? 
 
 Let us clear this question. A narrative is obvi- 
 ously unlimited (a) in respect of the time covered, 
 which may, for instance, be a whole reign, a life, the 
 rise and fall of the Roman Empire, the world from 
 Genesis to the Day of Judgement ; and {b) in changes 
 of place. Dramatic representation makes in theory 
 no difference. There would be no difficulty in repre- 
 senting the reign of Victoria by successive scenes 
 
122 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 distributed over the time covered — such as the 
 Coronation, the Queen's Marriage, the Russian War, 
 the Indian Mutiny, the death of the Prince Consort, 
 the Queen's Proclamation as Empress of India, and 
 the Boer War — the supposed place varying accord- 
 ingly, while the lapses of time were covered by 
 lowering a drop-scene. Shakespeare's historical 
 plays are instances in point, and in The Winter s 
 Tale there is a gap of a whole generation. Were 
 then the Athenians, with their choric method of 
 performance, equally free ? 
 
 In theory perhaps they were. It would be 
 possible to have a Chorus, whether silent or speak- 
 ing in the scenes, marking each division of the 
 scenes by a choric song. In some such fashion, in 
 Shakespeare's Henry V, the Chorus, admitted 'to 
 this history,' is present throughout, and delivers a 
 Prologue to each Act and the Epilogue to the whole. 
 And we are told by Aristotle {Poetics v) that origi- 
 nally the same freedom of time-limit was admitted 
 in Greek tragedy as in epic poetry. 
 
 But practically it was not so. Let us take a 
 modern illustration and suppose that the ' Reign of 
 Victoria ' is to be represented in this fashion. Our 
 Chorus is to be present at the Coronation, the 
 Indian Mutiny, and the Jubilee, taking part in each 
 event. How could this fail to strike the audience 
 as unnatural and absurd ? Further how could the 
 Chorus, the same persons, be at a scene of the 
 Indian Mutiny, and at a scene of the Boer War? 
 Thus the existence of the Chorus imposes a 
 
Age of Dry den 1 23 
 
 practical restriction both on the total time covered / 
 by the story and on the variation of its place. 
 
 First as to * Time.' The restriction on the total 
 of the supposed time is not definable but is manifestly 
 narrow : the scenes have to be all such and so related 
 that the same body of subordinate personages could 
 be fairly supposed present at all. Such a condition > 
 is really impossible, nor did the Athenians really ' 
 fulfil it ; when the stage convention was thoroughly 
 established, unnatural choruses — the presence, that 
 is, of persons unlikely in fact to be there — came to 
 be ignored. But the smaller the total time covered 
 by the action, the less apparent the break with 
 nature. No actual rule was ever laid down, so far 
 as we know, but in practice the total time did not 
 usually exceed a 'day' (taken loosely) with some / 
 invasion of the preceding or succeeding night. Con- 
 sideration will show that this was the natural practical 
 outcome. 
 
 There was then no rule, nor was there any absolute 
 uniformity of practice. Aeschylus, being earlier in 
 manner, is not for this purpose representative, as in 
 his day the practice was hardly established. But 
 look at Euripides' play The Suppliants, written late 
 in the classical century, say about 420 B.C. In that 
 play there is a gap in the action which must allow 
 for the raising of an army at Athens, its march to 
 Thebes, and its triumph and return, altogether a 
 period of ten days or more ; the total time of the 
 play therefore includes and exceeds this period. 
 The gap is conventionally represented in the usual 
 
124 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 way by a choric song, equivalent to our curtain. 
 The scenes preceding and following the gap are at 
 the same place, namely, beside an altar, where the 
 Chorus is supposed to be found again after the inter- 
 val. The circumstances are fairly favourable to this 
 arrangement, but it is rather a strain upon the imagi- 
 nation of the audience. 
 
 Now observe : there is no pretence or suggestion 
 in Euripides' Suppliants that the action is comprised 
 in a day ; it manifestly is not, but contains a gap of 
 ten days. The facts supposed are as clear as in 
 The Winter's Tale or any modern play — only the 
 gap is less conveniently represented, and in such a 
 way that an element not very natural is introduced 
 into adjacent scenes, namely, the presence in each 
 of the Chorus. In this there is no absurdity, no 
 obscurity ; only, I repeat, a certain inconvenience. 
 This inconvenience is generally avoided by the Greek 
 tragedians, in spite of the inconvenience, in another 
 way, of an action limited to * a day.' 
 
 Next as to ' Place.' Here restriction was in- 
 evitable ; a shift of scene meant a supposed move of 
 the Chorus, and a move of the Chorus is open to 
 more than one objection : it is difficult to justify in 
 the action, and it leaves the scene empty, an awkward 
 thing where there is no curtain. Numerous moves 
 would result in a grotesque effect, like that de- 
 liberately intended by the moving about Paris of the 
 wedding party in Labiche's play, Le Chapeau de 
 Paille dVtalie. Thus under the conditions of Greek 
 drama a change of scene was not in itself desirable, 
 
Age of Dry den 125 
 
 and the simplicity of Greek scenery perhaps further 
 commended the Athenian usage. There was, how- 
 ever, no rule nor any uniformity of observance. 
 In the Ajax of Sophocles, for instance, the scene 
 changes some half-way through the play from the 
 ground before the tent of Ajax to a lonely spot on 
 the seashore, and the Chorus makes a second entry. 
 But in the general practice there was identity of 
 place in all the scenes. 
 
 Lastly, these practical restrictions of time and 
 place tended perhaps to reinforce a universal rule or 
 prescription, common to good narrative as to good 
 drama — namely, that all the scenes told or shown 
 should illustrate the theme of the story. If you 
 narrate or show a scene which might, it is true, 
 occur in the series, but which throws no light on the 
 story, you distract attention and obscure your pur- 
 pose. Athenian tragedy was less tempted to ignore 
 this principle, because, with a narrow limit to the 
 supposed time of action and with identity of place, 
 there was no room for excrescences. It was hard 
 enough to get in all that was relevant and necessary. 
 The extant tragic poets almost never offend in this 
 way, though some tragedians, so Aristotle tells us, 
 did so offend {Poetics ix 10). 
 
 The Athenian tragic practice, which I have been 
 shortly describing, is surely quite simple, clear, and 
 natural in the circumstances. Ancient Comedy I 
 will not touch, among other reasons for these two : 
 our examples are deficient, and Aristotle's treatise is 
 confined to Tragedy. I only note that, though in 
 
126 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 the Later Comedy there was no Chorus, the tragic 
 precedent seems to have restricted possible liberties. 
 But our information on this subject is defective and 
 our inferences must be uncertain. 
 
 3 
 Aristotle s ^Poetics ' 
 
 About a century later than the great age of 
 Greek tragedy Aristotle wrote the Poetics, which is 
 a theory of tragedy based on observation and on 
 criticism of the classical practice, mainly the practice 
 of Sophocles and Euripides ; the work is, however, 
 incomplete, confused, and often obscure. Let us 
 examine what Aristotle says of our three topics, 
 (i) limitation of supposed time, (2) identity of sup- 
 posed place, (3) relevance of the separate scenes to 
 the general theme of the story. Does he on these 
 
 ^—matters give any precept ? 
 
 / (i) Limitation of the total supposed time he 
 
 /notes as a fact of practice'. * Tragedy endeavours, 
 a?1sr as possible, to confine itself to a single revolu- 
 tion of the sun, or but slightly to exceed this limit'' 
 [Poet, v 4). It is to be observed that Aristotle does 
 not give any opinion upon the practice, which he 
 neither commends nor blames. Probably he per- 
 ceived the truth, that the limitation was inconvenient, 
 but for the Athenian or Choric form of tragedy 
 practically necessary ; and it Is noteworthy that 
 
 ' Here and throughout the translation used is that of Professor 
 Butcher in Aristotle^ s Theory of Poetry and Fine Art. 
 
Age of Dry den 127 
 
 he expressly keeps open the question whether the 
 Athenian form is the best and ultimate form of 
 tragedy. He takes that form as a datum. {Poet, iv 
 1 1 ). Nor does he explain the grounds of this practice 
 of time-limitation, but simply states it as a fact and 
 lea^s it. 
 
 / (2) About the identity of the supposed place he 
 ^ys nothing at all. If he had, he would probably 
 have treated it, like the limitation of time, as a fact 
 of practice. But he says nothing about it. Some 
 Renaissance critics notice this omission, and Dryden, 
 in the person of Eugenius, in the Essay of Dramatic 
 Poesy, mentions it : — 
 
 But in the first place give me leave to tell you, that the 
 Unity of Place, however it might be practised by them, was 
 never any of their rules: we neither find it in Aristotle, 
 Horace, or any who have written of it, till in our age the 
 French poets first made it a precept of the stage. 
 
 ({Z) About the relevance of scenes he is, on the 
 other hand, explicit and emphatic. His word for 
 stenes is 'episodes ' (epeisodia). From this he coins 
 an adjective (epeisodiodes , i.e. 'epeisodic') to describe 
 a play in which the scenes, or some of them, have no 
 connexion of relevance to a common theme, scenes 
 of which you can only say that such a series might 
 occur in nature, though there is no reason why it 
 should, the facts of one scene not being such as to 
 lead expectation to the next. This adjective (epei- 
 sodiodes) is not a particularly happy coinage, but 
 with explanation it is intelligible. And he observes, 
 quite justly, that to be 'epeisodic,' broken into, or 
 
128 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 interrupted by, irrelevant scenes, is the worst fault 
 that a play, a tragedy, can have. ' Of all plots and 
 actions the epeisodic are the worst. I call a plot 
 " epeisodic " in which the episodes, or acts, succeed 
 one another without probable or necessary sequence' 
 {Poet, IX lo). He adds an interesting remark, that 
 poets, skilful enough to avoid this fault, are some- 
 times led into it by a desire to accommodate \\\- 
 dividual actors. 
 ^ Finally, we may note that Aristotle does not 
 I bring these topics (time, place, relevance) into any 
 Xconnexion with one another. 
 
 4 
 
 Remarks on the Athenian practice and Aristotle's 
 
 comment 
 
 First let me make clear what is not found either 
 in Athenian practice or in Aristotle's comments : — 
 
 (i) The word 'unity' is never used in regard 
 to the first two topics, limitation of time, and identity 
 ■piarer- Aristotle has no word covering ' Unity' as 
 used in the Renaissance theory of drama ; he has 
 indeed no occasion for any such word. 
 ^ (2) Neither the practice, or practices, of the 
 dramatists, nor the remarks of Aristotle have any- 
 thing to do with the * imitation of Nature,' still less 
 with a delusive resemblance to actual transactions, 
 such that the spectator might fancy himself to be at 
 the place and time of the story. The fact that all the 
 scenes of (say) Euripides' Hippolytus are supposed. 
 
Age of Dry den 129 
 
 and can easily be supposed, to occur within a day, 
 has not the least bearing on the question whether, 
 how far, and in what sense, that play exhibits an 
 imitation of reality. An interval of three days 
 between the curse of Theseus and its fulfilment 
 would make no difference in this respect. Again, 
 the Ajax of Sophocles is not less easily conceived 
 as a real occurrence because the action is at one 
 point removed from the tent of Ajax to the shore. 
 Relevance of scenes, upon which Aristotle insists, 
 does not help the delusion of reality, but quite the 
 contrary. The insertion of irrelevant scenes would 
 make that conception easier. And in fact neither 
 the tragic poets nor Aristotle show any desire for 
 such a delusion. The Greek plays, with their Chorus\ 
 and their versified dialogue, are totally unlike reality. 
 Nor did the Greeks feel, so far as we know, that this 
 was an objection. Delusion never occurred to them 
 as an aim ; right or wrong, they did not think of it.X 
 
 (3) It is not suggested, either by ancient prac- 
 tice or by Aristotle, that the scenes of a drama 
 should be, or conveniently can be, continuous in 
 supposed time one with another. The scenes are 
 separated by imaginary gaps of time, conventionally 
 represented by choric songs. Limitation of time, 
 identity of place, relevance of scenes, do not affect 
 this discontinuity, which the poets use and which 
 Aristotle assumes as a matter of course. 
 
 V. D. 
 
130 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 5 
 
 Renaissance critics on Ancient Drama 
 
 Now, with this in mind, let us consider the follow 
 ing. Dryden writes, in the Essay of Dramatic Poesy : 
 (Prof. Ker's Edition, vol. i, p. 48 f.) : — 
 
 Euripides, in tying himself to one day, has committed an 
 absurdity never to be forgiven him; for in one of his tragedies 
 {The Suppliants^ to which reference has been made above] he 
 has made Theseus go from Athens to Thebes, which was 
 about forty English miles, under the walls of it to give battle, 
 and appear victorious in the next act; and yet, from the 
 time of his departure to the return of the Nuntius, who 
 gives the relation of his victory, Aethra and the Chorus have 
 but thirty-six verses ; that is not for every mile a verse. 
 
 L""^ — ^ Passages like this are common in the Renaissance 
 discussions of drama. But Dryden's graceful prose 
 is extravagant nonsense. For, consider: 'Euripides,' 
 he says, 'in tying himself to one day...' but The 
 Supi)liants is not limited to a day ; for it contains, as 
 appears by Dryden's own reference, a gap in the 
 action of (say) ten days, and that we are to suppose 
 these ten days comprised in a day is nowhere at all 
 suggested. 
 
 Again : Thirty-six verses, not a verse to a 
 mile.... Here is more extravagant nonsense. The 
 thirty-six verses form a choric song or ode, doubt- 
 less accompanied by the usual figures, varied move- 
 ments fitted to music. Greek Tragedies assume, as 
 everyone who understood them must see, that such 
 performances, being suspensions of dramatic action. 
 
Age of Dry den 131 
 
 interludes in fact, are to be used, and are accepted, 
 as equivalents for our drop-scene or curtain. The 
 length of the song, the time taken to perform it, has 
 no more to do with the time supposed to be covered, 
 than has the time taken in lowering and raising the 
 curtain (one minute), which may represent any time 
 required, five minutes, an hour, a day, a week, or 
 whatever the relation of the scenes suggests and 
 requires. If Euripides is here absurd, all Greek 
 tragedies are absurd, for all exhibit choric odes 
 covering by imaginative convention a period of time 
 largely, and often enormously, exceeding the time of 
 performance ; such as a battle (in the Septem of 
 Aeschylus), a debate in an assembly (Euripides' 
 Orestes), the going and return of some person to a 
 place six miles off (Euripides' Bacckae), twenty miles 
 off (Sophocles' Trachiniae\ and so on. In all such 
 cases the ' absurdity ' supposed by Dryden's speaker 
 (Charles, Lord Buckhurst, afterwards Lord Dorset, 
 called in the Essay Eugenius), is as manifestly present 
 as in the particular case which he has before him. 
 In reality there is no * absurdity ' or ' difficulty ' what-- 
 ever. 
 
 Or take this passage from the Defence of an 
 Essay of Dramatic Poesy (Prof. Ker's Edition, vol. i, 
 
 p. 128):- 
 
 There is a greater vicinity in nature betwixt two rooms 
 than betwixt two houses; betwixt two houses, than betwixt 
 two cities ; and so of the rest : Reason therefore can sooner 
 be led by imagination to step from one room into another, 
 than to walk to [i.e. between] two distant houses, and yet 
 
 9 — 2 
 
 ^ 
 
132 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 rather to go thither, than to fly like a witch through the air, 
 and be hurried from one region to another.... So then, the 
 less change of place there is, the less time is taken up in 
 transporting the persons of the drama, with analogy to reason ; 
 and in that analogy, or resemblance of fiction to truth} ^ consists 
 the excellency of the play. 
 
 And this is supposed to be in some way commended 
 by Aristotle and by the practice of the Ancients ! 
 
 Again, I can only say that it is extravagant 
 nonsense and has nothing to do with the Ancients ; 
 Dryden asserts that, if we as audience are asked to 
 imagine a change in the supposed place of action, 
 we do it more easily if the new place is near the 
 other — that it is easier to transfer the scene in imagi- 
 nation from the Great Court of Trinity College to 
 the Nevile than from Trinity to Pembroke, and 
 from Trinity to Pembroke than from Cambridge to 
 London. Everybody who has seen plays, or read 
 stories, and will consider his experience, must know 
 that this is simply false. Yet similar things occur 
 everywhere in the Renaissance controversy. 
 
 If Dryden's argument has any substance, how 
 could the scene of the play ever be supposed distant 
 from the place of its performance ? Dryden chooses 
 \Q apply his principle to change of scene. But what 
 of the original supposition, at the opening of the 
 play ? The curtain goes up, an actor comes on, and 
 we, sitting at the Cambridge Theatre, are told that 
 the place of action is King's Parade, London, Paris, 
 New York, or the Antarctic Circle. Would Dryden, 
 
 ^ The italics are the lecturer's. 
 
^S^ of Dry den 133 
 
 or anybody in his senses, say that our ease in mak- 
 ing this supposition instantaneously is proportioned 
 to the real distances, or in the least affected by 
 them ? But why not, if Dryden's principle is sound 
 at all ? 
 
 6 
 
 How did this nonsense come to be talked b^ 
 men of sense ? 
 
 j No one, by natural unprejudiced thinking, could 
 4iave evolved it. It comes of trying to make a 
 theory of drama which will fit authorities misunder- 
 stood. The process is common, and this is an in- 
 structive example. 
 
 The fundamental error consists in a misunder- 
 standing both of the nature of dramatic or other 
 artistic representation and of Aristotle's theory of 
 dramatic representation. Evidently serious drama 
 demands, in some sense, ' imitation of nature.' Mac- 
 beth and Othello interest and please us partly because 
 their language and acts seem natural in the circum- 
 stances. Even bold imagination owes some respect ^ 
 to nature, if we are to be seriously interested ; there 
 is a ' nature ' for dragons : a dragon reasonably 
 ' swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail ' ; a 
 dragon should not hang out the wash upon drying 
 lines. 
 
 And on * imitation ' (mimesis) Aristotle insists. 
 His definition of tragedy begins with the words : / 
 ' Tragedy is the imitation of an action that is serious, 
 complete,' etc. [Poetics vi 2), and he repeats the 
 
134 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 phrase more than once (vi 5, 9, vii 2). What he 
 meant by this, and in particular by the word ' imita- 
 tion,' is a very abstruse question. Readers interested 
 are referred to the discussion in the second chapter 
 of Professor Butcher's Aristotle s Theory of Poetry 
 and Fine Art (pp. 121-162). Here I need only say 
 /that Aristotle does make prominent as an element in 
 vtragedy something which he calls * imitation.' 
 
 The error into which the Renaissance critics are 
 drawn is this : Dramatic imitation means the produc- 
 tion in the spectator of a fancy, or a voluntary 
 delusion that he is bodily present at the place and 
 time of the supposed action ; and this is what 
 Aristotle means when he demands ' imitation.' It 
 would be easy to show how profound is the error 
 about Aristotle, but here I must be content to say 
 that the Greek method of performance excluded all 
 possibility of delusion. Yet a consideration of the 
 passage just quoted from the Defence of an Essay of 
 Dramatic Poesy to which I would recall attention, 
 evidently assumes that delusion is the object. Such 
 a view is palpably false, and only confusion and 
 nonsense could come of it. The theatre no more 
 produces delusion than a picture does. 
 
 Let us follow out the matter and see what are 
 
 the legitimate deductions from the ' delusion ' theory : 
 
 ( Deduction i . The supposed time of a play should 
 
 (^ equal to the time reqtured for the performance. 
 
 Observe that here first comes into view the time 
 
 of performance — not in the ancient practice, nor in 
 
 Aristotle. 
 
Age of Dry den 135 
 
 ^■^J) eduction 2. The performance, the supposed 
 action, and the supposed time, should be all continu- 
 ouhrim^oken, consisting of one scene, a dialogue, 
 or a series of dialogues naturally leading into one 
 another ; there should be no curtain, no drop-scene, 
 no empty stage, nor any equivalent such as the 
 ancient choric odes. 
 
 Observe again that here, and not in ancient 
 practice, nor in Aristotle, appears the notion of 
 'continuity of time' 
 
 I -£> eduction 3. The place, of course, must be 
 ^denlii^l throughout. 
 
 This theory was never perhaps explicitly stated 
 and has certainly never been completely realised ; 
 the two first requirements are indeed practically 
 impossible. But it was a legitimate result of the 
 ' delusion ' theory, and lurks perpetually behind the 
 Renaissance debate on 'the Unities.' 
 ^^ _The resulting problem for the Renaissance critics, 
 /then, was : to find these precepts, or something as 
 like them as possible, in the ancient practice and in 
 Aristotle, and their solution of the problem was as 
 foTtows : 
 
 Prescription i. The ancient 'day' was supposed 
 to be an approximation to the time of performance. 
 Such a supposition is perfectly baseless, and on the 
 face of it false and absurd. 
 
 Here is a specimen of the resulting nonsense : 
 Dryden in the Defence (Prof. Ker's Edition, vol. i, 
 p. 129) writes : — 
 
 Now, no man ever could suppose, that twenty-four real 
 
136 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 hours could be included in the space of three; but where is 
 the absurdity of affirming, that the feigned business of twenty- 
 four imagined hours may not more naturally be represented 
 in the compass of three real hours, than the like feigned 
 business of twenty-four years in the same proportion of real 
 time? For the proportions are always real, and much 
 nearer,... of twenty-four to three than of four thousand 
 to it. 
 
 This, of course, is all nonsense. If the 'feigned 
 business ' were to be really copied and shown — a 
 thing which Dryden tacitly assumes — 'twenty-four 
 hours ' could no more be represented in three hours 
 than twenty-four years. Three hours' business and 
 no more could be shown. But in fact no dramatist 
 or audience, ancient or modern, ever thought of 
 showing or seeing the whole business of the time 
 supposed. The business of twenty-four hours is 
 never represented; and in plays where the limit of 
 a day ' is most strictly observed the omissions are 
 just as palpable as in the business of a week. Select 
 pieces, such as are important and relevant, are shown, 
 and the gaps between these pieces are figured by a 
 curtain or its equivalent (choric ode, etc.), and 
 passed over by the imagination of the audience. 
 This is equally true of Euripides and of Shakespeare. 
 But, this once seen, the notion that the supposed 
 time is compressed into the time of performance — 
 twenty-four hours crowded into three, as Dryden 
 says — either by Euripides or by Shakespeare is un- 
 tenable, and twenty-four years is, so far as concerns 
 the working of the imagination, just as manageable 
 as twenty-four hours. This is not to say that there 
 
Age of Dry den 137 
 
 may not remain reasons for preferring a shorter 
 time, but the desire to come nearer the time of per- 
 formance is simply irrelevant. 
 
 (Prescription 2. The performance and the sup- 
 posed time should be continuous. 
 
 The performance in the case of Sophocles and 
 Euripides is in one sense continuous — that is to say, 
 the stage is generally not empty from the beginning 
 to the end. But parts of this performance (choric 
 ode, etc.), are equivalent to curtains, and mark 
 breaks in the supposed time. By ignoring this and 
 confusing continuity of performance with continuity 
 of supposed time, ancient practice in Athenian tragedy 
 and this second prescription might seem to accord. 
 But such a view depends upon the failure to dis- 
 criminate between scene-dialogue and Chorus. 
 
 Further, in Comedy (Plautus and Terence), care 
 was generally taken to make the dialogue continuous 
 between curtain and curtain, inside the Acts, so as 
 to avoid an empty stage. The tragedians did the 
 same between ode and ode. This continuity of an 
 Act, which is commendable, is not the same thing as 
 the continuity of the play. The plays were not con- 
 tinuous, whether Tragedies or Comedies. But this 
 distinction again could be ignored, and liaison des 
 scenes (continuity of the Act) talked about as if it 
 had some bearing on the limitation of the whole 
 time. It is so in Dryden. 
 
 j^Prescription 3. The place should be identical 
 tHcoughout. 
 
 This should have been simple, since Euripides 
 
138 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 Xand Sophocles do generally observe this rule, though 
 C^^EioX. on grounds of theory. But here came in a new 
 element of confusion, a needless debate about the 
 best form of scenery. Mystery plays required scenes 
 shown in a row side by side, and in France the 
 theatre for a time followed suit, as is pointed out by 
 Professor Ker {Introd. p. xlv). The theatre there- 
 fore has to show together and all the time places 
 enough for all the scenes of the play — as, for instance, 
 a palace hall and the ground outside of it. Assum- 
 ing this, it was of course desirable that the places so 
 combined in stage representation should be places 
 as near as possible together ; it would not be satis- 
 factory to have half the stage London and the other 
 half Paris. Now the ' delusion ' theory required 
 that there should be only one scene, and a confused 
 attempt was made to accommodate the requirements 
 of the French theatre to the * delusion ' theory by 
 the audacious assertion, already cited, that the imagi- 
 nation could travel more easily over a short distance 
 than a long one. The English theatre was never 
 thus embarrassed ; there the different scenes were 
 successive, and not simultaneously exhibited or indi- 
 cated, but the English discussion was affected by 
 the French practice, as we see in Dryden's com- 
 ments^ 
 
 ere is a specimen of the r esultant non sense, 
 en writes in the Defence (Prof. Ker's Edition, 
 
 p. 128):- 
 
 For what else concerns the Unity of Place, I have already 
 given my opinion of it in my Essay^ that there is a latitude 
 
Age of Dry den 139 
 
 to be allowed to it, as several places in the same town or city, 
 or places adjacent to each other in the same country; which 
 may all be comprehended under the larger denomination of one 
 place^ \ yet with this restriction, that the nearer and fewer 
 those imaginary places are, the greater resemblance they will 
 have to truth; and reason, which cannot make them one, will 
 be more easily led to suppose them so. 
 
 Here there is visible confusion, explicable only 
 by a knowledge of the preceding history of the vari- 
 ous ideas, thus : ' one place ' comes from ancient 
 general practice, and the 'delusion' theory; 'nearer' 
 imaginary places from French scenery ; ' fewer ' 
 imaginary places from the ' delusion ' theory quali- 
 fied in practice ; ' greater resemblance to truth ' and 
 ' reason more easily led ' from the ' delusion ' theory 
 supported by false psychology. 
 
 T^e word * U nity ' 
 
 The word ' Unity/ first applied, I think, to Unity | 
 of Action, by which is meant the relevance of all / 
 scenes and so the exclusion of unconnected plots — 
 was sharpened to mean the exclusion of any second- 
 ary plot whatever. It should be noted that the 
 ' delusion ' theory did not theoretically command 
 'unity of action,' for real proceedings do not exhibit 
 such unity. Yet practically, in a way it did ; since 
 the narrowness of the supposed time squeezed out 
 all secondary matter and made one plot, and a thin 
 plot, necessary. Moreover the artistic instinct of 
 
 ^ The italics are the lecturer's. 
 
140 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 dramatists favoured this * Unity,' and Aristotle was 
 ready to help. 
 
 The combination of stories is the chief excellence 
 of narrative ; look, for instance, at the multiplicity 
 lots interwoven in Tom Jones or, still more, in 
 Middlemarch. If such combination is to be ex- 
 cluded from drama, it is purely by necessity and for 
 theatrical convenience. There is no principle in- 
 /volved ; if the plots are all relevant to one another, 
 *the principle is satisfied. 
 
 The fact that the phrase ' Unity of Action ' is 
 also applied to continuity within the Act, the liaison 
 des scenes, has introduced a gratuitous element of 
 confusion. And the word 'Unity' was subsequently 
 extended from ' Unity of Action ' to include limita- 
 tion and continuity of time — ' Unity of Time' — and 
 identity of place — ' Unity of Place.' There is no 
 merit in either application. But the use of the word 
 'Unity' linked up the whole hnbroglio under the 
 name of ' The Three Unities.""' — 
 
 The general question of what should be the 
 length of the action covered by a play, and how far 
 change of scene should be permitted, can of course 
 be separated from the fictions and fallacies of Renais- 
 sance critics, but whether with much result seems 
 to me doubtful. On both sides brilliant examples 
 can be cited, and neither Racine's Andromaque on 
 the one hand, nor Macbeth or The Winter s Tale — 
 an extreme case — on the other, must be excluded 
 by any critic's rule. Different effects naturally are 
 produced by the different methods : the effect of 
 
^g^ of Dry den 141 
 
 Andromaque depends on the contraction of the 
 story and the close cohesion of the scenes ; that of 
 Macbeth on diffusion and separation. But such con- 
 siderations open up a large question, and in any 
 case free discussion is not relevant to Dryden's two 
 Essays, for his whole treatment i^-entangled in a 
 historic al ( imbrogli o) and, apart from style, mainly 
 interesting for that reason. 
 
 Dryden is readable even when he talks nonsense : 
 and this, of himself, he seldom woiild^HoT H js en- 
 tanglement in th e errors oft his time is noti c^ble 
 only, that we may discount it ^,nd dgJlim justice. 
 
 8 
 
 Other points in Dryden s Essays 
 
 But I must not leave the subject of these two 
 Essays without a brief notice of other points of 
 interest to students, besides the treatment of the 
 Unities. One of these, the use of rhyme in plays, 
 was of considerable temporary importance. On this 
 question Dryden changed his mind and his practice. \ 
 The Essay of Dramatic Poesy and the Defence belongj[>^ 
 to the period when he favoured rhyme. Aristotle io./ 
 his definition of tragedy {Poet, vi 2, 3) treats verse 
 both in the scenic dialogue and in the choric odes as 
 a 'seasoning flavouring,' like the ornamental language, t-^ 
 and on this principle he might have allowed that 
 rhyme should be given to audiences who by tra- 
 ditional preparation of their ear, or from the nature 
 of their language, required it. Can the matter be 
 
142 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 carried much deeper ? If rhyme is not necessary to 
 the ear it is certainly inadmissible, since it embarras- 
 ses the free development and shaping of sentences, 
 so important to dramatic movement; Dryden vainly 
 endeavours to show or to suggest that rhymed verse, 
 by overlapping, by the arbitrary admission of half 
 lines, or other devices, can acquire the desirable 
 freedom. Later on, led among other reasons by his 
 admiration for Shakespeare, he came round to the 
 other side. But this proves nothing, except for 
 English, and conceivably not even so much. We 
 cannot tell how a new genius might manage to com- 
 bine the ' freedom ' and the * flavouring.' Tradition, 
 however, is adverse and this is an important point. 
 On the question of Dryden's personal feeling, Pro- 
 fessor Ker remarks truly {Introd, pp. 1, li) that 
 what Dryden really desired was the rhyme for itself 
 rather than the rhymed play. He satisfied his 
 instinct not in drama at all but in Absalom and 
 Ackitopkel, Palamon and ArcitCy and other such 
 works. 
 
 Many interesting remarks are scattered through 
 the Essays. Take for instance the following para- 
 graph from the Defence : — 
 
 But I will be bolder, and do not doubt to make it good, 
 though a paradox, that one great reason why prose is not 
 to be used in serious plays, is, because it is too near the 
 nature of converse: there may be too great a likeness; as the 
 most skilful painters affirm, that there may be too near a 
 resemblance in a picture : to take every lineament and 
 feature is not to make an excellent piece, but to take so 
 much only as will make a beautiful resemblance of the whole : 
 
Age of Dry den 143 
 
 and, with an ingenious flattery of nature, to heighten the 
 beauties of some parts, and hide the deformities of the 
 rest. 
 
 Dry den here seems about to shake off the *delu-\ 
 sion ' theory altogether. You can have, he says, 
 only such imitation as is compatible with your art- 
 form. This is an approach to the real Aristotle, 
 but it is only a glimpse. ^ 
 
 Elsewhere in the Essay he tells us that a serious 
 play is Nature wrought up to a higher pitch ; * a 
 play to be like Nature is to be set above it ' ! And 
 he justifies the decoration of rhyme, like other forms 
 of decoration in the imitative arts, as being an 
 equivalent for the greatness of Nature which is 
 excluded from representation by the scale and con- 
 ditions necessary to Art. 
 
 Earlier in the Essay he defends the mixture of 
 tragedy and comedy as not bad in itself if com- 
 patible with unity of action : — 
 
 And this leads me to wonder why Lisideius and many 
 \ others should cry up the barrenness of the French plots, 
 
 above the variety and copiousness of the English. Their 
 plots are single ; they carry on one design, which is pushed 
 forward by all the actors, every scene in the play contributing 
 and moving towards it. Our plays, besides the main design, 
 have underplots or by-concernments, of less considerable 
 persons and intrigues, which are carried on with the motion 
 of the main plot : just as they say the orb of the fixed stars 
 and those of the planets, though they have motions of their 
 own, are whirled about by the motion of the Primum Mobile^ 
 in which they are contained. That similitude expresses 
 much of the English stage ; for if contrary motions may be 
 found in nature to agree ; if a planet can go east and west 
 
144 Literary Criticism in the 
 
 at the same time, one way by virtue of his own motion, the 
 other by the force of the First Mover, it will not be difficult 
 to imagine how the under-plot, which is only different, not 
 contrary to the great design, may naturally be conducted 
 along with it. 
 
 Yet he confuses himself with the strange and 
 barbarous notion of * comic relief and says, shortly 
 before : — 
 
 A continued gravity keeps the spirit too much bent ; we 
 must refresh it sometimes, as we bait in a journey, that we 
 may go on with greater ease. A scene of mirth, mixed with 
 tragedy, has the same effect upon us which our music has 
 betwixt the acts; and that we find a relief to us from the best 
 plots and language of the stage, if the discourses have been 
 long. I must therefore have stronger arguments, ere I am 
 convinced that compassion and mirth in the same subject 
 destroy each other. 
 
 And here he enters no caveat as to unity of action. 
 This view was perhaps impressed upon him by the 
 demands of his audience. In the Preface to Don 
 Sebastian he writes : ' I have observed, that the 
 English will not bear a thorough tragedy ; but are 
 pleased, that it should be lightened with under-parts 
 of mirth.' 
 
 Both the passages just quoted from the Essay 
 are very well written and good specimens of his 
 prose style, and the dignified humour of the com- 
 parison of the English stage to the movement of 
 the planets is characteristic. 
 
 In a passage, assigned to Lisideius, on dying on 
 the stage there is an excellent touch in the ' Roman 
 gladiator ' : — 
 
Age of Dry den 145 
 
 I have observed that in all our tragedies, the audience 
 cannot forbear laughing when the actors are to die ; it is the 
 most comic part of the whole play. All passions may be 
 lively represented on the stage, if to the well-writing of them 
 the actor supplies a good commanded voice, and limbs that 
 move easily, and without stiffness : but there are many 
 actions which can never be imitated to a just height : dying 
 especially is a thing which none but a Roman gladiator 
 could naturally perform on the stage, when he did not imi- 
 tate or represent, but naturally do it; and therefore it is 
 better to omit the representation of it. 
 
 In defiance alike of contemporary and Eliza- 
 bethan practice, he pleads for the abolition of armies 
 on the stage and the substitution of narratives — 
 what he calls ' relations ' : — 
 
 But there is another sort of relations, that is, of things 
 happening in the action of the play, and supposed to be 
 done behind the scenes ; and this is many times both con- 
 venient and beautiful ; for by it the French avoid the tumult 
 which we are subject to in England, by representing duels, 
 battles, and the like; which renders our stage too like 
 the theatres where they , fight prizes. For what is more 
 ridiculous than to represent an army with a drum and five 
 men behind it; all which the hero of the other side is to 
 drive in before him ; or to see a duel fought, and one slain 
 with two or three thrusts of the foils, which we know are so 
 blunted, that we might give a man an hour to kill another in 
 good earnest with them. 
 
 There is good sense here and so also in the replicant, 
 Neander (representing Dryden himself), and his 
 defence of tumultuary scenes, because the English 
 will have them : that is to say, the practical theatre 
 cannot be bound by pure theory ; traditional expec- 
 tation and the ' stream of the people's inclination ' 
 V. D. 10 
 
146 Literary Criticism in the Age of Dry den 
 
 must be considered. The artist must be content to 
 do what he should so far as he can. 
 
 I must not conclude without drawing attention 
 to the admirable introduction to the Essay of Dra- 
 matic Poesy, the raising of interest by the allusion 
 to the battle of June 3, 1665 : ' It was that memor- 
 able day, in the first summer of the late war, when 
 our navy engaged the Dutch ' ; and the skilful 
 passage to the critical discussion of toleration : 
 'Crites...said, smiling to us, that if the concernment 
 of this battle had not been so exceeding great, he 
 could scarce have wished the victory at the price he 
 knew he must pay for it, in being subject to the 
 reading and hearing of so many ill verses as he was 
 sure would be made upon it.' 
 
VI 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS POEMS 
 
 Rehgio Laid and The Hind and the Panther 
 
 For Dryden's religious opinions there is little 
 evidence until we come to his two religious poems 
 published respectively in November 1682 and April l^ 
 1687. Nor is there any reason why there should 
 be such evidence. In 1686 we have the startling 
 circumstances of his public conversion at a time of 
 national crisis, conversion to the views of the King 
 but to the unpopular side. His motives are perhaps 
 ambiguous, but he has always stood for the repre-\y^ 
 sentative renegade. The__.tnQgTaphIcal problem is 
 interesting to men of letters, whether they like or 
 dislike Dryden, and has been discussed, among 
 others, by Johnson, Scott, Macaulay, and Mr Saints- 
 bury. 
 
 As to the times before 1681 there is little to say. 
 Dryden was not a public man, and did not directly \^ 
 discuss political or religious subjects. He was a 
 professed member of the Church of England and a 
 * King's servant ' ; a * prerogative man ' in politics, 
 when he thought of it, and a royalist, though not of 
 
 10- 
 
^L 
 
 148 The Religious Poems 
 
 the Anglican religious type, the type devoted to 
 the * blessed memory' of 'Charles the Martyr.' 
 Dryden's type was rather that of the royalist of the 
 Long Parliament, before the acute division of parties ; 
 he was a Churchman by profession, and thought the 
 profession of Churchmanship sufficient. For his 
 general views, besides the tone of Religio Laid and 
 the statements in The Hind and the Panther (to be 
 quoted later) there is evidence in the Preface to 
 Tyrannic Love (printed 1670) and in the State of 
 Innocence^ (1674). No piety is shown in either, and 
 the general attitude suggested is one of scepticism. 
 
 Dryden's private conduct is not strictly relevant 
 to the question of his religious opinions and I shall 
 not here discuss it, beyond briefly saying that there 
 is nothing to show that he fell below his profession, 
 according to the standard of the day. Again his 
 literary offences are not relevant to his creed, though 
 they disprove the maintenance of a severe standard ; 
 that, however, he did not profess to maintain. 
 Burnet's^ description of him as ' a monster of im- 
 purity' is mere rhetoric, and any inference there- 
 from as to Dryden's religious belief is wholly inad- 
 missible. 
 
 What is clear is that he had a marked, dislike of 
 clergy of all sorts, as such. Was this due to his 
 own impatience of restriction ? Or to unreasonable 
 demands on the part of the clergy 1 There is 
 perhaps something of both in his attitude, but neither 
 is the main point. The main point is that be 
 ^ See below, p. 217. ^ See above, p. 25. 
 
The Religious Poems 149 
 
 regarded the clergy in general as tiresome disturbers 
 of jeace^. Kis feeling is represented, for instance, 
 in the character of the Mufti in Don Sebastian 
 (published in 1690) in speaking of whom Benducar 
 says : — 
 
 For churchmen, though they itch to govern all, 
 
 Are silly, woeful, awkward politicians : 
 
 They make lame mischief, though they mean it well. 
 
 The view was common among laymen at that time, 
 and not unnatural to men who remembered the 
 Bishops' War, or the conduct of Laud on the one 
 hand, and of the Puritans on the other. To many 
 laymen a * clergyman ' seemed only half a ' King's 
 subject.' Dry den constantly derides the pretensions 
 of the clergy to high character : see his Spanish 
 Friar (168 1-2) as well as the Mufti. In considering 
 his views about religion we must alike disregard both 
 his prejudice against the clergy, and clerical insinua- 
 tions, such as those of Burnet, against him. 
 
 Real^. Christianity was not fashionable at this 
 time and ^ Deism was regarded as the ' Natural 
 Religion.' The main points of Deism are noted in '^j 
 Religio Ldzcz [/^2-6i): God is worshipped by praise 
 and prayer, and by repentance; there is a com- 
 pensatory future state ; evidence for the existence of 
 this the Deists professed to derive from 'Reason': — 
 
 Our Reason prompts us to a future state, 
 The last appeal from Fortune and from Fate, 
 When God's all-righteous ways will be declar'd. 
 The bad meet punishment, the good reward. 
 
 Dryden in T/ie Hind and the Panther (published 
 
< 
 
 150 The Religious Poems 
 
 in April, 1687) admits that he has held no recog- 
 nised creed : — 
 
 My pride struck out new sparkles of her own. (i 75) 
 
 His creed was presumably some sort of Deism. 
 Mr Firth's note^ on this passage from The Hind 
 and the Panther (i 62-78) attaches * great autobio- 
 graphical importance ' to these lines, which ' help to 
 explain Dryden's conversion to Roman Catholicism.' 
 This view is confirmed by the incidental evidence of 
 Dryden's earlier works. The State of Innocence is 
 really Deistic and not Christian in tone ; in his play 
 of Tyrannic Love, the religion of St Catharine may 
 be mere philosophy. In the Preface to that play 
 he disclaims profanity, writing as follows : ' I am 
 charged by some ignorant or malicious persons with 
 no less crimes than profaneness and irreligion.' 
 Then after defending his treatment of Maximin, 
 which had been attacked by his critics, he concludes : 
 ' This, reader, is what I owed to my just defence, 
 and the due reverence of that religion which I pro- 
 fess, to which all men, who desire to be esteemed 
 good, or honest, are obliged. ... I ask leave to add ' 
 (in further evidence besides the witness of his ' own 
 conscience, which abhors the thought of such a 
 crime') 'my outward conversation, which shall never 
 be justly taxed with the note of atheism or profane- 
 ness.' But this disclaimer proves nothing as to his 
 positive belief; Deism is not profane. 
 
 ^ In his revision of Christie's Edition of Select Foenis by 
 Dry den (Clarendon Press, 1901). 
 
The Religious Poems 151 
 
 Then we come to the political crisis of 1680, 
 purely political as presented by Dryden (in Absalom 
 and Ac hit op he I), but at root religious, and likely to 
 stimulate in Dryden interest in theology. Dryden's 
 party, the National party, was largely composed of 
 real Anglicans, and very important services were 
 rendered to the party by the Anglican clergy, espe- 
 cially the rural clergy. The City, the centre of the 
 opposite party, was largely Presbyterian and secta- 
 rian, representing Dryden's heartily disliked 'private 
 interpretation,' combined with Republicanism. Fur- 
 ther, Dryden was now passing out of middle life ; 
 he was fifty years of age, and a deeper consideration 
 of the problems of theology was quite natural, even 
 without external impulse. 
 
 Close consideration of Absalom and Achitophel 
 shows that Dryden's position was, even at that date 
 (November, 1681), very dubiously Anglican. He 
 emphasises, as we saw\ the ' native right ' of the 
 Roman Catholics, 'Jebusites,' as they are there called 
 (85 ff.), and his coarse satire on Transubstantiation 
 (118 ff.) shows rather religious insensibility than 
 hostile theology. Again the poem shows his dislike 
 of liberty and private judgement : — 
 
 Gods they had tried of every shape and size 
 
 That godsmiths could produce or priests devise. (49 f.) 
 
 His subsequent approach to religion is avowedly 
 political, as is shown in the Preface to Religio Laici 
 by his manner of dealing both with ' Papists ' and 
 with ' Sectarians.' 
 
 ^ See above, p. 83. 
 
V 
 
 152 The Religious Poems 
 
 This Preface is very well written. Its whole 
 professed purpose is to find a religious settlement 
 which will support the English monarchical and 
 limited constitution. He has no difficulty in show- 
 ing, by an appeal to history, that if one system is 
 to be universal it must be the Anglican ; neither 
 Roman Catholicism nor Free Churches can be uni- 
 versally acceptable in England. His demand of 
 proof for the truth of revealed religion is very 
 easy ; ' Let us be content at last to know God by 
 his own methods ; at least, so much of him as he 
 is pleased to reveal to us in the sacred Scriptures : 
 to apprehend them to be the word of God is all our 
 reason has to do ; for all beyond it is the work of 
 faith, which is the seal of Heaven impressed upon 
 our human understanding.' On the question of 
 ' faith ' in the Popish Plot, the Preface contains a 
 cutting hit at * Fanatics ' : ' As for the late design, 
 Mr Coleman's letters, for aught I know, are the 
 best evidence ; and what they discover, without 
 wire-drawing their sense or malicious glosses, all 
 men of reason conclude credible. If there be any- 
 thing more than this required of me, I must believe 
 it as well as I am able, in spite of the witnesses, and 
 out of a decent conformity to the votes of Parlia- 
 ment ; for I suppose the Fanatics will not allow the 
 private spirit in this case.' 
 
 Religio Laid is an exposition of Anglicanism : 
 Deism will not do ; Heaven must be revealed. 
 Christianity is taken on its moral merits : but what 
 of those who have not heard its truths ? Their 
 
The Religious Poems 153 
 
 salvation must be possible : ' It has always been my 
 thought, that heathens who never did, nor without 
 miracle could, hear of the name of Christ, were yet 
 in a possibility of salvation.' So he writes in the 
 Preface, and in the poem itself his view is thus 
 expressed : — 
 
 Then, those who follow'd Reason's dictates right, 
 Liv'd up, and lifted high their natural light. 
 With Socrates may see their Maker's face, 
 While thousand rubric-martyrs want a place. 
 
 (208 ff.) 
 
 This brings him to the consideration of the Athan- 
 asian Creed : — 
 
 Nor does it baulk my charity to find 
 The Egyptian Bishop of another mind, 
 
 and to the expression of the view that even for 
 Christians n ot much theology is desirable. Raising 
 this vital point, Dryden adds : — 
 
 Shall I speak plain, and in a nation free 
 Assume an honest layman's liberty? 
 I think, according to my little skill, 
 To my own mother Church submitting still. 
 That many have been sav'd, and many may. 
 Who never heard this question brought in play. 
 The unletter'd Christian, who believes in gross. 
 Plods on to Heaven and ne'er is at a loss; 
 For the strait gate would be made straiter yet. 
 Were none admitted there but men of wit. 
 
 (316 ff.) 
 
 But what guarantee is there for Revelation "^ 
 Dryden, as a scholar, admits that the Book of the 
 Scriptures rests on tradition. In doubt, where then 
 
154 The Religious Poems 
 
 is authority? This question is vaguely handled by 
 ^ him and his conclusion is practically based upon 
 English politics. Papist and Protestant ' Fanatics ' 
 are alike rejected, and a vague assumption is made 
 that in what is needful the Scriptures are clear : — 
 
 'Tis some relief, that points not clearly known 
 Without much hazard may be let alone; 
 
 and then he comes to the practical point : — 
 
 And after hearing what our Church can say, 
 
 If still our reason runs another way. 
 
 That private reason 'tis more just to curb 
 
 Than by disputes the public peace disturb. 
 
 For points obscure are of small use to learn : 
 
 But common quiet is mankind's concern. (443 ff.) 
 
 The style is admirable in its ease and flexibility. 
 A striking passage expresses the plain man's disgust 
 at fictitious demands upon ignorance, and his dislike 
 of priestcraft ; in his account of the medieval clergy, 
 Dryden recalls Chaucer ; like Chaucer he brings 
 out the humour of the thing : — 
 
 In times o'ergrown with rust and ignorance 
 A gainful trade their clergy did advance; 
 When want of learning kept the laymen low 
 And none but priests were authoriz'd to know ; 
 When what small knowledge was in them did dwell 
 And he a God who could but read or spell; 
 Then Mother Church did mightily prevail; 
 She parcell'd out the Bible by retail. 
 But still expounded what she sold or gave, 
 To keep it in her power to damn and save. 
 Scripture was scarce, and as the market went, 
 Poor laymen took salvation on content, 
 
The Religious Poems 155 
 
 As needy men take money, good or bad ; 
 
 God's word they had not, but the priest's they had. 
 
 Yet, whate'er false conveyances they made, 
 
 The lawyer still was certain to be paid. 
 
 In those dark times they learn'd their knack so well. 
 
 That by long use they grew infallible. 
 
 At last, a knowing age began to inquire 
 
 If they the Book or that did them inspire; 
 
 And making narrower search they found, though late. 
 
 That what they thought the priest's was their estate, 
 
 Taught by the will produc'd, the written word. 
 
 How long they had been cheated on record. 
 
 Then every man, who saw the title fair, 
 
 Claim'd a child's part and put in for a share. 
 
 Consulted soberly his private good. 
 
 And sav'd himself as cheap as e'er he could. (370 ff.) 
 
 Dryden had too much wit to pose as a prophet 
 but was not ill-pleased to find himself on a platform. 
 Xhe— ostensible occasion for the poem — a friends 
 tra nslatio n of a book on criticism of the Old Testa- 
 ment — is a mere pretext, but serves well. 
 
 Now in all this, is there any religion at all ^ 
 Religio Laid might well be dismissed as mere 
 politics but for its astounding commencement. That 
 this is a mere assumption for a political purpose, I 
 cannot admit ; after reading the Preface, the opening 
 of the poem surprises me fresh every time : — 
 
 Dim as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars 
 To lonely, weary, wandering travellers 
 Is Reason to the soul : and as on high 
 Those rolling fires discover but the sky. 
 Not light us here, so Reason's glimmering ray 
 Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way. 
 But guide us upward to a better day. 
 
i^ The Religiotis Poems 
 
 And as those nightly tapers disappear 
 
 When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere, 
 
 So pale grows Reason at Religion's sight, 
 
 So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light. 
 
 The Hind and the Panther 
 
 f " We have seen the sandy foundations of Religio 
 
 \ Laid, Dryden's hatred of 'private judgement,' the 
 
 ^ \ difficulty of distinguishing his actual position, his 
 
 { \ strong language on the desirability of infallible 
 
 authority : — 
 
 ' ~ Such an omniscient Church we wish indeed ; 
 
 'Twere worth both Testaments, and cast in the Creed; 
 
 -^^ — all point to his future conversion. This is noted 
 by several of his critics, and more particularly by 
 Mr Saintsbury, who discusses the question in the 
 fifth chapter of his Life of Dry den in the earlier 
 series of English Men of Letters, edited by Lord 
 Morley. 
 
 Dryden's conversion to Roman Catholicism took 
 place soon after the accession of James II, and is 
 often attributed to that event, and to that event 
 alone. But Dryden's interest in the change is not 
 so clear as his adverse critics would have us suppose. 
 Before his conversion James had confirmed his 
 tenure of the posts of Poet Laureate and Historio- 
 grapher Royal, and the salary pertaining to those 
 posts was more likely to be regularly paid under the 
 administration of James than it had been under that 
 of Charles. The grant, soon after his conversion, 
 of an additional pension of ;^ioo a year was no new 
 
 / 
 
The Religious Poems 157 
 
 thing, but only the renewal of the pension originally- 
 granted by Charles. No doubt his comfort at Court 
 was largely increased by his change of religion, and 
 we may say that there was probably ah immediate • 
 advantage in his conversion. But the advantage 
 was very precarious, depending as it did on the life 
 of James ; the life of James, however, was perhaps 
 good enough security for Dryden. It has been said 
 that Dryden ' did not foresee the Revolution ' ; this 
 is true but not the whole truth ; James's policy was 
 good only till the meeting of Parliament, and that 
 at the meeting of Parliament renegades were likely 
 to suffer, Dryden well knew. The ' wary savage,' 
 the Panther, standing for the Church of England, 
 would not give offence to the King : — 
 
 But watched the time her vengeance to complete, 
 When all her furry sons in frequent senate met, 
 
 and other references in Dryden's writings show his 
 recognition of the danger. Parliament had been 
 prorogued on November 20, 1685, and met no more 
 in the reign of James II. But such a state of things 
 could not have continued indefinitely. On the whole 
 therefore, and considering the internal evidence of 
 the two religious poems, Dryden is entitled to sus- 
 pense of judgement ; we cannot inspect his con- 
 science. 
 
 After his conversion in 1686 he was employed 
 J>y— the Government in prose controversy against / 
 Stillingfleet, ' the grim logician ' of the Third Part ^ 
 of Tke Hind and the Panther (193 ff.). But this 
 was not Dryden's line, and he soon turned to verse. 
 
158 The Religious Poems 
 
 The first policy of James 1 1 had been to induce the 
 Church of England to share her position with the 
 ' Roman Catholics, and he hoped, with the support of 
 the Anglican party, to obtain the abolition of the 
 Test. When this failed he adopted a new policy, 
 under which all sects, including the Roman Catholics, 
 were to ally together against the Church of England. 
 In accordance with this later policy, he issued the 
 
 / j Declaration of Indulgence — bestowed, that is to say, 
 
 I toleration by royal prerogative — in April 1687, 
 
 i shortly before the publication of The Hind and the 
 
 \ Panther. The inconsistency of the general tone of 
 
 ^ jthe poem with the King's newly-declared policy is 
 'admitted by Dryden in his Preface. ' There are 
 many of our sects... who have withdrawn themselves 
 from the communion of the Panther and embraced 
 this gracious Indulgence of his Majesty in point of 
 toleration. But. ..this Satire. ..is aimed only at the 
 refractory and disobedient on either side. For 
 those who have come over to the royal party are 
 consequently supposed to be out of gun-shot.' And 
 again, * About a fortnight before I had finished [the 
 poem], his Majesty's Declaration for Liberty of 
 Conscience came abroad : which if I had so soon 
 expected, I might have spared myself the labour of 
 writing many things which are contained in the 
 Third Part of it.' 
 
 On this subject of liberty of conscience he here 
 writes as follows : ' I may safely say, that conscience 
 is the royalty and prerogative of every private man. 
 He is absolute in his own breast, and accountable to 
 
The Religious Poems 159 
 
 no earthly power for that which passes only betwixt 
 God and him.' Such strong expressions, whether in 
 the Preface or in the poem, would be more estimable 
 had they preceded the announcement of the King's 
 policy, or had Dryden so spoken generally. But 
 they contrast strikingly with his peremptory treat- 
 ment of Schismatics of the English Church in the 
 Preface to Religio Laid : ' Thus sectaries, we may 
 see, were born with teeth, foul-mouthed and scur- 
 rilous from their infancy ; and if spiritual pride, 
 venom, violence, contempt of superiors, and slander 
 had been the marks of orthodox belief, the Presby- 
 tery and the rest of our Schismatics, which are their 
 spawn, were always the most visible Church in the 
 Christian world.' If, he concludes, they think them- 
 selves too roughly handled by him, * the best way 
 for them to confute ' him is * to disclaim their 
 principles and renounce their practices.' Not much 
 respect here for liberty of conscience ! 
 
 The motive of the King's policy was suspected 
 and his political method detested : the Declaration 
 of Indulgence was an arbitrary act contrary to the 
 Constitution and threatening danger to the rights of 
 Parliament. This point Dryden never touches. Did 
 he see it ? Did he ignore it ? Either way, the omis- V^ 
 sion is fatal to any political application of his poem. 
 
 We pass from the Preface to the poem itself. 
 The sects are called by various beast-names : the 
 * milk-white ' Hind represents the Roman Catholics, 
 the Wolf stands for the Calvinists, the quaking Hare 
 for the Quakers, and so on. The Hind is protected 
 
 / 
 
J 
 
 J 
 
 1 60 The Religious Poems 
 
 by the Lion, representing the King. The Church 
 of England is typified by the Panther, beautiful but 
 spotty. 
 
 On these lines no story is possible, and none is 
 attempted. The poem, in three large Books, con- 
 sists of talk on the situation between the Anglican 
 and the Roman Catholic. The story is simply that 
 the Hind, meeting the Panther with other beasts at 
 their watering-place, invites her to walk home, and 
 then spend the night at her 'cottage' (11 675); the 
 two talk. Even this is absurd. How about supper ? 
 There is nothing for the Panther except the Hind. 
 Dryden was well aware of the absurdity ; the 
 Panther, we are told, 
 
 civilly drew in her sharpen'd paws, 
 Not violating hospitable laws. 
 And pacified her tail and lick'd her frothy jaws. 
 
 (11 718 ff.) 
 
 and again : — 
 
 Others our Hind of folly will indite 
 
 To entertain a dangerous guest by night. 
 
 Let those remember that she cannot die 
 
 Till rolling time is lost in round eternity, (in 16 ff.) 
 
 Here Dryden plainly winks. 
 
 What then is the object of introducing the beast- 
 names ? Merely to divert attack from an amateur 
 theologian as such, in anticipation of such an attack 
 upon the poem as was in fact made by Montague 
 and Prior in The Country and the City Mouse. 
 The ' beasts ' are an excuse for lowering the theme 
 of the poem ; there was on this occasion to be none. 
 
The Religious Poems i6i 
 
 of the pomp oi Absalom and Achitophel, where theW 
 Biblical story was employed as a device for height- 1 
 ening the theme. 
 
 The personal and religious note is struck early 
 in the poem : — 
 
 But, gracious God, how well dost thou provide 
 
 For erring judgements an unerring guide ! 
 
 Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light, 
 
 A blaze of glory that forbids the sight. 
 
 O teach me to believe Thee thus conceal'd. 
 
 And search no farther than Thyself reveal'd ; 
 
 But her alone for my director take, 
 
 Whom Thou hast promis'd never to forsake ! 
 
 My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain desires ; 
 
 My manhood, long misled by wandering fires, 
 
 Follow'd false lights; and when their glimpse was gone 
 
 My pride struck out new sparkles of her own. 
 
 Such was I, such by nature still I am; 
 
 Be Thine the glory, and be mine the shame! (i 64 ff.) 
 
 There is nothing like this in Religio Laid ; are we 
 to say that it is hypocrisy ? 
 
 The notion of a bargain for salvation is still 
 pursued, as in the earlier poem, but Dryden now 
 will have a guarantee, and reprobates the pedd ling / 
 (^Reli gio Laici : — *" 
 
 To take up half on trust and half to try, 
 Name it not faith, but bungling bigotry. 
 Both knave and fool the merchant we may call 
 To pay great sums and to compound the small, 
 For who would break with Heaven, and would not break 
 for all? (I 141 ff.) 
 
 V. D. II 
 
1 62 The Religions Poems 
 
 Then we come to the Calvinist Wolf : — 
 
 More haughty than the rest, the wolfish race 
 
 Appear with belly gaunt and famish'd face; 
 
 Never was so deform'd a beast of grace. 
 
 His ragged tail betwixt his legs he wears, 
 
 Close clapp'd for shame ; but his rough crest he rears. 
 
 And pricks up his predestinating ears. (i i6o ff.) 
 
 This description is followed by the famous denun- 
 ciation of Geneva, the home of Calvin — Geneva, 
 situated on the shores of Lake Leman and close 
 under the Jura and the mountains of Savoy : — 
 
 What though your native kennel still be small. 
 
 Bounded betwixt a puddle and a wall; 
 
 Yet your victorious colonies are sent 
 
 Where the North Ocean girds the continent. 
 
 Quicken'd with fire below, your monsters breed 
 
 In fenny Holland and in fruitful Tweed; 209 
 
 And, like the first, the last affects to be 
 
 Drawn to the dregs of a democracy. (i 204 ff.) 
 
 \nv. 209 I suggest that the reading should be not 
 * in fruitful ' (two words) but ' infruitful ' ; a deroga- 
 tory epithet is wanted to pair with 'fenny' Holland, 
 and the barrenness of Scotland was, as we know, a 
 stock commonplace of the time and the subject of 
 more than one allusion^ in Absalom and Ac hit op he I. 
 
 After an indiscreet admission (291 ff.) that Italy 
 and Spain are models for England, Dryden passes 
 to an unworthy denunciation of the rural sects : — 
 
 A slimy-born and sun-begotten tribe. 
 
 Who, far from steeples and their sacred sound, 
 
 In fields their sullen conventicles found. (i 311 ff.) 
 
 ^ See above, p. 75. • 
 
The Religious Poems 163 
 
 The haughtiness is offensive, and we must not 
 forget-that the sects did not choose their solitude, 
 but were driven into it. But the expression is ad- 
 mirably vigorous : — 
 
 Souls that can scarce ferment their mass of clay, 
 
 So drossy, so divisible are they 
 
 As would but serve pure bodies for allay, (i 318 ff.) 
 
 The^mixed character of the Panther, the Church 
 of England, is utilised as one would expect.. Dry den 
 draws attention to the local character of the institu- 
 tion : — 
 
 To foreign lands no sound of her is come, 
 
 Humbly content to be despised at home; (i 404 f.) « 
 
 to the absence of authority to control private judge! ^ f^ 
 ment : — 
 
 As long as words a different sense will bear. 
 
 And each may be his own interpreter. 
 
 Our airy faith will no foundation find; 
 
 The word's a weathercock for every wind, (i 462 if.) 
 
 and passes to the epigrammatic conclusion : — 
 
 O solid rock, on which secure she stands ! 
 
 Eternal house, not built with mortal hands ! 
 
 O sure defence against the infernal gate, 
 
 A patent during pleasure of the State ! (i 493 ff.) 
 
 This part of the poem brings out clearly what 
 may be called Dryden's political objection to 
 Anglicanism, namely, that it is no safe foundation 
 for civil authority, for, as ' God's and kings' rebels 
 have the same good cause,' the Anglican Church 
 
 . wants innate auctority; 
 For how can she constrain them to obey 
 Who has herself cast off the lawful sway ? 
 
 II — 2 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
164 The Religious Poems 
 
 The same point is made again at some length in 
 Part II:— 
 
 But soon against your superstitious lawn 
 
 Some Presbyterian sabre would be drawn; 
 
 In your established laws of sovereignty 
 
 The rest some fundamental flaw would see, 
 
 And call rebellion gospel-liberty. (11 411 ff.) 
 
 In the Second Part the Panther, discussing 
 authority, soon raises the question of infalHbility : — 
 
 But, shunning long disputes, I fain would see 
 
 That wondrous wight, Infallibility. 
 
 Is he from Heaven, this mighty champion, come? 
 
 Or lodg'd below in subterranean Rome? 
 
 First, seat him somewhere, and derive his race, 
 
 Or else conclude that nothing has no place. (11 64 ff.) 
 
 To this passage Christie oddly appends the fol- 
 lowing note : — ' " Roma Sotteraneai" an extensive 
 cavern near Rome, formerly inhabited, described in 
 a work of that name published at Rome, circa 1632,' 
 and does not add that this ' extensive cavern ' is 
 better known as 'the Catacombs.' The book which 
 he mentions is A. Bosio's account of his exploration 
 of 'Subterranean Rome.' 
 
 The opening words of the Hind's answer: — 
 
 'Suppose, (though I disown it,)' said the Hind, 
 
 * The certain mansion were not yet assigned : 
 
 The doubtful residence no proof can bring 
 
 Against the plain existence of the thing. 
 
 Because philosophers may disagree 
 
 If sight by emission or reception be. 
 
 Shall it be thence inferr'd I do not see ? ' (11 70 ff.) 
 
The Religious Poems 165 
 
 are thus commented on by Johnson : * Dryden is 
 weak enough to ask, why, since we see, without 
 knowing how, we may not have an infallible judge 
 without knowing where.' Johnson's criticism, which 
 has met with the approval of others, is plausible but 
 clearly not fair. Dryden takes the authority of the 
 Church as a fact of historical experience, * the plain 
 existence of the thing' is not in his view dis- 
 putable. 
 
 After an account of Popes and General Councils, 
 etc., and a discussion on the value respectively of 
 Scripture and Tradition — a lively and simple narra- 
 tive impossible to summarise — we come upon a 
 passage almost tragically impressive : — 
 
 *If not by Scriptures, how can we be sure,' 
 
 Replied the Panther, 'what tradition's pure? 
 
 For you may palm upon us new for old; 
 
 "All," as they say, "that glitters is not gold."' 
 
 'How but by following her,' replied the dame, 
 
 'To whom deriv'd from sire to son they came; 
 
 Where every age does on another move, 
 
 And trusts no farther than the next above; 
 
 Where all the rounds Uke Jacob's ladder rise. 
 
 The lowest hid in earth, the topmost in the skies?' 
 
 Sternly the savage did her answer mark. 
 
 Her glowing eye-balls glittering in the dark. 
 
 And said but this : — ' Since lucre was your trade, 
 
 Succeeding times such dreadful gaps have made, 
 
 'Tis dangerous climbing : to your sons and you 
 
 I leave the ladder, and its omen too.' (n 212 ff.) 
 
 The omen of the gallows ! The Panther, in a diffi- 
 culty, escapes by a pjoJitkaL threat, consonant with 
 the tone of the times. Did Dryden feel the horror "^ 
 
1 66 The Religious Poems 
 
 Apparently he did feel it a little, and that, for the 
 age, is much. 
 
 The subject is continued at length — Apostles 
 
 (307), Epistles (335) and so on. The Hind still 
 
 puts the dilemma, that if Scripture is to be the 
 
 authority, an expositor is necessary ; if tradition, 
 
 ; tradition must be taken entire, as by the Roman 
 
 JsJ' Catholics. Dry den's Hind makes real points in this 
 
 1 discourse : — 
 
 y It then remains, that Church can only be 
 1/ The guide which owns unfaiHng certainty; (n 483 f.) 
 
 * * * * 
 But this unfailing universal State 
 
 You shun, nor dare succeed to such a glorious weight ; 
 
 (n 491 f.) 
 
 * * * * 
 
 J All which the Mother-Church asserts her own, 
 ^ And with unrivalled claim ascends the throne. (11 497 f.) 
 
 P^ The essence of Dryden's position is this : he 
 must have a guarantee ; only one dealer offers a 
 guarantee ; let us close, therefore, with this dealer, 
 
 ^and then do not haggle over details. 
 
 At this point he seems to feel the need for 
 lifting the theme ; — and he lifts it. His comparison 
 of the Church as the only adequate guarantor, to 
 the Redeemer as alone able to discharge man's obli- 
 / gation, suggests the well known Miltonic passage 
 in the Third Book of Paradise Lost (56-415), a 
 passage which Dryden compresses, with a gain of 
 strength and tenderness : — 
 
 So, when of old the Almighty Father sate, 
 In council to redeem our ruin'd state, 
 
The Religious Poems 167 
 
 Millions oC millions, at a distance round, 
 
 Silent the sacred consistory crown'd, 
 
 To hear what mercy mix'd with justice could propound; 
 
 All prompt with eager pity to fulfil 
 
 The full extent of their Creator's will. 
 
 But when the stern conditions were declar'd, 
 
 A mournful whisper through the host was heard, 
 
 And the whole hierarchy with heads hung down 
 
 Submissively declin'd the ponderous proffer'd crown. 
 
 Then, not till then, the eternal Son from high 
 
 Rose in the strength of all the Deity; 
 
 Stood forth to accept the terms, and underwent 
 
 A weight which all the frame of heaven had bent, 
 
 Nor he himself could bear, but as omnipotent, (ii 499 ff.) 
 
 Then we have a description of the marks of the 
 true Church, and incidentally touch a historical point 
 of some interest in the severe remarks on English 
 missions, or rather on the lack of them (11 556 ff.). 
 
 So we_^Hve atthe Hind/s^ cottage. The Hind . 
 i ^ poo r , and the Panther rich. H ere Dryden beg ins 
 to jes t. The Hind, for instance, begs the Panther 
 to stay. 
 
 For fear she might be wilder'd in her way, 
 
 Because she wanted an unerring guide. (11 682 f.) 
 
 In her words of welcome there is a strange mixture / 
 of classical allusion and Christian theology : — ^ 
 
 This peaceful seat my poverty secures ; 
 
 War seldom enters but where wealth allures : 
 
 Nor yet despise it, for this poor abode 
 
 Has oft receiv'd and yet receives- a God; 
 
 A God victorious of the St ygian r ace 
 
 Here laid his sacred limbs, and sanctified the place. 
 
 This mean retreat did mighty Pan contain. (11 705 ff.) 
 
1 68 The Religious Poems 
 
 The point is, I think, that the humblest church 
 V/ contains the Corpus Christi : so the Hind's poor 
 abode contains God. 
 
 The Third Part opens with much personal detail 
 of Dryden's controversy with Stillingfleet, and~ls 
 tedious unless we are filled with the subject. In 
 one place I would suggest a change in punctuation. 
 The Panther, following the line taken by Stilling- 
 fleet, is denying that the immediate cause of the 
 / separation of Henry VHI from the Church of Rome 
 / was the Pope's refusal to grant him a divorce from 
 Catherine of Arragon. The passage runs as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 Thus, our eighth Henry's marriage they defame ; 
 
 They say the schism of beds began the game, 
 
 Divorcing from the Church to wed the dame ; 
 
 Though largely prov'd, and by himself profess'd, 
 
 That conscience, conscience would not let him rest, 
 
 I mean, not till possess'd of her he lov'd, 208 
 
 And old, uncharming Catherine was remov'd. 
 
 For sundry years before did he complain, 
 
 And told his ghostly confessor his pain ! 
 
 (in 203 ff.) 
 
 As commonly punctuated, v. 208 is inconsistent 
 with the view expressed by the Panther, who is 
 supposed to be maintaining the sincerity of Henry's 
 reforming zeal, and controverting the suggestion of 
 a personal motive, whereas, with a comma after 
 * I mean,' the Panther's case is given away. By 
 placing the comma after ' not,' 
 
 I mean not, till possessed of her he loved... 
 
The Religious Poems 169 
 
 the consistency of the Panther's tone is kept and 
 there is no break in the irony of the passage. 
 
 This part contains the finest passages of the 
 poem. Dryden's sufferings under obloquy were real 
 and severe ; the story of his distress ' even with 
 tears,' at the usage he had received in The Country 
 and the City Mouse , though probably apocryphal, 
 is representative of his sensitiveness to some kinds 
 of criticism. When the Hind resents on behalf of 
 her sons the imputation of Atheism, and yet will 
 not retort with personal satire, evidently the Hindi 
 speaks for Dryden, who did in the main abstain/^ 
 from personal venom. Many professed Anglicans^ 
 were an easy mark for satire — Burnet, satirised as 
 the Buzzard, had attacked Dryden — but he hits not 
 only his opponents but both sides, in a humorous 
 way. He here professes to disclaim revenge, or / 
 even self-defence, on religious grounds, accepting 
 the duties of sacrifice and of humility. Whether 
 this profession on his part is sincere or not, he gets 
 the note in the magnificent passage : — 
 
 Be vengeance wholly left to powers divine, 
 
 And let Heaven judge betwixt your sons and mine : 
 
 If joys hereafter must be purchas'd here 
 
 With loss of all that mortals hold so dear, 
 
 Then welcome infamy and public shame, 
 
 And last, a long farewell to worldly fame. 
 
 'Tis said with ease, but oh, how hardly tried 
 
 By haughty souls to human honour tied ! 
 
 O sharp convulsive pangs of agonizing pride ! 
 
 Down then, thou rebel, never more to rise; 
 
 And what thou did'st and dost so dearly prize. 
 
lyo The Religious Poems 
 
 That fame, that darling fame, make that thy sacrifice. 
 Tis nothing thou hast given; then add thy tears 
 For a long race of unrepenting years : 
 'Tis nothing yet, yet all thou hast to give: 
 Then add those may-be years thou hast to live : 
 Yet nothing still; then poor and naked come, 
 Thy Father will receive his unthrift home, 
 And thy blest Saviour's blood discharge the mighty sum. 
 
 (hi 279 ff.) 
 
 After an interesting passage on the present 
 balance of advantage between Roman Catholicism 
 and Anglicanism, too long to quote, he passes to 
 the episodes. 
 
 To these Dryden's Preface, not without reason, 
 calls attention. The Hind and the Panther each 
 tell a moral fable satirising the present policy of the 
 opponent. The Panther relates the tale of the 
 Swallows, who, deceived by fair weather out of 
 season and counting on its continuance, postponed 
 their departure and were destroyed by the prompt 
 return of winter. This is an obvious reference to 
 the sanguine hopes built by some (but not all) 
 Catholics on the forward policy of James. There 
 was a division of opinion on this subject in the 
 Catholic party. The Moderates would have been 
 content to better their position, so far as with the 
 King's help they could do so, within the limits of 
 English law ; the Forwards preferred to back the 
 King in his invasion of the Anglican barriers in 
 the existing Constitution, and to defy Parliament. 
 The fable of the Swallows, though of course assigned 
 
The Religious Poems 171 
 
 to the Anglican speaker, shows that Dryden, qua 
 Catholic, was a Moderate, and already, before the De- 
 claration of Indulgence, had deep mistrust of James. 
 The principal Forward was Father Petre, the 
 Jesuit, who ' among the evil counsellors ' of James 
 ' bore perhaps the largest part in the ruin of the 
 House of Stuart',' nobly born, ignorant of busi- 
 ness, presumptuous, and misunderstanding English 
 feeling. Dryden evidently disliked him profoundly. 
 He figures in the fable as the Martin, the chief 
 author of the advice by which the swallows are 
 ruined. Petre as a public man was a fair object of 
 criticism ; still probably neither he nor his partisans 
 were quite satisfied with Dryden's explanation (in 
 640-646) that the following sketch should be set 
 down to mere malice in the Panther. The young 
 swallows, discouraged by a gale, propose to put off 
 their migration : — 
 
 With these the Martin readily concurr'd, 
 
 A church-begot and church -believing bird ; 
 
 Of little body, but of lofty mind, 
 
 Round bellied, for a dignity designed. 
 
 And much a dunce, as Martins are by kind ; 
 
 Yet often quoted Canon-laws and Code 
 
 And Fathers which he never understood ; 
 
 But little learning needs in noble blood. 
 
 For, sooth to say, the Swallow brought him in 
 
 Her household chaplain and her next of kin : 
 
 In superstition silly to excess. 
 
 And casting schemes by planetary guess; 
 
 In fine, short-wing'd, unfit himself to fly, 
 
 His fear foretold foul weather in the sky. (ni 461 ff.) 
 
 ^ Macaulay's History^ Vol. 11. Ch. vi. 
 
172 The Religious Poems 
 
 The story of the Swallows is the best thing in 
 the poem. Of the temporary prosperity of the Court 
 Catholics, the most is made by the Irish among the 
 King's friends — Swifts in the fable. The lively and 
 picturesque prophecy of the catastrophe foreshows 
 the adapter of Chaucer and of Boccaccio, authors with 
 whom the concluding passage of the Preface shows 
 that he was already familiar. The whole passage 
 is too long to quote here ; the first few lines must 
 suffice : — 
 
 What should they do, beset with dangers round, 
 
 No neighbouring dorp, no lodging to be found, 
 
 But bleaky plains, and bare unhospitable ground? 
 
 The latter brood, who just began to fly, 
 
 Sick-feather'd and unpractis'd in the sky. 
 
 For succour to their helpless mother call : 
 
 She spread her wings ; some few beneath them crawl ; 
 
 She spread them wider yet, but could not cover all. 
 
 To augment their woes, the winds began to move 
 
 Debate in air for empty fields above, 
 
 Till Boreas got the skies, and pour'd amain 
 
 His rattling hailstones mix'd with snow and rain. 
 
 (in 610 fr.) 
 
 Some more politics follow, chiefly about the 
 Anglican Test, and we have some very smart 
 rhetoric from the Anglican on the Roman Catholic 
 notion of a fair division. The situation is compared 
 with the relations of Aeneas and Latinus in the 
 later books of the Aeneid. The Catholics, like the 
 Trojan invaders, plead their ancient rights, but any- 
 how bring their own gods : — 
 
 Methinks such terms of proffer'd peace you bring 
 As once Aeneas to the Italian king. 
 
The Religious Poems 173 
 
 By long possession all the land is mine ; 
 
 You strangers come with your intruding line 
 
 To share my sceptre, which you call to join. 
 
 You plead like him an ancient pedigree 
 
 And claim a peaceful seat by Fate's decree: 
 
 In ready pomp your sacrificer stands, 
 
 To unite the Trojan and the Latin bands . 
 
 And, that the league more firmly may be tied, 
 
 Demand the fair Lavinia for your bride. 
 
 Thus plausibly you veil the intended wrong, 
 
 But still you bring your exil'd gods along; 
 
 And will endeavour, in succeeding space, 
 
 Those household poppits on our hearths to place. 
 
 (ill 766 ff.) 
 
 Finally, the Panther proving impracticable on 
 the question of the Test, the Hind proposes to 
 relate the story of the Pigeons and their king the 
 Buzzard, satirising the recent move of the High 
 Church Anglicans — the Pigeons — towards the Lati- 
 tudinarians, the English Churchmen, that is, who 
 were indulgent to Dissenters. This attitude Dryden 
 represents as submission to the typical Latitudina- 
 rian, Burnet. The moral of the fable is that the 
 king Buzzard will do after his kind and plunder the 
 Pigeons more effectually than their supposed enemies 
 could do. The fiction is not happy ; the King (the 
 Farmer) keeps both Pigeons (Anglicans) and Poultry 
 (Catholics) and prefers the Poultry. The plain ob- 
 jection is that James did not eat Catholics ; yet this 
 is implied in his distaste for Pigeons' meat. The 
 analogy becomes grotesque when Dryden writes of 
 the Pigeons : — 
 
174 T^he Religious Poems 
 
 Their flesh was never to the table serv'd; 
 
 Though tis not thence inferr'd the birds were starv'd; 
 
 But that their master did not Hke the food, 
 
 As rank, and breeding melancholy blood. (in 974 ff.) 
 
 Nor does the Buzzard as a protector of Pigeons 
 well suit the alliance of the Higher Anglicans with 
 a Latitudinarian and semi-Presbyterian such as 
 Burnet. In the fable the Buzzard is brought to the 
 dovecote, but at the time when the poem was 
 written Burnet, who was hated by James, was in 
 exile at the Court of the Prince of Orange. Burnet, 
 who had spoken severely of Dryden, as indeed of 
 most people, is brilliantly described by Macaulay 
 in the second volume (chapter vii) of his History 
 of England', briefly, we may say that he was for- 
 ward, eloquent, indiscreet, honest, and pugnacious. 
 Dryden's satiric portrait (1140 ff.) is good but too 
 long ; only the spirited conclusion can be quoted 
 here : — 
 
 Prompt to assail, and careless of defence. 
 Invulnerable in his impudence, 
 He dares the world and, eager of a name, 
 He thrusts about and justles into fame. 
 Frontless and satire-proof, he scours the streets. 
 And runs an Indian muck at all he meets. 
 So fond of loud report, that not to miss 
 Of being known (his last and utmost bliss), 
 He rather would be known for what he is. 
 
 (m ii85ff.) 
 
 The Doves of course repent their invitation and are 
 said to lose credit and to suffer from their Presby- 
 terian director ; the reader may sympathise with the 
 Panther : — 
 
The Religious Poems 175 
 
 Thus did the gentle Hind her fable end, 
 
 Nor would the Panther blame it nor commend ; 
 
 But, with affected yawnings, at the close, 
 
 Seem'd to require her natural repose. (in 1289 ff.) 
 
 The strange poem ends, as it began, with 
 Dryden's softest music : — 
 
 For now the streaky light began to peep, 
 And setting stars admonish'd both to sleep. 
 The dame withdrew, and wishing to her guest 
 The peace of Heaven, betook herself to rest- 
 Ten thousand angels on her slumbers wait 
 With glorious visions of her future state, (in 1293 if.) 
 
VII 
 
 THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE ENGLISH 
 
 ODE; DRYDEN'S INFLUENCE ON 
 
 LYRIC POETRY 
 
 The word Ode Is used in English with a certain 
 vagueness, often only as an equivalent to Song. 
 The best known Odes of antiquity, from which is 
 derived the English use of the name, are those of 
 Horace and of Pindar, in particular the Epinikia, 
 or triumphal Odes, of Pindar. The term as applied 
 to English poetry is not easy to define ; it carries 
 with it a suggestion, though sometimes only a vague 
 suggestion, of a public or at least a solemn occasion. 
 Cowper's Boadicea, for instance, with its prophecy 
 of the British Empire that is to be, is certainly an 
 Ode; Scoix! s Rosabelle — *0 listen, listen, ladies gay* 
 — is as certainly not. Generally speaking it may be 
 said that in the case of an Ode a performance is 
 conceivable ; this definition is by no means adequate, 
 but it is sufficient for my present purpose. 
 
 The natural form of the English Ode in rhyme 
 has a stanza of some elaboration. A perfect example 
 is the Hymn in Milton's poem. On the Morning 
 of Christ's Nativity (begun in 1629 and published 
 
The Development of the English Ode 177 
 
 in 1645). Here performance is certainly conceiv- 
 able ; note the suggestion of processional movement 
 in the pause before the final swing : — 
 
 In consecrated earth, ^ 
 
 And on the holy hearth, ^•^' 
 The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint; 
 In urns, and altars round, O 
 
 A drear and dying sound ^ ^ 
 
 Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; "^ 
 And the chill marble seems to sweat, ^ 
 
 While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat. ^ 
 
 Peor and Baalim 
 Forsake their temples dim, 
 With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine; 
 And mooned Ashtaroth, 
 Heaven's queen and mother both, 
 Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine; 
 The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn; 
 In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn- 
 
 And sullen Moloch, fled, 
 Hath left in shadows dread 
 His burning idol all of blackest hue ; 
 In vain with cymbals' ring 
 They call the grisly king. 
 In dismal dance about the furnace blue; 
 The brutish gods of Nile as fast, 
 Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. 
 
 Nor is Osiris seen 
 In Memphian grove or green, 
 Trampling the unshower'd grass with lowings loud: 
 Nor can he be at rest 
 Within his sacred chest; 
 Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud; 
 In vain, with timbrel'd anthems dark, 
 The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipt ark. 
 
 V. D. 12 
 
1 78 The Development of the 
 
 In such a stanza as this there is room for varia- 
 tion of rhythmic detail, as is seen in the case of the 
 last line here quoted ; but the general form is most 
 important. Observe the simplicity of structure in 
 the stanza : the ear cannot miss the intended effect ; 
 the rhymes satisfy expectation. Without some 
 external assistance, such as is given by music or 
 dancing, the comprehensive power of the ear is not 
 very large. If the grasp is exceeded, the effect of 
 the stanza is missed, and the composition dissolves 
 into recitative with irregular rhymes, a form pos- 
 sibly legitimate, but totally different in character 
 and capacity. 
 
 The same principle applies to variety in the 
 length and rhythm of the verses within the stanza : 
 the ear must be able to grasp and retain the 
 scheme. In this respect, experiments of doubtful 
 success have been made even by good poets. It 
 is a question, for instance, whether the stanza of 
 Spenser's Epithalamion (1595) is not too long 
 for the ear to retain ; and if the structure is not 
 retained, the symmetry of the repeated scheme is 
 missed : — 
 
 Ye learned sisters, which have oftentimes 
 
 Beene to me ayding, others to adorne, 
 
 Whom ye thought worthy of your graceful! rymes, 
 
 That even the greatest did not greatly scorne 
 
 To heare theyr names sung in your simple layes, 
 
 But joyed in theyr praise : 
 
 And when ye list your owne mishaps to mourne, 
 
 Which death, or love, or fortune's wreck did rayse, 
 
 Your string could soone to sadder tenor turne, 
 
English Ode 179 
 
 And teach the woods and waters to lament 
 
 Your doleful! dreriment : 
 
 Now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside; 
 
 And having all your heads with girland crownd, 
 
 Helpe me mine owne love's prayses to resound; 
 
 Ne let the same of any be envide : 
 
 So Orpheus did for his owne bride, 
 
 So I unto my selfe alone will sing; 
 
 The woods shall to me answer, and my Eccho ring. 
 
 So also the irregular distribution of verses of 
 varying length is dangerous, as being not easily 
 followed. An illustration of this is found in Ran- 
 dolph's Ode to Master Anthony Stafford (about 
 1632) ; here the stanza itself is of no great length, 
 but the irregularity in length of the verses produces 
 a whole too complex to be easily retained by the 
 ear : — 
 
 Ours is the sky, 
 Where at what fowl we please our hawk shall fly : 
 
 Nor will we spare 
 To hunt the crafty fox or timorous hare; 
 But let our hounds run loose 
 In any ground they'll choose; 
 The buck shall fall, 
 The stag and all; 
 Our pleasures must from their own warrants be. 
 For to my Muse, if not to me, 
 I'm sure all game is free : 
 Heaven, earth, are all but parts of her great royalty. 
 
 Imitation of the ancients was the general prin- 
 ciple of the literature of the Renaissance, and that v 
 in lyric poetry imitation should be especially of the 
 Greek was the general assumption of English writers 
 in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. But in 
 
 12 — 2 
 
i8o The Development of the 
 
 y the revival and imitation of the Greek lyric, especi- 
 ally of Pindar's lyric, there was a peculiar pitfall. 
 In Greek Choric practice, music and the symmetrical 
 movements of a company of performers are essen- 
 tial ; the words are merely part of a larger whole. 
 In these conditions very elaborate structures are 
 admissible. By a strange error on the part of the 
 scholars of the Renaissance, Pindar was supposed to 
 be structureless, and to use an arbitrary metre which 
 in some vague way followed the sense. Possibly 
 this view derived encouragement from a misunder- 
 standing of Horace's description of Pindar's dithy- 
 rambs as numeris lege solutis [Carm. iv. 2. 11) 
 'measures that obey no law.' But these words of 
 Horace do not in any way imply absence of struc-^ 
 ture in Pindar's verse. Still, however we may 
 account for the mistaken impression, there it was, 
 and Pindar's * sublimity ' was supposed to depend 
 on this freedom. This was a prodigious error, for 
 Pindar's structure in respect of stanzas is peculiarly 
 severe. 
 
 The offspring of this error is the so-called 
 ' Pindaric ' poetry of the seventeenth and eighteenth 
 centuries, a recitative of forced irregularity both in 
 lengths of verse and distribution of rhyme. It was 
 thought that enough irregularity was ' sublime ' per 
 se, without regard to the value of single rhythms or 
 phrases, and the result of such a theory was floods 
 of nonsense. This subject has been amply discussed 
 and illustrated elsewhere, and a single illustration 
 will suffice here. Cowley is a typical, though 
 
English Ode i8i 
 
 moderate, example of a ' Pindaric* poet. His Ode 
 In Praise of Pindar, written about 1645, shows 
 the principle, though in a comparatively moderate 
 form : — 
 
 I 
 
 Pindar is imitable by none ; 
 
 The Phoenix Pindar is a vast species alone; 
 Whoe'er but Daedalus with waxen wings could fly 
 And neither sink too low, nor soar too high? 
 
 What could he who followed claim, ^, , 
 
 But of vain boldness the unhappy fame, •^ 
 
 And by his fall a sea to name? 
 Pindar's unnavigable song 
 Like a swoln flood from some steep mountain pours along; 
 
 The ocean meets with such a voice 
 From his enlarged mouth, as drowns the ocean's noise. 
 
 So runs the first stanza : the third I quoted in part 
 in my introductory lecture ; the fourth begins as 
 follows : — 
 
 IV 
 
 Lo, how the obsequious wind, and swelling air. 
 
 The Theban Swan does upward bear, 
 Into the walks of clouds, where he does play, 
 And with extended wings opens his liquid way;... 
 
 Then with intense relief, we find Cowley leaving 
 the Theban Swan in the skies, and subsiding into 
 metre and poetry : — 
 
 Whilst, alas, my timorous Muse 
 Unambitious tracks pursues. 
 Does with weak unballast wings, 
 About the mossy brooks and springs, 
 
1 82 The Development of the 
 
 About the trees' new-blossom'd heads, 
 About the garden's painted beds, 
 About the fields and flowery meads, 
 And all inferior beauteous things, 
 
 Like the laborious bee, 
 For little drops of honey flee, 
 And there with humble sweets contents her industry. 
 
 Cowley was a very able writer, but he combined 
 the ' Pindaric ' delusion with twists of the imagina- 
 tion — so-called 'conceits' — and with the unsifted 
 vocabulary and slack composition of the pre-Dryden 
 time. His Ode on Christ' s Passion (printed in 1663) 
 is nearly killed by these combined defects, but is 
 worth study for more than one reason. The last 
 stanza runs thus : — 
 
 Open, ah ! open wide the fountains of thine eyes, 
 And let them call 
 Their stock of moisture forth where'er it lies; 
 
 For this will ask it all; 
 'T would all, alas! too little be 
 Though thy salt tears come from a sea; 
 Canst thou deny Him this, when He 
 Has open'd all His vital springs for thee? 
 Take heed, for by His side's mysterious flood 
 May well be understood 
 That He will still require some waters to His blood. 
 
 All this is not to say that there may not be a 
 legitimate use of irregular rhyme, and even of ir- 
 regular rhyme combined with irregular verse, but 
 such composition will not be an Ode, or suggest 
 symmetrical music. It will be recitative, a 
 perilous and difficult form, of doubtful application and 
 very rare success, but the success when attained is 
 
English Ode 183 
 
 proportionately great. Of this form Lycidas is a 
 great example. In Lycidas the verse is almost 
 regular, almost uniform in its five accents. The oc- 
 casional half-lines are sometimes significant, though 
 often arbitrary ; the rhyme, though irregular, is so 
 interlaced as to draw the ear on in a wandering way. 
 These peculiarities of form answer to the very 
 peculiar character of the piece ; the youthful poet 
 disclaims finished art, or premeditation, and must do 
 his best : ' bitter constraint ' compels him ; ' denial ' 
 is 'vain'; *thus sang the uncouth swain... with eager 
 thought warbling his Doric lay.' There is no 
 audience for the singer of Lycidas ; the work is a 
 meditation for a poem. Is the art conscious or 
 instinctive ? 
 
 As with the form, so with the subject of the 
 poem. There is a similar laxity of control and we 
 have a digression on Fame (70 ff.), and another on 
 the state of the Church (i 14 ff ). To this treatment 
 of the subject and to the mood of the poet the lax 
 form corresponds, but Milton's Lycidas is a thing 
 not to be rashly imitated. 
 
 Milton's At a Solemn Musick is similar in prin- 
 ciple ; it is a silent meditation not addressed to 
 anyone, but exemplifying— as Lycidas does not — 
 the use of a change of rhythm to emphasise and 
 illustrate the thought. I quote the whole poem : — 
 
 Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy, 
 Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse, 
 Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ, 
 Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce; 
 
184 The Developme7tt of the 
 
 And to our high-rais'd phantasy present 
 
 That undisturbed song of pure concent, 
 
 Aye sung before the sapphire-colour'd throne 
 
 To Him that sits thereon, 
 
 With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee; 
 
 Where the bright Seraphim in burning row 
 
 Their loud up-lifted angel-trumpets blow; 
 
 And the cherubic host in thousand quires 
 
 Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, 
 
 With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms, 
 
 Hymns devout and holy psalms 15 
 
 Singing everlastingly : 
 
 That we on earth, with undiscording voice. 
 
 May rightly answer that melodious noise, 
 
 As once we did, till disproportion'd sin 
 
 Jarr'd against Nature's chime, and with harsh din 
 
 Broke the fair music that all creatures made 
 
 To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd 
 
 In perfect diapason, whilst they stood 
 
 In first obedience, and their state of good. 
 
 O, may we soon again renew that song. 
 
 And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long 
 
 To His celestial consort us unite, 
 
 To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light ! 
 
 There Is only one such touch in the poem, a very 
 delicate one : in vv. 15 and 16, the rhythm of church 
 music is recalled by the change of accentuation : — 
 
 Hymns devodt and holy psalms 
 Singing everlastingly. 
 
 The whole of this poem of Milton has been here 
 quoted, not only to exemplify my point of the effect 
 obtained by the single change of rhythm, but also 
 because, with that On the Morning of Chrisf s 
 
English Ode 185 
 
 Nativity, it gave a most important hint to Dryden 
 for his first Song for St Cecilia s Day. The world, 
 the cosmos, order, all is based on harmony, that is 
 to say, on Music. The thought is Platonic, but its 
 application to poetry, as well as the use of inten- 
 tional variation of rhythm, was suggested to Dryden 
 by Milton's work. Notice the coincidences of voca- 
 bulary : — 
 
 Milton. Dryden. 
 
 Jarr'd2i%2Xn%\.Nature^s<:^va\^... When Nature underneath a 
 
 heap Of jarring 3itoms lay... 
 In perfect diapason... The diapason closing full in 
 
 Man. 
 
 Other interesting comparisons between the poems 
 may be made. Milton, for instance, is much better 
 assured than Dryden both of present touch with 
 the Infinite and of ultimate union ; Milton dwells 
 on the happiness of the transition, Dryden on its 
 terror : — 
 
 So when the last and dreadful hour 
 This crumbling pageant shall devour, 
 The trumpet shall be heard on high, 
 The dead shall live, the living die, 
 And Music shall untune the sky. 
 
 This brief sketch of Dryden's predecessors shows 
 us what was the state of things on which he had to 
 work. In larger lyric his course was similar to that 
 which he took in the couplet: he instinctively avoids 
 extravagant mistakes, works out his principles by 
 common sense, and then suddenly — as with Absalom 
 and Ackitophel, so with the Song for St Cecilia s 
 
 J 
 
1 86 The Develop7nent of the 
 
 Day — seizes the occasion and goes straight to the 
 mark. 
 
 His earlier and 'Pindaric' work consists chiefly 
 of the Th7^enodia Angus talis, written on the death 
 of Charles II in 1685, and the Ode to the Pious 
 Memory of Mrs Anne Killigrew, published in 1686. 
 The Threnodia is more curious than beautiful, but 
 contains a most interesting passage on the literary 
 fertility and importance of the reign of Charles II, 
 with its importation of new models, its severer 
 standard of criticism, and its niggardly reward of 
 poets ; it is characteristic of Dryden not to omit 
 mention of this last point in his Laureate Funeral 
 Ode. Charles II, he says, came like spring with 
 birds from over sea ; the melodious passage (sec- 
 tion 13) offers perhaps the only instance of thought 
 confused to the point of unintelligibility which can 
 be found in Dryden's works : — 
 
 As when the new-born Phoenix takes his way 
 
 His rich paternal regions to survey, 
 
 Of airy choristers a numerous train 
 
 Attends his wondrous progress o'er the plain; 
 
 So rising from his father's urn, 
 
 So glorious did our Charles return ; 
 
 The officious Muses came along, 
 
 A gay harmonious quire, like angels ever young; 
 
 (The Muse that mourns him now his happy triumph sung) 
 
 Even they could thrive in his auspicious reign; 
 
 And such a plenteous crop they bore, 
 Of purest and well winnow'd grain 
 
 As Britain never knew before ; 
 Though little was their hire and light their gain. 
 Yet somewhat to their share he threw; 
 
English Ode 187 
 
 Fed from his hand, they sung and flew, 
 
 Like birds of Paradise that lived on morning dew. 
 
 The confusion of metaphors for the Muses is such 
 that the reader hesitates which of the alternative 
 meanings should be assigned to the word * crop ' ! 
 
 Dryden's Ode to the Pious Memory of Mrs 
 Anne Killigrew was published in 1686 as a Preface 
 to the poems of that lady. Anne Killigrew was an 
 accomplished young lady who practised landscape 
 painting as well as poetry, and was apparently very 
 free in her imagination : — 
 
 Her pencil drew whate'er her soul design'd, 
 
 And oft the happy draught surpass'd the image in her mind. 
 
 Subsequently she produced portraits of the king 
 and queen, James and Mary, and ' What next she 
 had design'd, Heaven only knows.' The Ode has 
 been praised perhaps beyond its merits from regard 
 to the first 'stanza,' if stanza it may be called, though 
 even this hardly deserves to be described as * the 
 richest complex of sounds in our language,' or in 
 Dr Johnson's words, as 'the noblest Ode that our 
 language ever produced ' : — 
 
 Thou youngest virgin-daughter of the skies, 
 Made in the last promotion of the blest ; 
 
 Whose palms, new pluck'd from Paradise, 
 
 In spreading branches more sublimely rise, 
 Rich with immortal green above the rest : 
 Whether, adopted to some neighbouring star. 
 
 Thou roU'st above us in thy wandering race, 
 Or in procession fix'd and regular 
 
 Mov'd with the Heaven's majestic pace. 
 
1 88 The Developjnent of the 
 
 Or call'd to more superior bliss, 
 Thou treadst with seraphims the vast abyss : 
 Whatever happy region be thy place, 
 Cease thy celestial song a little space; 
 Thou wilt have time enough for hymns divine, 
 Since Heaven's eternal year is thine. 
 Hear then a mortal Muse thy praise rehearse 
 
 In no ignoble verse, 
 But such as thy own voice did practise here. 
 When thy first fruits of poesy were given, 
 To make thyself a welcome inmate there; 
 
 While yet a young probationer, 
 And candidate of Heaven. 
 
 The effect of this section depends largely on its 
 skilful grammatical construction ; it forms practi- 
 cally one unbroken sentence. Moreover, the irre- 
 gularity of rhythm is turned to purpose in the short 
 line * In no ignoble verse.' On the other hand the 
 end — the last two lines — is weak. The general sub- 
 ject is not attractive ; it is clear that Dryden did not 
 really admire the lady's art. His rhythms, moreover, 
 are arbitrary and confused, though not ugly. Best 
 in substance and form taken together is the ninth 
 section, pace Scott who chooses it for special blame. 
 The lady had a brother in the Navy who, being at 
 sea, was for some time ignorant of her death. The 
 situation is a pathetic one ; the reader will remember 
 Tennyson's description of the similar but reversed 
 situation in In Memoriam, section vi : — 
 
 while thy head is bow'd. 
 
 His heavy-shotted hammock-shroud 
 Drops in his vast and wandering grave. 
 
English Ode 189 
 
 Dryden writes : — 
 
 Meantime, her warlike brother on the seas 
 His waving streamers to the winds displays, 
 And vows for his return with vain devotion pays. 
 Ah, generous youth ! that wish forbear, 
 The winds too soon will waft thee here ! 
 Slack all thy sails, and fear to come ; 
 Alas ! thou know'st not, thou art wreck'd at home. 7 
 
 No more shalt thou behold thy sisters face, 
 Thou hast already had her last embrace. 
 But look aloft, and if thou kenst from far, 
 Among the Pleiads, a new-kindled star, 
 If any sparkles than the rest more bright, 
 'Tis she that shines in that propitious light. 
 
 Scott objects to the introduction of the star : ' Our 
 emotion is quelled by the nature of the consolation 
 administered to a sea-captain, that his sister is turned 
 into a star.' This is an objection which Dryden 
 would have failed to understand. The association 
 of souls with stars, illustrated in the first section of 
 the poem — ' adopted to some neighbouring star ' — 
 is a classical commonplace, but classical romance 
 was dead to Scott. There is an instance of signi- 
 ficant variation of the rhythm in this section, where 
 the irregular and broken rhythm of the seventh line 
 disappoints the expectation raised by the three 
 smooth lines of octosyllabic verse immediately pre- 
 ceding. 
 
 The tenth and last section gives a version of 
 Dry den's favourite topic, the Day of Judgement, 
 and is interesting for the contrast which it offers to 
 his treatment of the same subject in the close of the 
 
190 The Development of the 
 
 Song for St Cecilia s Day, The version in the Ode 
 to the Pious Memory of Mrs Anne Killigrew is not 
 free from the grotesque: — 
 
 When in mid-air the golden trump shall sound, 
 
 To raise the nations under ground; 
 
 When in the Valley of Jehosophat 
 The judging God shall close the book of Fate, 
 
 And there the last assizes keep 
 
 For those who wake and those who sleep; 
 
 When rattling bones together fly 
 
 From the four corners of the sky; 
 When sinews o'er the skeletons are spread, 
 Those cloth'd with flesh, and life inspires the dead ; 
 The sacred poets first shall hear the sound. 
 And foremost from the tomb shall bound. 
 For they are cover'd with the lightest ground ; 
 And straight, with inborn vigour, on the wing. 
 Like mounting larks, to the new morning sing. 
 There thou, sweet saint, before the quire shalt go. 
 As harbinger of Heaven, the way to show. 
 The way which thou so well hast learn'd below. 
 
 In the fourth section there is a very interesting 
 autobiographical parenthesis, representing Dryden's 
 repentance for his profligation of the Muse : — 
 
 O gracious God ! how far have we 
 Profan'd thy heavenly gift of Poesy ! 
 Made prostitute and profligate the Muse, 
 Debas'd to each obscene and impious use, 
 Whose harmony was first ordain'd above, 
 For tongues of angels and for hymns of love ! 
 O wretched we ! why were we hurried down 
 
 This lubric and adulterate age, 
 (Nay, added fat pollutions of our own,) 
 
 To increase the steaming ordures of the stage? 
 
English Ode 191 
 
 The date of these lines should be noted. The 
 poem was published in 1686, twelve years before 
 Jeremy Colliers attack upon Dryden and at the 
 time of Dryden's full prosperity, when pretence of 
 any kind was not necessary. Dryden's attitude and 
 behaviour about this subject was never consistent, 
 but his repentance is not a mere fiction. 
 
 If then we are to summarise the lyrical situation 
 in 1686, we may say that it was utterly confused, 
 and that Dryden was no better grounded than others, 
 but was feeling his way. The way was found — 
 found suddenly, and the arrival at the end announced 
 the next year by the production of A Song for 
 St Cecilids Day. The occasion was the annual 
 performance of a musical society on November 22, 
 the festival of St Cecilia, who was the inventress of 
 the organ and the patroness of music. The poetic 
 products of the first years after the foundation of 
 this society were not noticeable, but in 1687 the 
 audience was provided with this : — 
 
 I 
 
 From harmony, from heavenly harmony 
 This universal frame began ; 
 When Nature underneath a heap 
 
 Of jarring atoms lay, 
 And could not heave her head, 
 The tuneful voice was heard from high, 
 
 Arise, ye more than dead. 
 Then cold and hot and moist and dry 
 In order to their stations leap, 
 And Music's power obey. 
 
192 The Development of the 
 
 From harmony, from heavenly harmony 
 
 This universal frame began : 
 
 From harmony to harmony 
 Through all the compass of the notes it ran, 
 The diapason closing full in Man. 
 
 II 
 
 What passion cannot Music raise and quell? 
 When Jubal struck the chorded shell 
 His listening brethren stood around, 
 And, wondering, on their faces fell 
 To worship that celestial sound : 
 Less than a god they thought there could not dwell 
 Within the hollow of that shell, 
 That spoke so sweetly, and so well. 
 What passion cannot Music raise and quell? 
 
 Ill 
 
 The trumpet's loud clangor 
 
 Excites us to arms 
 With shrill notes of anger 
 
 And mortal alarms. 
 The double double double beat 
 
 Of the thundering drum 
 Cries, hark ! the foes come ; 
 Charge, charge, 'tis too late to retreat. 
 
 IV 
 
 The soft complaining flute 
 In dying notes discovers 
 The woes of hopeless lovers. 
 Whose dirge is whisper'd by the warbling lute. 
 
 V 
 
 Sharp violins proclaim 
 Their jealous pangs and desperation, 
 Fury, frantic indignation, 
 Depth of pains and height of passion. 
 
 For the fair, disdainful dame. 
 
English Ode 193 
 
 VI 
 
 But oh ! what art can teach, 
 What human voice can reach 
 The sacred organ's praise? 
 Notes inspiring holy love, 
 Notes that wing their heavenly ways 
 To mend the choirs above. 
 
 VII 
 
 Orpheus could lead the savage race, 
 And trees unrooted left their place, 
 
 Sequacious of the lyre; 
 But bright Cecilia rais'd the wonder higher: 
 When to her organ vocal breath was given, 
 An angel heard, and straight appear'd 
 
 Mistaking earth for heaven. 
 
 Grand Chorus 
 
 As from the power of sacred lays 
 
 The spheres began to move. 
 And sung the great Creator's praise 
 
 To all the blest above ; 
 So when the last and dreadful hour 
 This crumbling pageant shall devour, 
 The trumpet shall be heard on high, 
 The dead shall live, the living die. 
 And Music shall untune the sky. 
 
 Of the connexion of the general scheme of this 
 poem with Milton's poems At a Solemn Mustek and 
 On the Morning of Christ's Nativity y I have already 
 spoken. The passage on the function of Music in 
 the latter is as follows : — 
 
 Such music (as 'tis said) 
 Before was never made, 
 V. D. 13 
 
194 The Developifient of the 
 
 But when of old the sons of morning sung, 
 While the Creator great 
 His constellations set, 
 And the well-balanc't world on hinges hung; 
 And cast the dark foundations deep. 
 And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep. 
 
 The theory of both Milton and Dryden is that the 
 world was created, and is held together, by harmony 
 — that is, proportion — and that man, the microcosm, 
 is a summary of creation, responsive to all rhythms. 
 The world hereafter is to be resolved not into 
 Chaos but into another and a better music. Dryden 
 touches this subject with great awe, herein -pre- 
 senting ^ striking contrast with the attitude of 
 Milton; 
 
 The essential merit of Dryden's poem is that he 
 has seized the principle that variations of rhythm, if 
 not echoed and repeated — as they are in a poem 
 composed of stanzas — can have value only so far as 
 they illustrate the sense ; otherwise they are mere 
 licences. This principle is not only grasped but, by 
 the peculiar felicity of the occasion, it is perfectly 
 realised ; the theme, the power of music, allows the 
 illustrations of sense by rhythm to be everywhere 
 explicit. 
 
 To come to details, and consider some of the 
 sections : — 
 
 * Pindaric' verse is not really appropriate to any- 
 thing except Chaos, and the structure of the opening 
 section is a sort of jest upon this point ; for harmony 
 — the actual word ' harmony ' — brings the delayed 
 
English Ode 195 
 
 rhyme. The first two rhymes of the section, ' harmony ' 
 and 'began,' are left suspended — for there is no true 
 rhyme to * harmony ' in ' high ' and ' dry ' — while all 
 the irregularly accented lines that follow one after 
 another find their re-echoing rhymes. Only with 
 the repetition of the two opening lines is the 
 expectant ear fully satisfied. 
 
 In the fifth section, with his imitation of the 
 violin, Dryden shows his supreme technical skill. 
 The rhythmical effect is apt to be spoilt by too close 
 an observance of the conventional division of the 
 lines. 
 
 There is an obvious difificulty in differentiating 
 the organ from other musical instruments, but Dryden 
 gets a point and suggests the echo of the more 
 remote pipes by the repetition of the word 'notes' 
 and the recurrence of similar sounds in verses 4 
 and 5:— 
 
 Notes inspiring holy love 
 Notes that wing their heavenly ways... 
 
 In the first half of the seventh section, intro- 
 ducing the legend of Cecilia and the angel, we have 
 an abrupt change of language, felt in 'savage race,' 
 — here used not of men, but in the Latin sense of 
 'wild beasts'^ — and strongly emphasised in the 
 Latinism ' sequacious of.' There is a touch of re- 
 serve, almost of humour, in Dryden's association of 
 the two legends of Orpheus and St Cecilia. 
 
 ^ Cf. Lucretius v 967 'siluestria saecla ferarum,' and Virgil 
 Georgic 11 374 'siluestres uri...capreaeque sequaces.' 
 
 13—2 
 
196 The Development of the 
 
 With the Grand Chorus we return to plain lan- 
 guage and to the solemnity of ' Common Metre,' 
 alternate lines of eight and six syllables. The Day 
 of Judgement, a favourite subject with Dryden, here 
 finds its most successful treatment. 
 
 Ten years later, in 1697, on a similar occasion, 
 Dryden applied the same principle again in Alex- 
 ander s Feast ; or, The Power of Music, A series of 
 different musical effects as afifecting and representing 
 different passions was now by an extremely happy 
 invention applied to a story. The story chosen 
 rests on a slight historical foundation, the burning 
 of the great Persian temple by Alexander and his 
 companions under the excitement of a banquet. 
 Dryden supposes Alexander to be led up to this 
 action, through a chain of varied emotions, by the 
 power of the musician Timotheus ; and under the 
 alternate stimulus and enfeeblement of wine the 
 rapid changes required for Dryden's technical pur- 
 pose are at least conceivable. 
 
 The poem is almost too familiar for comment; 
 yet misunderstandings, or at least different under- 
 standings, of its metrical effects are certainly possible. 
 Take for instance Young s Essay On Lyric Poetry, 
 which he illustrates by two compositions of his own, 
 Ocean; an Ode, and an introductory Ode to the 
 King. The Essay is a feeble performance hardly 
 deserving criticism, but a point of interest is in the 
 following words : — 
 
 I think Mr Dryden's Ode on St Cecilia's Day [by which 
 he means the second ode, Alexander's Feast] inferior to no 
 
English Ode 197 
 
 composition of this kind. Its chief beauty consists in 
 
 adapting the numbers [that is, the metre] most happily to 
 
 the variety of the occasion. Those by which he has chosen 
 to express majesty, (viz.) 
 
 Assumes the god, 
 Affects to nod, 
 And seems to shake the spheres, 
 
 are chosen in the following ode [Young's own Ode to Ocean\, 
 because the subject of it is great... 
 
 and similarly in the Ode to the King Young chooses 
 the same metre, presumably for the same purpose. 
 Young then, it is clear, takes Dryden in the passage 
 which he quotes from A lexandef^' s Feast to intend 
 and to express true sublimity ; here is the result of 
 this assumption : — 
 
 When rushes forth 
 
 The frowning north 
 On black'ning billows, with what dread 
 
 My shuddering soul 
 
 Beholds them roll. 
 And hears their roarings o'er my head ! 
 
 With terror mark 
 
 Yon flying bark ! 
 Now centre-deep descend the brave ; 
 
 Now, toss'd on high 
 
 It takes the sky, 
 A feather on the tow'ring wave ! 
 * * * * 
 
 All ether burns ! 
 
 Chaos returns ! 
 And blends, once more, the seas and skies : 
 
 No space between 
 
 Thy bosom green, 
 O deep I and the blue concave, lies. 
 
198 The Development of the 
 
 Or again, speaking of the bottom of the sea : — 
 
 In chambers deep, 
 
 Where waters sleep, 
 What unknown treasures pave the floor ! 
 
 The pearl, in rows, 
 
 Pale lustre throws ; 
 The wealth immense, which storms devour 
 
 These lines are of course faulty in all respects, 
 conceptions, phrasing, grammar, but surely the metre 
 is also absurdly inappropriate : the jigging move- 
 ment is inconsistent with gravity and dignity. Young 
 would make Dryden his authority for the choice 
 the metre is, he says, that * by which Dryden has 
 chosen to express majesty.' But is this so '^. Let 
 us go to Dryden's own version and see the situation. 
 Timotheus with the help of the audience twists 
 Alexander about, leads him a dance, not without a 
 certain sly malice, and recounts the legend of his 
 divine parentage. The King and the company are 
 in the right mood for the fable : — 
 
 The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, 
 
 A present deity, they shout around; 
 
 A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound : 
 
 With ravish'd ears 
 
 The monarch hears, 
 
 Assumes the god. 
 
 Affects to nod. 
 And seems to shake the spheres. 
 
 This see-saw surely does not express majesty, true 
 dignity, but mock majesty, the self-complacency of 
 the drop too much. To justify Young's use of 
 Dryden's metre in his Ode to the King, one must 
 
English Ode 199 
 
 suppose George II prepared for the poem as Alex- 
 ander was prepared for the song of Timotheus ; 
 sober, he would hardly be uplifted by this : — 
 
 At his proud foot 
 
 The sea, pour'd out, 
 Immortal nourishment supplies; 
 
 Thence wealth and state, 
 
 And power and fate, 
 Which Europe reads in George's eyes. 
 
 From what we view, 
 
 We take the clue, 
 Which leads from great to greater things : 
 
 Men doubt no more, 
 
 But gods adore, 
 When such resemblance shines in kings. 
 
 Scepticism, we learn, is to be cured by observing 
 the living reflexion of the deity in George II. This 
 is what Young makes out of Dryden's humorous 
 treatment of the Pagan fable, that in Alexander 
 Jove * stamped an image of himself ; for a Christian 
 divine the flight is remarkable. After all, the metre 
 is perhaps not so inappropriate, but one is disposed 
 to pardon George for his contempt of ' bainting and 
 boetry.' 
 
 These verses are quoted from no desire to 
 depreciate Young, a real poet in his proper vein ; 
 but just because of his genius, his blunder proves 
 that to acquire a true judgement of rhythm we may 
 need some pains and possibly some mutual help. 
 Hence the suggestions offered in the following 
 detailed comments on a few points in Alexander s 
 Feast, 
 
200 The DeveIop77ient of the 
 
 Twis at the royal feast for Persia won 
 By Philip's wariike son : 
 Aloft in awful state 
 The godlike hero sate 
 
 On his imperial throne ; 
 His Taliant peers were plac'd around; 
 Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound: 
 
 (So should desert in arms be crown'd.) 
 The lovely Thais, by his side. 
 Sate like a blooming Eastern bride, 
 In flower of youth and beauty's pride. 
 Happy, happy, happy pair, 
 None but the brave, 
 None but the brave. 
 None but the brave deserves the fair. 
 
 In the opening line *the royal feast for Persia 
 won * there is a dangerous Latin ism, for the unob- 
 servant reader may think that it was the feast and 
 not Persia that was won. This section illustrates 
 the tendency to simple grouping, a tendency which 
 becomes important in the work of Gray, but is not 
 yet fixed in Dryden's case. Here the grouping is 
 in triplets ; there are first two sets of triple rhymes, 
 * around, bound, crown'd,' and ' side, bride, pride ' — 
 followed by the triple repetition of the word 'happy' 
 and of the phrase * none but the brave/ 
 
 The rhythm of the second section Ls rather con- 
 ftLsed, but the approach of Bacchus in the third \s 
 accompanied by a definite rhythmical effect pro- 
 duced by a series of lines of a successively diminish- 
 ing number of accents (one of six, one of five, etc.). 
 
35ie isain;: 
 
 ft: 
 
 ^le 
 
 Kobe 
 
 Ut 
 
 St 
 
 ^sWj, as ia lis 
 the 
 
 afTdK 
 
 ■s 
 
202 The Development of the 
 
 The story that this Ode was * finished at a 
 sitting ' rests on no good authority and I take leave 
 to doubt its accuracy. 
 
 Probably neither Dryden's audience, nor Dryden 
 himself, fully understood the step that had been 
 taken ; certainly Dryden himself did not maintain 
 it. The death of Purcell, the musician, in 1695 
 produced two Odes : one, Mulgrave's, is a feeble 
 and amateur performance, and the other, Dryden's 
 own, written for a musical setting two years before 
 the second Ode for St Cecilia's Day, presents an 
 odd mixture of novel merits and old errors. The 
 rhythms are confused, the changes being mostly 
 without meaning. But there is one exquisite line 
 in his latest style, the concluding line of the first 
 section : — 
 
 Mark how the lark and linnet sing : 
 
 With rival notes 
 They strain their warbling throats 
 
 To welcome in the spring. 
 
 But in the close of night, 
 When Philomel begins her heavenly lay, 
 
 They cease their mutual spite, 
 
 Drink in her music with delight. 
 And listening and silent, silent and listening, listening and 
 silent, obey. 
 
 The natural history is dubious, but the picture ex- 
 quisite. The rest of the Ode is rubbish : Purcell 
 cannot be in hell, for the devils will not permit it : — 
 
 The power of harmony too well they knew ; 
 He long ere this had tun'd their jarring sphere, 
 And left no Hell below. 
 
English Ode 203 
 
 The third section is even worse. It begins with 
 a pun on the word scale, 'ladder,' as applied to 
 music : — 
 
 The heavenly choir, who heard his notes from high, 
 Let down the scale of music from the sky 
 
 and goes on to assure us that all other musicians are 
 safe from heavenly depredations, for now that the 
 gods have got the best they will be content. In 
 fact the death of Purcell is regarded aS a sort of 
 rape of Ganymede, a conceit quite in the old style 
 of the days of Charles I. 
 
 In the eighteenth century elaborate lyric a- 
 bounded, but made little progress, so that Gray, 
 essaying the Pindaric Ode in 1754, can suggest that 
 the '^olian lyre' has slept since Dryden's death: — 
 
 Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car 
 Wide o'er the fields of glory bear 
 Two coursers of ethereal race, 
 With necks in thunder cloth'd, and long resounding pace. 
 
 Hark, his hands the lyre explore ! 
 
 Bright-ey'd Fancy, hovering o'er, 
 
 Scatters from her pictur'd urn 
 
 Thoughts that breathe and words that burn. 
 
 But ah 'tis heard no more — 
 
 O lyre divine, what daring spirit 
 Wakes thee now? 
 
 Akenside might very well represent the ' sleep ' 
 of the lyre ; his productions are mostly mere rhetoric. 
 But Akenside and Gray were considerable scholars 
 and they introduced into English lyric the new and 
 
204 The Development of the 
 
 true Pindaric form of Ode, containing strophe, anti- 
 strophe, and epode. In this strict Pindaric form Gray 
 wrote the Progress of Poesy and The Bard, but the 
 form itself is of doubtful importance in English poetry. 
 Gray avowedly builds on Dryden ; he takes up 
 the principle, visible, as we have seen, in parts of 
 Alexander s Feast, of commending a long stanza to 
 the ear by subdividing it into sections, each section 
 being in itself simple and regular. This principle is 
 shown plainly in Gray's Ode on the Spring, a work 
 slight and of little intrinsic value. This poem, written 
 in 1742, is not of the Pindaric type; it consists of six 
 similar stanzas of ten lines, these ten lines being 
 divided into groups of four and six lines respectively, 
 so that the rhythms and rhymes are easily followed 
 and remembered by the ear ; thus : — 
 
 Lo ! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours, 
 
 Fair Venus' train, appear, 
 Disclose the long-expecting flowers, 
 
 And wake the purple year ! 
 The Attic warbler pours her throat. 
 Responsive to the cuckoo's note, 
 
 The untaught harmony of Spring; 
 While, whispering pleasure as they fly, 
 Cool Zephyrs through the clear blue sky 
 
 Their gather'd fragrance fling. 
 
 The more complicated arrangement in The Pro- 
 gress of Poesy is worth analysis. The first stanza 
 runs as follows : — 
 
 Awake, ^olian lyre, awake, 
 
 And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. 
 
 From Helicon's harmonious springs 
 A thousand rills their mazy progress take ; 
 
English Ode 205 
 
 The laughing flow'rs, that round them blow, 
 Drink life and fragrance as they flow. 
 Now the rich stream of music winds along, 
 Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong. 
 Through verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign ; 
 Now rolling down the steep amain. 
 Headlong, impetuous, see it pour: 
 The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar. 
 
 To this 'strophe,' the second stanza, the 'anti- 
 strophe,' corresponds. The structure is simple ; the 
 arrangement of rhymes is easily followed, and there 
 is little variety in the rhythms. There is more 
 variety of rhythm in the epode (13) where a mass 
 in short metre (11 lines) is followed by a mass in 
 long metre. Note carefully that this transition is in 
 all the three epodes (i 3, 11 3, iii 3) strictly adapted 
 to an important transition in the sense, and also that 
 in I 3 it expresses a musical change, just as the 
 change of rhythm does in Dryden's first Song for 
 St Cecilia s Day. The metre, like the music, changes 
 when, after the Loves have been 'frisking light in 
 frolic measures,' 
 
 Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare. 
 
 Thee, the voice, the dance, obey, 
 
 Temper'd to thy warbled lay. 
 
 O'er Idalia's velvet-green 
 
 The rosy-crowned Loves are seen 
 
 On Cytherea's day 
 
 With antic Sports and blue-eyed Pleasures, 
 
 Frisking light in frolic measures; 
 
2o6 The Developme7tt of the 
 
 Now pursuing, now retreating, 
 
 Now in circling troops they meet : 
 To brisk notes in cadence beating, 
 
 Glance their many-twinkling feet. 
 
 Then come the longer Hnes : — 
 
 Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare ; 
 
 Where'er she turns, the Graces homage pay. 
 With arms sublime, that float upon the air. 
 
 In gliding state she wins her easy way : 
 O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move 
 The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love. 
 
 Many other similar observations on the technical 
 merits of this poem might be made, but we must 
 not digress far, only calling attention to the variation 
 in Gray's treatment of the three-accented verse 
 which makes the fifth line in each epode : — 
 
 On Cytherea's day — (15) 
 
 In lingering labyrinths creep — (n 5) 
 
 But ah ! 'tis heard no more. (in 5) 
 
 Gray's exquisite phrasing passes off much auda- 
 city, not to say nonsense. Thus there is a double 
 conception of the subject : Poetry is a universal 
 consolation — a view represented in 11 i, 'Say, has 
 he given in vain the heavenly Muse,' and Poetry is 
 also an occasional effulgence : in 11 2 we slide from 
 one conception to the other. His 'history' again 
 is absurd ; there are, we learn, three poetic periods, 
 the Greek, succeeded by the Roman, which, in its 
 
English Ode 207 
 
 turn is succeeded by the English ; and this last 
 apparently begins with Shakespeare : — 
 
 Till the sad Nine, in Greece's evil hour, 
 
 Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains. 
 Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power, 
 
 And coward Vice, that revels in her chains. 
 When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, 
 They sought, O Albion ! next thy sea-encircled coast. 
 
 Hence the Ode as a whole disappoints hopes raised 
 by familiar quotations, such as the description of 
 the mythical Shakespeare, 'Nature's Darling' (iii i), 
 which immediately follows. 
 
 The Pindaric Ode is far better managed in The 
 Bard. The problem here was to rival Alexander s 
 Feast by fitting successive phases of music to the 
 stages of a story. Gray's solution is ingenious. 
 A Welsh bard, escaped from massacre, prophetically 
 chants from a safe rock a series of Plantagenet 
 disasters in defiance of Edward I, hails the Tudors 
 as Welsh and native, and then flings himself into 
 the river below. 
 
 The subdivision of the stanzas is more clearly 
 defined than in The Progress of Poesy, and is most 
 important. The strophe (and of course the corre- 
 sponding antistrophe) has two main divisions sharply 
 marked by metre, and each of these is further sub- 
 divided. It is the same with the epode. This 
 system of divisions fits admirably the passage from 
 vision to vision in prophecy ; such brevity as Gray 
 gives us would hardly otherwise be possible. Take 
 for instance the three first sub-stanzas in 11 3, re- 
 
2o8 The Development of the 
 
 spectively consisting of six, four, and four lines, 
 
 representing {a) the death of Richard II, (b) the 
 
 Wars of the Roses, {c) Henry VI and the end of 
 the Lancastrians. 
 
 n 3 
 
 {a) Fill high the sparkling bowl, 
 The rich repast prepare, 
 
 Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast; 
 Close by the regal chair 
 
 Fell Thirst and Famine scowl 
 A baleful smile upon their baffled guest. 
 {b) Heard ye the din of battle bray, 
 
 Lance to lance, and horse to horse? 
 Long years of havock urge their destin'd course. 
 And through the kindred squadrons mow their way. 
 {c) Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, 
 With many a foul and midnight murder fed. 
 
 Revere his Consort's faith, his father's fame. 
 And spare the meek usurper's holy head. 
 
 Or again take the subdivisions in in i, where the 
 third subdivision, at a point where the ear has now 
 been led to expect change, introduces the prophecy 
 of the coming Tudors : — 
 
 III I 
 
 Edward, lo ! to sudden fate 
 (Weave we the woof. The thread is spun.) 
 
 Half of thy heart we consecrate. 
 (The web is wove. The work is done.) 
 Stay, oh stay ! nor thus forlorn 
 I^ave me unbless'd, unpiti'd, here to mourn : 
 In yon bright track, that fires the western skies, 
 They melt, they vanish from my eyes. 
 
English Ode 209 
 
 Then, with the change of metre : — 
 
 But oh ! what solemn scenes on Snowdon's height 
 Descending slow their glittering skirts unroll? 
 
 Visions of glory, spare my aching sight ! 
 Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul I 
 
 No more our long-lost Arthur we bewail. 
 All hail, ye genuine kings, Britannia's issue, hail ! 
 
 Gray's style is totally different from Dryden's ; 
 it is much more artificial, sometimes even artificial 
 beyond the permitted limit — as, for instance, when 
 he writes : ' Is the sable warrior fled ?' But in the 
 arrangement of sentences, the straightforward order, 
 he is strongly influenced by Dryden, and so also in 
 the rich use of plain words, such words as, in the 
 last six lines quoted, skirts^ aching, crowd. 
 
 In Collins's Ode on the Passions (published 1747) 
 we have a manifest revival in a different form of the 
 idea of Dryden's first Song for St Cecilia! s Day ; 
 instead of the varied rhythms illustrating types of 
 music which raise this or that passion, we have the 
 passions themselves as persons — Despair, Hope, 
 Fear, etc., each giving a characteristic musical per- 
 formance. Hope, for instance, is interrupted by 
 Revenge : — 
 
 And longer had she sung; — but with a frown, 
 
 Revenge impatient rose : 
 He threw his blood-stain'd sword in thunder down ; 
 
 And with a withering look. 
 
 The war-denouncing trumpet took, 
 And blew a blast so loud and dread, 
 Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe ! 
 
 And ever and anon he beat 
 
 The doubling drum with furious heat; 
 V. D. 14 
 
2IO The Development of the 
 
 And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, 
 Dejected Pity, at his side, 
 Her soul-subduing voice applied, 
 Yet still he kept his wild unalter'd mien, 
 While each strain'd ball of sight seemed bursting from his 
 head. 
 
 Collins's variations are very good though hardly 
 equal to Dryden's best. His poem contains an 
 allusion to Dryden ; Greek music and poetry in 
 their varied simplicity rivalled — or rather, Collins 
 says, surpassed — even Cecilia's Organ. Addressing 
 Music, he asks why she has laid aside her ancient 
 lyre : — 
 
 'Tis said, and I believe the tale, 
 Thy humblest reed could more prevail, 
 Had more of strength, diviner rage. 
 Than all which charms this laggard age; 
 E'en all at once together found, 
 Cecilia's mingled world of sound. 
 
 Collins would revive this Greek art, but does not 
 seem to realise the nature of the model or the diffi- 
 culties of imitation. Still, when all is said, The 
 Passions is a very fine poem, though not exactly an 
 Ode — and it counts to Dryden. 
 
 All these poems, of which I have spoken, and 
 some later poetry — for instance, much of Swin- 
 burne's — depend on adaptation of metrical variation 
 to variations in sense. But there is a legitimate field, 
 though the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries 
 did not find it, for irregular and wandering metre, 
 merely as such, and apart from the significance 
 
English Ode 2 1 1 
 
 of variations ; such metre properly expresses A 
 reverie, thought, not addressed to an audience but / 
 as it were overheard. The leading example is 
 Wordsworth's so-called Ode, Intimations of Im- 
 mortality from. Recollections of Early Childhood, 
 — not an ode at all according to our definition. 
 Performance is inconceivable ; the irregularity of 
 the metre, which in places is almost wild, suggests 
 private thought in a natural undress. It is inter- 
 esting to note that Professor J ebb, whose fineness 
 of touch, sure dexterity, and exact comprehension 
 are nowhere better shown than in his rendering of 
 this piece, so little felt the variations in rhythm as 
 essential to the poem that he translated the whole 
 into Greek hexameters, a thing impossible in the 
 case of such a poem as Gray's The Bard. But that 
 metrical irregularity on the whole pleases cannot 
 always be said. In section vii, for instance, of this 
 poem, after describing the fondness of children for 
 imitating and acting, Wordsworth represents the 
 temporary denizen of this world as amusing him- 
 self with his part. Here the irregularity is to my 
 ^ar not pleasing : — 
 
 See, at his feet, some little plan or chart. 
 Some fragment from his dream of human life, 
 Shap'd by himself with newly-learned art ; 
 A wedding or a festival, 
 A mourning or a funeral; 
 
 And this hath now his heart. 
 And unto this he frames his song : 
 Then will he fit his tongue 
 To dialogues of business, love or strife ; 
 
 14—2 
 
212 The Development of the 
 
 But it will not be long 
 Ere this be thrown aside, 
 And with new joy and pride 
 The little Actor cons another part ; 
 
 It may be suggested that the changes of metre 
 represent the vagrant fancy of the ' little Actor ' ; 
 this idea however will not work out in detail, and 
 to me the general effect seems of questionable 
 success. 
 
 But on the whole the wandering measure of the 
 poem is suitable to a reverie overheard. Words- 
 worth, however, seems to feel, and to feel with 
 reason, that some definitely musical effects, some 
 appropriate rhythms, should be sought, especially 
 in the reverie of a poet. He has achieved this with 
 a skill which in this kind he shows nowhere else. 
 That skill he learnt from Dryden, whom he admired 
 in spite of differences and repulsions. The following 
 lines, from the third section, might in form be taken 
 from Dryden : — 
 
 And all the earth is gay; 
 Land and sea 
 Give themselves up to jollity, 
 And with the heart of May 
 Doth every Beast keep holiday ! 
 Thou Child of Joy, 
 Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd- 
 boy ! 
 
 In section iv the rhythmical effects are not very 
 well managed, but in section v (' Our birth is but a 
 sleep and a forgetting '), where the note of reverie is 
 important, there is one admirable rhythmic effect. 
 
English Ode 213 
 
 the gay march introduced in the third and fourth 
 lines of the following : — 
 
 The Youth, who daily farther from the east 
 Must travel, still is Nature's Priest, 
 
 And by the vision splendid 3 
 
 Is on his way attended ; 4 
 
 At length the Man perceives it die away, 
 And fade into the light of common day. 
 
 But it is in the ninth section that the culminating 
 passage is found : — 
 
 But for those first affections. 
 Those shadowy recollections. 
 
 Which, be they what they may. 
 Are yet the fountain light of all our day, 
 Are yet a master light of all our seeing ; 
 
 Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make 
 Our noisy years seem moments in the being 
 Of the eternal Silence : truths that wake, 
 
 To perish never ; 
 Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, 
 
 Nor Man nor Boy, 
 Nor all that is at enmity with joy. 
 Can utterly abolish or destroy ! 
 
 Note here the debatable phrase ' nor Man nor Boy,' 
 which is hardly sense, and note too how the passion 
 grasps after strong language. Dryden, given the 
 thought, might have written just so, and may there- 
 fore have influenced the glorious music which 
 follows : — 
 
 Hence in a season of calm weather, 
 Though inland far we be, 
 Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea 
 
214 The Development of the 
 
 Which brought us hither, 
 Can in a moment travel thither, 
 And see the Children sport upon the shore, 
 And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore. 
 
 Coleridge's elaborate lyrics have perhaps been 
 over-praised ; in his ode to France, for instance, the 
 stanzas are complicated beyond comprehension. 
 
 In the nineteenth century, the 'Pindaric' Ode 
 in its loose form produced little poetry of merit. 
 Tennyson's Ode on the Death of the Duke of 
 Wellington contains many fine sentences, but often 
 falls flat. Tennyson wanted more bracing than is 
 given by the loose form here used. A curious 
 musical experiment is tried in section in, but it is 
 to my ear not satisfactory : — 
 
 Lead out the pageant: sad and slow, 
 
 As fits an universal woe. 
 
 Let the long long procession go, 
 
 And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow, 
 
 And let the mournful martial music blow ; 
 
 The last great Englishman is low. 
 
 But irregular verse as a form of meditation has had 
 important descendants. Tennyson's Maud, as ' a 
 monodrama,' is in one sense all meditation, and in 
 the more passionate and intimate parts irregular 
 verse with careful attention to musical effects is 
 worked admirably. A few brief indications must 
 here suffice. Thus, to take Part I only, in v i, 'A 
 voice by the cedar-tree,' note how the lover falls 
 into the rhythm of the lady's song heard in the 
 distance : — 
 
English Ode 215 
 
 Singing of men that in battle array, 
 Ready in heart and ready in hand, 
 March with banner and bugle and fife 
 To the death, for their native land. 
 
 and the rest of this division repays careful ex- 
 amination of the rhythmical effects. So too does 
 VI 3, and again note how the rhythm follows the 
 description in ix of the glimpse and disappearance 
 of Maud as she rides past and waves her hand : — 
 
 Down by the hill I saw them ride, 
 In a moment they were gone : 
 Like a sudden spark 
 Struck vainly in the night, 
 Then returns the dark 
 With no more hope of light. 
 
 The plain vigour combined with dignity of these 
 last four lines would have delighted Dryden. Nor 
 must I omit the dance music of xvii : — 
 
 Till the red man dance 
 By his red cedar-tree. 
 And the red man's babe 
 Leap, beyond the sea. 
 
 The exquisite dreaming of xviii, ' I have led her 
 home, my love, my only friend,' is more akin to 
 Wordsworth, but the use in xxn, * Come into the 
 garden, Maud,' of the polka rhythm — polka, rather 
 than valse, because of the strong beat — gradually 
 developing till it is fully heard, is thoroughly in the 
 spirit of Dryden's Odes for St Cecilia's Day. 
 
 Illustrations are endless, but I must not get too 
 far away from my proper subject. I can therefore 
 
2i6 The Development of the English Ode 
 
 only briefly note that Swinburne, the chief elaborator 
 of lyric in the Victorian age, takes up the formal 
 ode, and his relations to the Drydenian succession, 
 if any, are remote. It was to other sources that he 
 went for his models. But the Drydenian line of 
 inheritance is probably by no means finished ; some 
 ^ day The Bard may have a successor of like merit. 
 The achievement would be enough for literary im- 
 mortality. 
 
VIII 
 
 THE STATE OF INNOCENCE ; DRYDEN 
 AND MILTON 
 
 In 1677, under the title The State of Innocence / 
 and Fall of Man, Dryden published a version of 
 Paradise Lost as a rhymed play in five Acts, *an 
 Opera.' My reason for including in this course 
 this work of Dryden's is not perhaps mainly the 
 pleasure of reading it, though, apart from comparison 
 with Milton, the poem is better than readable. Com- 
 parison with Milton is inevitable, and cannot even 
 be made so as to treat Dryden fairly. The 'couplet* 
 has been dissociated by historical development from 
 mystery and solemnity ; Milton's blank verse is 
 established as the model and type of all such work, 
 so that the mere imitation of Milton in couplets 
 suggests parody. Set beside each other, for in- 
 stance, the following passages in Dryden's play and 
 in Paradise Lost'. — 
 
 Lucifer. Is this the seat our conqueror has given, 
 
 And this the climate we must change for Heaven? 
 
 These regions and this realm my wars have got ; 
 
 This mournful empire is the loser's lot : 
 
 In liquid burnings, or on dry, to dwell, 
 
 Is all the sad variety of Hell. (Act i, Sc. i) 
 
2i8 The State of Innocence 
 
 This represents Milton's 
 
 Is this the region, this the soil, the clime,... 
 
 That we must change for Heaven ? this mournful gloom 
 
 For that celestial light? (/'. L. i 242) 
 
 Dryden goes on : — 
 
 But see, the victor has recall'd, from far. 
 The avenging storms, his ministers of war : 
 His shafts are spent, and his tir'd thunders sleep. 
 Nor longer bellow through the boundless deep. 
 
 and so recalls : — 
 
 and ceases now 
 To bellow through the vast and boundless deep. 
 
 (Z'. L. I 176) 
 
 Dryden again : — 
 
 Best take the occasion, and these waves forsake. 
 While time is given. — Ho, Asmoday, awake, 
 If thou art he ! But ah ! how chang'd from him. 
 Companion of my arms ! how wan ! how dim ! 
 
 'Asmoday'! — we resent the substitution for Beel- 
 zebub, and find in it a suggestion of burlesque. Nor 
 is the handling, in its own way, above criticism. 
 Dryden writes, ' But see, the victor has recalled ' ; 
 whom does Lucifer address ? The parallel passage 
 of Milton comes not before, but after the conver- 
 sation between Satan and Beelzebub. So again 
 Dryden's Lucifer says : — 
 
 see on the lake 
 Our troops, like scatter'd leaves in autumn, lie. 
 
 This is a reminiscence of Milton's description of the 
 legions : — 
 
 Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks 
 
 In Vallombrosa (i 302) 
 
The State of Innocence 219 
 
 or like the scattered sedge of the Red Sea, * whose 
 waves o'erthrew Busiris and his Memphian chivalry.' 
 We resent the impoverishment, and moreover 
 Milton's description comes after the flight of Satan 
 and Beelzebub to the land, where they could see 
 the floating host. Dryden, much less appropriately, 
 puts it before the flight. 
 
 Many such things as this may be found through- 
 out the play, but nevertheless Dryden's piece is full 
 of interest and worth an hour's attention, among 
 other reasons for the following : — 
 
 (i) It makes an important part of our scanty 
 evidence for Dryden's religious opinions in his middle 
 life, before the theological poems, Religio Laid 
 written in 1682, and The Hind and the Panther in 
 1687, and so bears upon the question of the honesty 
 of Dryden in his conversion and in his tone towards 
 religion after the Revolution. The position from 
 which he came to his theological studies, if it could 
 be discovered, is of importance. The State of Inno- 
 cence is part of our evidence ; with the addition of 
 Tyrannic Love, it is indeed the chief part. More- 
 over Dryden's earlier position is probably typical, 
 and represents the position of many of his contem- 
 poraries. 
 
 (2) The circumstances of the publication of 
 The State of Innocence and its dedication to the 
 Duchess of York are illustrative of Dryden's feelings 
 and of the literary characteristics of the age. 
 
 (3) The Preface is one of the most instructive 
 of Dryden's Prefaces, as showing the groping and 
 
220 The State of Innocence 
 
 tentative state of criticism at the time, and the 
 Preface should not be separated from the play. 
 
 The date of the piece is between the end of 
 1674 and 1677. Milton's death, referred to in the 
 Preface, was in November 1674 and the Duchess 
 of York came to England in that year. The first 
 known edition was in 1677^ The story told on the 
 authority of Aubrey, that Milton's permission was 
 asked by Dryden, and given in the words, ' You 
 may tag my verses if you will,' is probably apocry- 
 phal. That the piece was written in a month, as 
 Dryden himself says in his Preface, is not remark- 
 able. Dryden also says that it was circulated, and 
 largely circulated, in manuscript, * many hundred 
 copies.' The copies were very faulty and produced 
 copious criticism — criticism not merely verbal — so 
 that publication was demanded. Dryden's Preface 
 gives an interesting glimpse of the literary clubs 
 and society of his time. 
 
 The piece was dedicated to the Duchess of 
 York, and this fact, which Dryden pleads as his 
 principal motive for publication, does not preclude 
 an early presentation in MS, and this I am inclined to 
 presume. It is not probable that Dryden, admiring 
 her, left her without poetic homage for three years. 
 But publication was a more effectual compliment : 
 ' I was desirous to lay at the feet of so beautiful and 
 
 ^ See the Introduction by Mr G. R. Noyes to his Selected 
 Dramas of John Dryden (New York), p. xxxviii, footnote 5. The 
 question of an earlier edition is not important for our purposes. 
 
The State of Innocence 221 
 
 excellent a princess, a work, which, I confess, was 
 unworthy her, but which, I hope, she will have the 
 goodness to forgive.' Dry den was really moved by 
 the beauty and innocence of the Duchess ; but he 
 had nothing suitable to offer. The State of Inno- 
 cence suggested itself, and it is tolerable, though 
 there may be something to 'forgive.' 
 
 The dedication however is now hardly tolerable : 
 ' Your person is so admirable, that it can scarce 
 receive addition, when it shall be glorified^ '. and your 
 soul, which shines through it, finds it of a substance 
 so near her own, that she will be pleased to pass an 
 age within it, and to be confined to such a palace.' 
 But this language, however objectionable, is not 
 courtly. Dryden speaks similarly of other virtuous 
 ladies, such as the Countess of Abingdon in his 
 Eleonora. Familiarity with the unseen and myste- 
 rious was in his day encouraged by the religious. 
 We feel it as profane, but it was not so meant. 
 Dryden was moved by the spectacle of lovely virtue, | '^ 
 and meant, as a poet, to show his feeling. j jc^j 
 
 The circumstances of the publication account for 
 the corrupt text, which thus offers some small textual 
 problems : — 
 
 (a) From the beach 
 
 Thy well-known voice the sleeping gods will reach 
 And wake the immortal sense, which thunder's noise 
 Had quell'd, and lightning deep had driven within them. 
 
 (Act I, Sc. i) 
 
 For 'noise' and 'within them,' read din and within, 
 
 * The italics are the lecturer's. 
 
222 The State of Innocence 
 
 {b) Oh virgin, heaven-begot, and born of man, 
 
 Thou fairest of thy great Creator's works ! 
 
 (Act II, Sc. 2) 
 
 For ' works ' read plan. 
 
 {c) Luc. Lives there, who would not seek to force his way, 
 From pain to ease, from darkness to the day? 
 Should I, who found the means to 'scape, not dare 
 To change my sulphurous smoke for upper air? 
 When I, in fight, sustain'd your Thunderer, 
 And heaven on me alone spent half his war, 
 Think'st thou those wounds were light? Should I not 
 
 seek 
 The clemency of some more temperate clime. 
 To purge my gloom ; and, by the sun refin'd, 
 Bask in his beams, and bleach me in the wind. 
 
 (Act III, Sc. i) 
 
 For * clime ' read reek ; Lucifer contrasts the * more 
 temperate reek,' or vapour of earth — ' Fair place, 
 yet what is this to heaven ' — with the ' sulphurous 
 smoke' of Hell. 
 
 The metrical structure of the piece is worth 
 some consideration ; Dryden himself describes it 
 as *an Opera in Heroic Verse,' but, as Professor 
 Saintsbury says in his Life of Dryden, it ' is not 
 wholly in rhyme.' That statement, if taken without 
 further explanation, would suggest more irregularity 
 than is actually the case. The piece consists of 
 about 1400 lines in all, of which one passage only, 
 a consecutive series of some 60 lines, is in blank 
 verse, concluding with a rhymed couplet (Act 11 end 
 of Scene i, beginning with Lucifer's speech: *Am 
 I become so monstrous ? '). The rest of the play 
 
The State of Innocence 223 
 
 is in rhymed couplets with the following excep- 
 tions : — 
 
 (i) 15 hemistichs or incomplete lines, of 4 or 
 6 syllables, instead of the usual 10, of which the 
 following is an illustration : — 
 
 Asm. Yet, not all perish'd : We defy him still. 
 
 And yet wage war, with our unconquer'd will. 
 
 Luc. Strength may return. 
 
 Asm, Already of thy virtue I partake, 
 Erected by thy voice. 
 
 Luc. See on the lake, etc. 
 
 The use of the hemistich is one of the devices 
 commended in the Essay of Dramatic Poesy for 
 relieving the monotony of rhymed verse. 
 
 (2) Three pairs of unrhymed lines, namely, 
 those above quoted, where a correction of the final 
 word restores the rhyme. 
 
 (3) Four single unrhymed lines. One of these 
 (Act v Sc. I, third speech of Eve after her second 
 entry) rhymes with the last couplet but two ; another 
 (Act III Sc. I, third speech of Gabriel after his 
 second entry) is followed by a broken line, thus : — 
 
 Lite. Whoe'er expects our thanks, himself repays, 
 
 And seems but little, who can want our praise. 
 Gab. What in us duty, shews not want in him; 
 
 Blest in himself alone. 
 
 To whom no praise we, by good deeds, can add; 
 
 Nor can his glory suffer from our bad. 
 
 In the two remaining cases the unrhymed lines 
 stand between regularly rhyming couplets (Act 11 
 Sc. I, fifth speech of Adam, and Act in Sc. i, second 
 speech of Ithuriel after his second entry). 
 
224 ^^^^ State of Innocence 
 
 I go on to a detailed consideration of the play. 
 It is divided into five Acts : — 
 
 Act I. Decision of the devils to invade the 
 new earth. The decision is taken by a cabinet 
 council of six, not by a parliament of a thousand, 
 as in Milton i^P. L. i 796). 
 
 Act II. Adam and Eve in Innocence. Lucifer 
 on his way to the earth meets Uriel, the angel of 
 the Sun. 
 
 Act III Arrival of Lucifer in Paradise. Eve's 
 dream of the Temptation. Discovery of Lucifer 
 by the angel-guards and temporary expulsion of 
 Lucifer. 
 
 Act IV. Raphael and Gabriel instruct Adam 
 as to his position and powers. Temptation and sin 
 of Eve. 
 
 Act V. Temptation and sin of Adam ; pronun- 
 ciation by Raphael of the sentence of death. Vision 
 by Adam and Eve of the future misery of the world 
 and of the ultimate bliss of mankind in Heaven. 
 
 The stage directions for the scenery are crude. 
 Thus Act I Scene i, 'represents a Chaos or a con- 
 fused Mass of Matter ; the Stage is almost wholly 
 dark : a Symphony of warlike Music is heard for 
 some time ; then from the Heavens (which are 
 opened) fall the rebellious Angels, wheeling in Air, 
 and seeming transfixed with Thunderbolts ; the 
 bottom of the Stage being opened receives the 
 Angels, who fall out of sight.' At a later point the 
 /Car of the Sun is introduced, and in the fourth Act 
 ^ j^a Cloud descends bearing six Angels, but the scenery 
 
 '■h 
 
The State of Innocence 225 
 
 is for the most part simple. The machinery would 
 not trouble the managers or the audience of the 
 seventeenth century. Scott, in his Introduction, pro- 
 tests that the play can never have been * intended 
 for representation.' But why should there be stage- 
 directions if there was to be no representation ? It 
 does not seem clear that performance was not 
 contemplated. Dryden, for instance, in his Preface 
 offers to explain the publication of ' an opera which 
 was never acted.' There would be no point in this 
 remark if representation were altogether impossible, 
 and in any case there is no reason why Dryden 
 should not suppose that the piece could be produced. 
 Scott objects that the 'costume' of Paradise must 
 have excluded representation. But we may note 
 that before the Fall, Dryden introduces in Eve's 
 dream (Act iii Sc. i) 'a Woman habited like Eve'; 
 Eve in Paradise then was * habited ' in Dryden's 
 view. Nor is there any reason why he should not 
 so suppose; he ignores the Biblical account in many 
 particulars more important : there is, for instance, 
 no sentence of condemnation pronounced by the 
 Deity. ^c^^TcLt^^iS^re^' t^<juLu.u^ 
 
 What Dryden retains is for the most part close 
 to Milton in form, but the substance is fundamentally 
 different ; thus 
 
 {a) the metaphysical or philosophical assump- 
 tions of Milton are criticised by Dryden, and 
 
 {b) the Christian solution is swept away. 
 
 This will appear from the following considera- 
 tions : — 
 
 V. D. 15 
 
226 The State of Innocence 
 
 (a) Milton does not ignore the difficulties of 
 supposing full responsibility in a created being, 
 the conciliation of free-will and divine foreknowledge. 
 The devils discuss this problem, and find 'no end, in 
 wandering mazes lost' (P, L. ii 561). But Milton 
 assumes as a matter of course that a guileless mind 
 (a mind in a state of innocence) would be content 
 with the position of man as stated. The brief state- 
 ment in explanation made by Raphael (/*. L. v 
 519 ff.), that free-will is necessary to virtue, is re- 
 / ceived by Adam with brief gratitude ; he passes on 
 1 at once to request a narrative of the fall of the 
 Angels. 
 
 Contrast the parallel scene in Dryden (Act iv 
 Sc. i). Gabriel and Raphael, with attendance of 
 Angels, argue the case with Adam, who maintains 
 a lively series of objections. Gabriel at one point 
 loses his temper (!) and has to be reminded that 
 Adam only wants instruction : — 
 
 Gabriel. And who but man should judge of man's free state? 
 ( Adam. I find that I can choose to love or hate, 
 Obey or disobey, do good or ill ; 
 , Yet such a choice is but consent, not will. 
 
 I can but choose what he at first design'd. 
 For he, before that choice, my will confin'd. 
 Gabriel. Such impious fancies, where they entrance gain, 
 Make heaven, all pure, thy crimes to pre-ordain. 
 Adam. Far, far from me be banish'd such a thought, 
 I argue only to be better taught. 
 
 Later on Adam makes a sharp repartee to Raphael : — 
 
 Raphael. Sufficient causes only work the effect, 
 When necessary agents they respect. 
 
The State of Innocence 227 
 
 Such is not man; who, though the cause suffice, 
 Yet often he his free assent denies. 
 Adam. What causes not, is not sufficient still. 
 
 And finally Adam objects : — 
 
 Better constrain'd to good, than free to ill. 
 
 whereupon Raphael, with brief reply closes the de- 
 bate, leaving Adam utterly dissatisfied : — 
 
 Adam, Hard state of life ! Since heaven foreknows my will, 
 Why am I not tied up from doing ill? 
 Why am I trusted with myself at large. 
 When he's more able to sustain the charge? 
 Since angels fell, whose strength was more than mine, 
 'T would show more grace my frailty to confine. I 
 
 Foreknowing the success, to leave me free, 
 Excuses him, and yet supports not me. 
 
 If Dryden's verse and style here differ from 
 Milton's, so does his theme. His position is that 
 human responsibility could not be explained to a 
 human intelligence, and that to suppose a state of 
 innocence in will would not alter this. Acquiescence 
 would mean not innocence, but want or inaction of 
 reason. r ^7, 
 
 (b) So much for Dryden's attitude towards 
 the philosophical problem ; the Christian solution is .^^^^^ 
 simply omitted by him. The Miltonic expositions ( \J^J 
 in Heaven (JR. L. Books in and v) are not noticed '•'**' 
 or used. And so it is elsewhere. There is no 
 reference whatever to the Redemption. This diffe- 
 rence of treatment is chiefly apparent in the con- 
 clusion of the two poems. In Paradise Lost the 
 future is revealed to Adam by Michael in a series 
 
 15—2 
 
228 The State of Innocence 
 
 of visions and prophecies ; Dryden follows upon 
 Milton's lines, only adding the presence of Eve — 
 who is decidedly less suppressed in Dryden's play 
 than in Milton's poem — and replacing Michael by 
 Raphael. But the parallel form only exhibits the 
 discrepancy of substance. By Milton the whole 
 Biblical history is shown in summary, both the Old 
 and the New Testament, down to the persecution 
 of the nascent Church, and including therefore the 
 story of Christ and the plan of Redemption. 
 
 Now see Dryden's conclusion. After visions of 
 Death — compared below with Milton's — Raphael 
 speaks : — 
 
 Death you have seen : now see your race revive, 
 
 How happy they in deathless pleasure live ; 
 
 Far more than I can show, or you can see, 
 
 Shall crown the blest with immortality. 
 Here a Heaven descends full of Angels and Blessed Spirits 
 with soft Music, a Song and Chorus. 
 Adam. Oh, goodness infinite! whose heavenly will 
 
 Can so much good produce from so much ill ! 
 
 Happy their state ! 
 ^ Pure, and unchang'd, and needing no defence 
 
 From sins, as did my frailer innocence. 
 
 Their joy sincere, and with no sorrow mixt : 
 
 Eternity stands permanent and fixt. 
 
 And wheels no longer on the poles of Time; 
 
 Secure from fate, and more secure from crime. 
 
 There is no suggestion of means or conditions 
 
 by which Heaven can be attained. It is a consoling 
 
 and reassuring imagination, bringing Creation to 
 
 ^ the point desired and presumably intended in the 
 
The State of Innocence 229 
 
 scheme. The course pursued, of which we see a 
 stage, must be accepted by human intelligence as > 
 inexplicable.--.^ 2K^i> I ;^ /.va-'/i::V/ - ^ rv fi^t 
 
 To what Adam has said, Eve adds the following 
 words : — 
 
 Ravish'd with joy, I can but half repent 
 
 The sin, which heaven makes happy in the event. 
 
 The remark is perhaps not felicitous, though natural. 
 It is needless to suppose that Dryden did not per- 
 ceive this. Discretion is not woman's strong point. 
 In insisting on separation from Adam, Milton's Eve 
 is not discreet, though innocent (/*. L. ix 270 ff.). 
 Dryden makes the scene more natural than Milton 
 dares do. In* Milton's version one does not see 
 why Adam gives way, so careful is Milton to save 
 the sweetness of Eve. Dryden's conception of 
 innocence is less artificial; -4. a /' ' ' ///cf/^^6c/ 
 But perhaps the most striking contrast with ? 
 Milton's attitude is found in Dryden's final words. - 
 
 After encouragement from Raphael and farewells 
 to Paradise from Adam and Eve, the piece concludes 
 with the following fine passage : — 
 
 Raphael. The rising winds urge the tempestuous air : 
 And on their wings deformed winter bear; 
 The beasts already feel the change; and hence 
 They fly to deeper coverts, for defence : 
 The feebler herd before the stronger run ; 
 For now the war of nature is begun ; 
 But, part you hence in peace, and, having mourn'd 
 
 your sin 
 For outward Eden lost, find Paradise within. 
 
230 The State of Innocence 
 
 Dryden's play is not addressed to real Christians. 
 Theologically Milton's spirit is not altogether Chris- 
 tian ; it is not humble enough. But his creed is 
 Christian. Dryden, on the other hand, accepts 
 from Christianity the Resurrection and Paradise 
 as necessary, but conceives all explanation and 
 account of the scheme as a gratuitous embarrass- 
 ment. 
 
 The State of Innocence is a translation of Paradise 
 Lost, revised and adapted to a large part of society. 
 The Duchess of York, to whom it was dedicated, 
 was herself a Roman Catholic, and Dryden probably 
 assumed that she would not follow very precisely 
 and would fill up his gaps with her own comment. 
 Dryden intends no disrespect to Paradise Lost ; 
 there are very strong expressions of admiration for 
 Milton and of deference to him in the Preface. The 
 Preface is better evidence for his admiration of 
 Milton than is the nonsensical epigram which ap- 
 peared under the engraving of Milton's picture, 
 published in 1688 : — 
 
 Three poets, in three distant ages born, 
 Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. 
 The first, in loftiness of thought surpass'd; 
 The next in majesty; in both, the last. 
 The force of Nature could no further go ; 
 To make a third, she join'd the former two. 
 
 But Dryden did not, even in his latest years, think 
 Milton above criticism. In his Essay on Satire, for 
 instance, published in 1693, he expresses the view 
 that Milton had followed Scripture too far for 
 
The State of Innocence 231 
 
 advantage of style ; The State of Innocence implies 
 the same view as regards subject-matter. 
 
 As to the style, Dryden defends heroic poetry — 
 under. which he would class both Milton's work and 
 his own — in dealing with gigantic character, against 
 those who plead for 'imitation of Nature' as a reason 
 for refusing heights of imagination. Here we come 
 against the old fallacy of Renaissance criticism, that 
 imitation is exact copying. Dryden, however, does " 
 not here strike the fallacy, nor indeed generally 
 anywhere else in his critical writings. As to the 
 'machinery' of both pieces, the supernatural agents 
 and immaterial beings, Dryden prudently avoids) % 
 saying that his immaterial beings are real. Milton 
 partly evades difficulties by dexterously avoiding 
 awkward juxtapositions : his 'seraph wing'd ' Angel, 
 for instance, is material enough to eat when with 
 man ' with keen despatch of real hunger.' Further 
 questions are indicated but not solved, and in 
 general, Milton's Heaven and cosmic setting are at 
 bottom confused. We feel this, and so long as we 
 are not affronted by discrepancies, we accept it as a 
 symbol of mystery. 
 
 Dryden's tone, his determination to keep his 
 feet on the ground, will not allow this sort of defence. 
 His Uriel and other figures are only gigantic, not 
 mysterious. In the Preface he avoids direct dis- 
 cussion of the point, falls back on Shakespeare's 
 Tempest and other plays, and meets the difficulty 
 about imitation by a strange quibble : — Fairies, 
 though they do not exist, are believed in ; thus 
 
232 The State of Innocence 
 
 Shakespeare imitateSy not indeed actual reality, but 
 the real fairies of rustics. We have here an inter- 
 esting proof of the difficulty there is in clearing 
 thought. The merits of Ariel are not dependent 
 on the fact that someone had or might have believed 
 him, as described by Shakespeare, to have really 
 existed. And Dry den himself adds, citing the Angels 
 of Scripture and the gods of Homer, that 'thus we 
 . have notions of things above us, by describing them 
 / like other beings more within our knowledge,' and 
 does not see that this covers the case of Ariel. 
 
 Incidentally, while on this subject, we may note 
 that Dryden's reference, in the Preface, to Lucretius' 
 use of the word ' image ' shows that he does not 
 understand the theory of the Epicurean imago. 
 
 Elevation of language, figures of style, are also 
 defended in the Preface. On this subject Dryden 
 is lively and amusing ; he wishes that his ' imaging ' 
 were bolder, more Miltonic, and defends the four 
 lines attacked by his critics : — 
 
 Seraph and Cherub, careless of their charge, 
 And wanton, in full ease now live at large : 
 Unguarded leave the passes of the sky, 
 And all dissolv'd in hallelujahs lie. 
 
 The objector, he tells us, compares with the last 
 line anchovies dissolved in sauce. In answer he 
 cites Virgil {A en. 11 265) invadunt urbem, somno 
 vinoque sepultam, ' they break into the city buried 
 in sleep and wine ' ; but is the case parallel '^ He 
 also cites Cowley's line, ' Where their vast courts the 
 mother waters keep,' asking whether the metaphor 
 
The State of hmocence 233 
 
 must be pressed and whether 'the little waters, their 
 daughters, make courtesy to them.' He takes his 
 own expression, 'dissolv'd in hallelujahs,' as exactly 
 similar to the phrase 'dissolv'd in songs of triumph.' 
 But is this so ? Legates and Tribunes might be 
 dissolved in songs of triumph, but we cannot dis- 
 regard the associations of the Hebrew words, nor 
 the meaning of Hallelujah, a song, not of triumph, 
 but of praise to God : — 
 
 'Great are thy works, Jehovah!'... 
 So sung they, and the empyrean rung 
 With hallelujahs : thus was sabbath kept. 
 
 {P. L. V 602, 634 f.) 
 
 He also discusses the treatment of the gigantic, 
 citing Virgil's Polyphemus [Aen. in 664) : — 
 
 Graditurque per aequor 
 lam medium; necdum fluctus latera ardua tinxit. 
 
 * He walks through the sea up to his middle ; yet 
 the waves wash not his high flanks ' : and Cowley's 
 Goliath, of whom Cowley writes : — 
 
 The valley, now, this monster seemed to fill ; 
 
 And we, methought, look'd up to him from our hill. 
 
 Dryden's apology for Cowley is ineffective and we 
 sympathise with Scott's mutter in his note : ' With 
 all this mitigation, the passage seems horrible bom- 
 bast.' Now we touch the point. Polyphemus is 
 much bigger than Goliath. Consider their respective 
 stories. Ulysses did not fight Polyphemus man to 
 man, in single combat, as David fought Goliath. 
 Polyphemus is a monster, Goliath only a huge man ; 
 
234 T^^^ State of Innocence 
 
 language poetically appropriate to a monster is 
 
 Jaombastic if applied to a large man. 
 
 r*"^ Dryden, as he is well aware, is not as bold in 
 
 \ language as Milton, but claims a nobility of his own 
 
 J kind and suited to his purpose. He disclaims the 
 
 I raptures of Lee's Commendatory Verses. Lee wrote 
 
 that Milton had given *ore' which Dryden had 
 
 'refined'; that Milton had captured the 'rustic 
 
 maid ' and that Dryden had ' dressed her ' and 
 
 brought her ' to court ' ! But Dryden doubtless saw 
 
 nothing absurd in Lee's addressing him as 'awful 
 
 poet.' He would not have admitted a universal 
 
 inferiority to Milton. Nor indeed need he. Let 
 
 us compare the two poets in their treatment of the 
 
 vision of Death : — 
 
 Paradise Lost xi 477 ff., the Lazar-house : — 
 
 Immediately a place 
 Before his eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark, 
 A Lazar-house it seem'd, wherein were laid 
 Numbers of all diseas'd ; all maladies 
 Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms 
 Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds. 
 Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs, 
 Intestine stone and ulcer, cholic pangs, 
 Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy 
 And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy. 
 Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence. 
 Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums. 
 Dire was the tossing, deep the groans; Despair 
 Tended the sick busiest from couch to couch; 
 And over them triumphant Death his dart 
 Shook, but delay 'd to strike though oft invok't 
 With vows, as their chief good, and final hope. 
 
The State of Innocence 235 
 
 Battles and other forms of Death are shown in 
 later visions, but this first vision gives the typical 
 style. 
 
 The State of Innocence, Act v Sc. i. 
 
 The Scene shifts, and discovers deaths of several sorts. A 
 Battle at Land and a Naval Fight. 
 
 Adam. O wretched offspring ! O unhappy state 
 Of all mankind, by me betray'd to fate ! 
 Born, through my crime to be offenders first; 
 And, for those sins they could not shun, accurst. 
 
 Eve, Why is life forc'd on man, who, might he choose. 
 
 Would not accept what he with pain must lose? ^ 
 Unknowing, he receives it; and when, known, 
 He thinks it his, and values it, 'tis gone. 
 
 Raphael. Behold of every age ; ripe manhood see. 
 Decrepit years, and helpless infancy : 
 Those who, by lingering sickness, lose their breath ; 
 And those who, by despair, suborn their death. 
 See yon mad fools, who for some trivial right, 
 For love, or for mistaken honour, fight : 
 See those, more mad, who throw their lives away 
 In needless wars; the stakes which monarchs lay, 
 When for each other's provinces they play. 
 Then, as if earth too narrow were for fate, 
 On open seas their quarrels they debate : 
 In hollow wood they floating armies bear; 
 And force imprison'd winds to bring them near. 
 
 In Milton's description there is too much art, 
 he overlays the horror. If we ask which picture 
 is the sadder, we must answer, that it is surely 
 Dryden's. 
 
 An interesting comparison may be made between 
 Milton's Satan and Dryden's Lucifer. Satan has 
 
236 The State of Innocence 
 
 been called the 'hero of Paradise Lost! Dryden 
 feels this and wishes to lower him. The Devil 
 should, in his view, be in some sort contemptible. 
 It is consistent with this feeling that he suggests a 
 comparison between the Council in Hell and the 
 ( Dutch Republic! 
 
 ^.^i^' Most high and mighty lords, who better fell 
 
 f^! From heaven, to rise states-general of hell. 
 
 * \ 
 
 ^Y Milton's Satan takes the lead, both in the sug- 
 ^^ gestion to assail man i^P. L, i 655 ff.), in which he 
 is followed by Beelzebub at the Council (/^. Z. 11 
 345 ff.), and in the enterprise itself {P. L. 11 430). 
 In Dryden's play the counsel comes from Asmoday, 
 and the first offer from the 'rash Moloch,' whom 
 Lucifer has to check (Act i Sc. i). This difference 
 of attitude towards the Devil is to be remembered 
 in comparing the treatment of the * dream of Eve ' 
 by Milton and by Dryden, a passage where Dryden 
 most offends modern taste. The stately story is 
 told by Milton in the Fifth Book oi Paradise Lost, 
 beginning, ' Now Morn her rosy steps in the eastern 
 clime Advancing sow'd the earth with orient pearl,' 
 and ending with 'the gracious signs of sweet remorse 
 And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended' i^P. L. v 
 1-135). Dryden's version, given about the middle 
 of the Third Act, begins with Lucifer's remark, 
 ' So, now they lie secure in love,' and ends with the 
 chorus of Dream- Angels singing : — 
 
 To the joy that's forbidden we eagerly move; 
 It enhances the price, and increases the love. 
 
The State of Innocence 237 
 
 In this scene, Dryden has deliberately vulgarised 
 everything, holding that the art of the Devil is 
 vulgar. To Dante, to name a writer of widely 
 differing temper and outlook, such a treatment of 
 the Devil would have been quite intelligible. 
 
IX 
 
 ALL FOR LOVE; OR THE WORLD 
 WELL LOST 
 
 The play oi All for Love ; or the World Well 
 Lost was produced in 1677 ^^<^ published the next 
 year. It is a combination of English tradition and 
 * classic' rules, written in blank verse, unlike the 
 heroic plays, and with characters forcible rather than 
 stately : it is indeed a direct imitation of Shake- 
 speare's Antony and Cleopatra, It specially deserves 
 the attention of students of Dryden, as being the 
 only play — so he tells us nearly twenty years later — 
 which he 'writ for' himself. 
 
 The * classic' rules were observed with strictness. 
 Dryden writes in the Preface : — 
 
 The fabric of the play is regular enough, as to the 
 inferior parts of it ; and the unities of time place and action 
 more exactly observed than perhaps the English theatre 
 requires. Particularly, the action is so much one that it is 
 the only of the kind without episode, or underplot; every 
 scene in the tragedy conducing to the main design, and every 
 act concluding with a turn of it. 
 
 In this quotation I have followed the punctuation, 
 Dryden's own, which is given in the recent edition 
 
All for Love ; or the World IVell Lost 239 
 
 of Selected D7'amas of John Dry den by Mr G. R. 
 Noyes\ But I note a m'ispunctuation in one sentence, 
 which, with the ordinary punctuation, is not intelH- 
 gible ; for clearness, a pause should be marked after 
 the word 'only,' and the sentence should read : — 
 
 Particularly, the action is so much one that it is the only, 
 of the kind without episode or underplot. 
 
 What Dryden means is that all the scenes are parts 
 of one story, not (as in underplots) merely united 
 with the main story by some connexion : such might 
 be 'one action' in a sense, but not 'the only.' He 
 is not claiming that no other play without episode 
 or underplot has ever been written, but that this 
 play is of that kind. 
 
 In All for Love Dryden follows in the main the 
 traditions of the Greek and of the French stage. 
 Each act is a single continuous scene ; the time of 
 the action is within the limit of ' a day ; ' but the 
 place changes at least once, from the Temple of 
 I sis in Act i to the Palace of Cleopatra in the re- 
 maining Acts. The play, it may be said, makes no 
 very severe impression of the brevity of the time 
 in which the events described occur. But clearly it 
 shows only the last stages of a story, and fulfils the 
 condition in which such an arrangement is easiest, 
 by presenting us with a story that is notorious. 
 Such was the regular practice in the Greek theatre. 
 
 Mr Noyes' Introduction on ' Dryden as a Dra- 
 matist' should be read by students of Dryden's work. 
 
 ^ See above, p. 220, note. 
 
240 All for Love ; 
 
 Writing of All for Love he says that 'in it many 
 traits of the heroic plays still survive ' and he 
 thinks, though here I hardly agree with him, that in 
 Antony there is something of Almanzor (in The 
 Conquest of Granada). Dryden's Cleopatra as com- 
 pared with Shakespeare's Moses her intellectual 
 brilliancy and her '' infinite variety " and becomes a 
 fond and faithful mistress,' for without constancy 
 she would not be heroic or fit for tragedy : ' accord- 
 ing to the conventions of the time, no tragic heroine 
 must be guilty of inconstancy.' In that case we 
 must not count as a tragic heroine the fickle Lyn- 
 daraxa of The Conquest of Granada. Mr Noyes 
 quotes, with agreement, Dryden's own admission 
 that the introduction of Octavia is a mistake, as 
 dividing the interest of the play and diverting com- 
 passion from Antony and Cleopatra. Whether this 
 criticism is just we will consider later, only here 
 noting that the contemporary critics had not appa- 
 rently taken the objection and that therefore Dryden 
 had a happy opportunity to be modest without 
 making any concession to their views. 
 
 In the Antony of Dryden, as contrasted with 
 Shakespeare's Antony, says Mr Noyes, there is no 
 real struggle between his infatuation for Cleopatra 
 and his * Roman thoughts.' This is in the main 
 true, but does not make the action, ' as Aristotle 
 would call it, "episodic."' Discussion of the point 
 is better deferred till after analysis of the play. 
 
or the World JVell Lost 241 
 
 Act I 
 
 The first Act opens in the Temple of Isis, where 
 the prodigies that foretell the impending fall of 
 Egypt are described by the Egyptian priests to the 
 eunuch Alexas in a hyperbolical passage. Alexas 
 would discard Antony and so save Egypt, but 
 Cleopatra's love makes this impossible. Egypt's 
 security therefore depends on a last effort of Antony. 
 Will he make this effort? He has retired from 
 Cleopatra for some days and the Egyptians fear 
 that he is either hopeless or treacherous. 
 
 Ventidius then enters, Antony's 'great lieutenant 
 in the East,' himself a Roman. His arrival * bodes 
 ...ill to' Egyptian affairs. He insists on seeing 
 Antony. It is Antony's birthday and the Egyptians 
 have proclaimed a public holiday in his honour, but 
 Ventidius disdainfully dissociates himself from ' this 
 general joy.' The Egyptians retire as Antony, 
 wishing to be alone, approaches. Ventidius refuses 
 to keep away but ' withdraws ' to observe him. 
 
 Antony's first words show his melancholy; Ven- 
 tidius thereupon declares himself, and both friends 
 are moved to tears at the meeting. Ventidius en- 
 courages Antony to self-reproach, and then discloses 
 a new hope : twelve legions are ready for Antony 
 in a place described, with geographical vagueness, 
 as ' Lower Syria ' (345), though apparently they 
 have been led ' down from the Parthian marches to 
 the Nile' (340). But these legions will not fight 
 for Cleopatra, so that Antony must first break with 
 
 V. D. 16 
 
242 All for Love ; 
 
 her. At this Antony is angry, inveighs furiously 
 against the ' plain insolence ' of Ventidius and calls 
 him a traitor. This accusation Ventidius indignantly 
 disproves and Antony retracts it. 
 
 The scene is good and finely written ; it should 
 be read as a whole, and is too long to quote. But 
 I would draw special attention to the 60 lines from 
 ^- 359> where Ventidius begins his attack upon 
 Cleopatra, to the complete conversion of Antony, 
 concluding thus^: — 
 
 Ant. Thou only lov'st, the rest have flatter'd me. 
 
 Vent. Heav'n's blessing on your heart for that kind word! 
 
 May I believe you love me? Speak again. 
 Ant. Indeed I do. Speak this, and this, and this. 417 
 
 \Hugging kirn.] 
 
 Thy praises were unjust; but I'll deserve 'em, 
 
 And yet mend all. Do with me what thou wilt; 
 
 Lead me to victory! thou know'st the way. 
 
 I have reproduced in v. 417 the ordinary punctua- 
 tion of all the editions. But the sense as well as 
 the grammar would be improved by a small change 
 avoiding the suggestion that * Speak' is addressed 
 to Ventidius, thus : * Indeed I do, — speak this, and 
 this, and this (hugging him)' 
 
 Act II 
 
 The action here apparently takes place in front 
 of Cleopatra's palace where Antony and the soldiers 
 might naturally pass. The front of the palace is 
 
 ^ The quotations follow the text and punctuation of Mr Noyes' 
 Edition. 
 
 ''.^ 
 
or the World Well Lost 243 
 
 not however suitable to all the succeeding scenes 
 and, as usual, the observance of the * unity of place * 
 is rather superficial. 
 
 Cleopatra, desperate but still devoted to Antony, 
 has asked for an interview ; her woman Charmion 
 returns and reports his doubtful behaviour : — 
 
 I told my message, 
 Just as you gave it, broken and disorder'd; 
 I number'd in it all your sighs and tears; 
 And while I mov'd your pitiful request. 
 That you but only begg'd a last farewell. 
 He fetch'd an inward groan; and ev'ry time 
 I nam'd you, sigh'd, as if his heart were breaking, 
 But shunn'd my eyes, and guiltily look'd down : 
 He seem'd not now that awful Antony, 
 Who shook an arm'd assembly with his nod; 
 But, making show as he would rub his eyes, 
 Disguis'd and blotted out a falling tear. 
 •Cleo, Did he then weep? And was I worth a tear? (57 ff.) 
 
 Alexas takes encouragement from this, or rather 
 pretends to do so, and obtains Cleopatra's leave to 
 stop Antony on his passage, if possible. Antony, 
 Ventidius, and ' other Commanders ' then enter. In 
 certain parts of the conversation between Antony 
 and Ventidius, who discuss the character of Octavius 
 (Caesar Augustus), it is impossible not to see allu- 
 jsions to Louis XIV ; thus, Antony says : — 
 
 If he ventures )r 
 
 (As in lUyria once they say he did, 
 To storm a town), 'tis when he cannot choose; 
 When all the world have fix'd their eyes upon him; 
 And then he lives on that for seven years after; 
 
 (114 ff.) 
 
 16 — 2 
 
244 All for Love i 
 
 and again : — 
 
 He would live, like a lamp, to the last wink, 
 
 And crawl upon the utmost verge of life. 
 
 O Hercules ! why should a man like this. 
 
 Who dares not trust his fate for one great action, 
 
 Be all the care of heav'n? (129 ff.) 
 
 Louis XIV, as Macaulay writes in the Essay on 
 Sir William Temple, ' never repaired to a siege till 
 it had been reported to him by the most skilful 
 officers in his service that nothing could prevent the 
 fall of the place. When this was ascertained, the 
 monarch... declared the capitulation... and then re- 
 turned to Versailles to hear his flatterers repeat that 
 Turenne had been beaten at Mariendal, that Condd 
 had been forced to raise the siege of Arras, and that 
 the only warrior whose glory had never been ob- 
 scured by a single check was Louis the Great \' 
 
 Alexas brings jewels for the departing Romans 
 and the gift for Antony is a bracelet which neither 
 he nor Alexas can fasten, so that Cleopatra is sent 
 for to tie it on. At her entry Antony tells his whole 
 
 ^ See Saint-Simon's Memoirs i 10 for Louis' 'gotit des sieges, 
 pour y montrer sa bravoure a bon marche.' In i 3 Saint-Simon 
 describes how in the spring of 1676 — a year before the per- 
 formance and two years before the pubUcation of All for Love — 
 the French army, commanded by Louis, was in close touch with 
 the Dutch enemy under the Prince of Orange, but in spite of 
 superiority of numbers and the advice of his generals, Louis XIV 
 personally decided against any engagement; at the Council of 
 war the King ' tourna bride, et il ne fut plus question de bataille,' 
 to the great surprise of the Prince of Orange, as Saint-Simon 
 relates at some length. 
 
or the World JVell Lost 245 
 
 story, as a justification for his present intention, 
 commanding her to be silent till he has finished. 
 But his memories weaken him, and after Cleopatra 
 has justified herself by pleading her love, the crisis 
 comes when Antony laments for both : — 
 
 Ant. We're both unhappy; 
 
 If nothing else, yet our ill fortune parts us. 
 
 Speak; would you have me perish by my stay? 
 Cleo. If, as a friend, you ask my judgement, go ; 
 
 If, as a lover, stay. If you must perish — 
 
 'Tis a hard word — but stay. (378 if.) 
 
 Ventidius, misunderstanding, declares that Cleo- 
 patra would make a separate peace if she could. 
 Then Cleopatra plays her trump card : she has had 
 from Octavius an offer of a separate peace, and has 
 refused it. Antony, blinded and overcome, retorts 
 upon Ventidius in his own phrases : — 
 
 Ant. My queen's not only innocent, but loves me. 
 
 This, this is she, who drags me down to ruin ! 
 But, could she scape without me, with what haste 
 Would she let slip her hold, and make to shore. 
 And never look behind ! 
 Down on thy knees, blasphemer as thou art, 
 And ask forgiveness of wrong'd innocence. 
 
 Vent. I'll rather die, than take it. Will you go? 
 
 Ant. Go ! whither ? Go from all that's excellent ! 
 Faith, honour, virtue, all good things forbid 
 That I should go from her, who sets my love 
 Above the price of kingdoms. Give, you gods, 
 Give to your boy, your Caesar, 
 This rattle of a globe to play withal, 
 This gewgaw world, and put him cheaply off: 
 I'll not be pleas'd with less than Cleopatra. (430 ff.) 
 
246 All for Love ; 
 
 Hereupon the plan is changed, and Antony will 
 surprise Caesar by a sortie. This sortie takes place 
 between Act ri and Actiii, and in it five thousand 
 Romans are killed. The proceeding is rather abrupt, 
 but the ' unity of time ' must be preserved. 
 
 Act III 
 
 The third Act opens with the return of the 
 victorious Antony, who is met by Cleopatra. The 
 rhodomontade which follows recalls the style of the 
 heroic plays, but such traces are rare — and here 
 perhaps not out of place : — 
 
 Ant. My brighter Venus ! 
 
 Cleo. O, my greater Mars ! 
 
 Ant. Thou join'st us well, my love ! 
 
 Suppose me come from the Phlegrsean plains, 
 Where gasping giants lay, cleft by my sword, 
 And mountain-tops par'd off each other blow, 15 
 
 To bury those I slew. 
 
 In z;. 15 I follow Mr Noyes, Scott, and the Quartos 
 in reading 'par'd' (sliced off), and not * paired' 
 (coupled), which is the reading of Mr Saintsbury 
 both in the Mermaid Edition and also in his revision 
 of Scott's Edition. / 
 
 I Ventidius enters and is sneered at by Alexas, 
 but defended good-humouredly by Antony. The 
 
 ^ procession departs, but Ventidius persuades Antony 
 to give him an interview, and then suggests negotia- 
 tion with Caesar. Antony says that for this there 
 is no chance, as he has no instrument. He once 
 had such an instrument in Dolabella, a devoted 
 
or the World Well Lost 247 
 
 friend, but they had parted on the conviction of 
 Antony — a just suspicion — that Dolabella loved 
 Cleopatra. Dolabella is now in Caesar's camp and, 
 so Antony supposes, utterly estranged from him. 
 In the conversation Antony is the first to name 
 Dolabella but it was Ventidius who led him to the 
 recollection. Antony's description of the friendship 
 is worth quoting : — 
 
 Ant, The wretched have no friends. — ' 
 
 Yet I had one, the bravest youth of Rome, 
 Whom Caesar loves beyond the love of women: 
 He could resolve his mind, as fire does wax; 
 From that hard rugged image melt him down, 
 And mould him in what softer form he pleas'd. 
 
 Vent. Him would I see ; that man of all the world ; 
 Just such a one we want. 
 
 Ant. He lov'd me too; 
 
 I was his soul ; he liv'd not but in me : 
 We were so clos'd within each other's breasts, 
 The rivets were not found that join'd us first. 
 That does not reach us yet : we were so mix'd, 
 As meeting streams, — both to ourselves were lost; 
 We were one mass; we could not give or take. 
 But from the same; for he was I, I he. (83 ff.) 
 
 Ventidius assures Antony of Dolabella's fidelity ; 
 he has in fact ' sent a messenger ' with honourable 
 offers from Caesar. Antony consents to receive the 
 messenger and Dolabella himself appears, to his 
 uncontrollable pleasure. Antony is ashamed of his 
 reduced condition ; Dolabella and Ventidius both 
 confirm his self-reproach, but when Dolabella glances, 
 very distantly, at Cleopatra, Antony is instantly sus- 
 picious though he keeps a rallying tone : — Dolabella 
 
248 All for Love ; 
 
 knows that he himself was no more proof against 
 Cleopatra than Antony had been ; why, he gave up 
 his vengeance for his brother at sight of her. This 
 introduces the description of Cleopatra's barge, a 
 direct imitation from Shakespeare. A comparison 
 of the two passages I defer for the present. 
 
 Dolabella leads round the conversation to his 
 purpose ; he has done his best for Antony with 
 Caesar and now brings honourable offers, procured 
 by a friend not named. Antony, much moved, asks 
 to see the 'man,* and Ventidius produces — Octavia 
 and her children ! The movement of this scene is 
 very ingenious : — 
 
 Ant. Show me that man, 
 
 Who has preserv'd my life, my love, my honour; 
 Let me but see his face. 
 
 Vent. That task is mine, 
 
 And, Heav'n, thou know'st how pleasing. 
 
 Dol. You'll remember 
 
 To whom you stand oblig'd? 
 
 Ant. When I forget it. 
 
 Be thou unkind, and that's my greatest curse. 
 My queen shall thank him too. 
 
 Dot. I fear she will not. 
 
 Ant. But she shall do't. The queen, my Dolabella! 
 Hast thou not still some grudgings of thy fever? 
 
 Dol. I would not see her lost. 
 
 Ant. When I forsake her. 
 
 Leave me my better stars ! for she has truth 
 Beyond her beauty. Caesar tempted her, 
 At no less price than kingdoms, to betray me; 
 But she resisted all: and yet thou chid'st me 
 For loving her too well. Could I do so? 
 
 Dol. Yes; there's my reason,... (223 ff.) 
 
or the World Well Lost 249 
 
 and Ventidius brings in Octavia. Octavia offers 
 
 her ' duty ' and asks nothing : — 
 
 I'll tell my brother we are reconcil'd ; 
 
 He shall draw back his troops, and you shall march 
 
 To rule the East: I may be dropp'd at Athens; 
 
 No matter where. I never will complain, 
 
 But only keep the barren name of wife, 
 
 And rid you of the trouble. (300 fF.) 
 
 Antony refuses this cold bounty, being deter- 
 mined to force Octavia to say that she loves him ; 
 and this Octavia in effect confesses : — 
 
 Ant. Then I must be oblig'd 
 
 To one who loves me not : who, to herself, 
 May call me thankless and ungrateful man : — 
 I'll not endure it; no. 
 
 Vent, {aside) I'm glad it pinches there. 
 
 Oct. Would you triumph o'er poor Octavia's virtue? 
 That pride was all I had to bear me up; 
 That you might think you ow'd me for your life, 
 And ow'd it to my duty, not my love. 
 I have been injur'd, and my haughty soul 
 Could brook but ill the man who slights my bed. 
 
 Ant. Therefore you love me not. 
 
 Oct. Therefore, my lord, 
 
 I should not love you. 
 
 Ant. Therefore you would leave me? 
 
 Oct. And therefore I should leave you — if I could, (319 ff.) 
 
 The reconciliation is complete ; Octavia and the 
 children carry off Antony just in time for Alexas 
 to witness their departure. Ventidius mocks him, 
 and in despair and disgust Alexas admits defeat : — 
 
 This downright fighting fool, this thick-skull'd hero, 
 
 This blunt unthinking instrument of death. 
 
 With plain dull virtue has outgone my wit. (379 ff.) 
 
250 All for Love ; 
 
 Cleopatra, already informed of Antony's decision 
 and abandoning all hope, then enters, and is followed 
 by Octavia, apparently brought by curiosity ; her 
 movements are not very clearly explained, but the 
 stage-excitement would carry this off. There is a 
 defiant meeting between the two ; mere bitterness 
 and fury are shown on both sides, but the scene is 
 not undignified. Cleopatra has the best of the 
 interview, being ashamed of nothing and shunning 
 no exposure. Octavia leaves abruptly with a threat, 
 and then Cleopatra breaks down. Alexas spies a 
 hope, but Cleopatra is beyond consolation and the 
 Act closes, as usual upon a couplet : — 
 
 There I till death will his unkindness weep; 
 As harmless infants moan themselves asleep. 
 
 Act IV 
 
 Antony sends Dolabella to carry his farewell 
 to Cleopatra, insisting that only Dolabella can be 
 trusted to do this gently, but Dolabella is unwilling, 
 for he knows his own secret wishes, and desires to 
 be loyal : — 
 
 Dol. I should speak 
 
 So faintly, with such fear to grieve her heart, 
 She'd not believe it earnest. 
 
 Ant. Therefore, — therefore 
 
 Thou only, thou art fit. Think thyself me; 
 And when thou speak'st, (but let it first be long), 
 Take off the edge from every sharper sound, 
 And let our parting be as gently made, 
 As other loves begin: wilt thou do this? (15 ff-) 
 
or the IVorld JVell Lost 251 
 
 Dolabella accepts, and in a soliloquy — one of 
 the better known passages of the play — determines 
 to speak for himself: — 
 
 Men are but children of a larger growth ; 
 
 Our appetites as apt to change as theirs, 
 
 And full as craving too, and full as vain; 
 
 And yet the soul, shut up in her dark room, 
 
 Viewing so clear abroad, at home sees nothing; 
 
 But, like a mole in earth, busy and blind. 
 
 Works all her folly up, and casts it outward 
 
 To the world's open view : thus I discover'd. 
 
 And blam'd the love of ruin'd Antony; 
 
 Yet wish that I were he, to be so ruin'd. (43 ff.) 
 
 Ventidius enters and overhears Dolabella's misgiv- 
 ings, and being still doubtful of Antony's resolution, 
 decides to expose Cleopatra's anticipated faithless- 
 ness. 
 
 Meanwhile Alexas, whose hope is still to save 
 Egypt by means of Antony, prompts Cleopatra to 
 pretend an intrigue with Dolabella as a means of 
 recovering Antony by jealousy. Cleopatra very 
 unwillingly consents to the deceit, after a character- 
 istic taunt : — 
 
 Can I do this ? Ah, no ; my love's so true. 
 
 That I can neither hide it where it is. 
 
 Nor show it where it is not. Nature meant me 
 
 A wife; a silly, harmless, household dove, 
 
 Fond without art, and kind without deceit ; 
 
 But fortune, that has made a mistress of me, 
 
 Has thrust me out to the wide world, unfurnish'd 
 
 Of falsehood to be happy. (89 fF.) 
 
 Thus all converges to a love-scene between 
 
252 All for Love ; 
 
 Dolabella and Cleopatra. At their meeting Dola- 
 bella overdoes his part and represents Antony as 
 furious against Cleopatra ; thereupon she can act 
 no more, faints, and when Dolabella tells her the 
 truth, begs him to procure her a meeting with 
 Antony. 
 
 Ventidius brings Octavia, who sees just enough 
 to make her think that Cleopatra is really false to 
 Antony, and Octavia and Ventidkis, when left alone, 
 agree to reveal this to Antony, as a ground for 
 crushing Cleopatra and not including her in the 
 general peace. They think that if Antony believes 
 Cleopatra inclined to Dolabella, he will abandon her 
 finally; while Alexas thinks that jealousy will revive 
 Antony's love. Ventidius and Octavia tell their 
 story to Antony, who is furious and incredulous, to 
 the disgust of Octavia. Alexas, putting himself in 
 the way, is seized by Ventidius and ' compelled ' to 
 confirm the truth of Ventidius' account. Alexas, 
 having his own theory as to the probable effect on 
 Antony — a return to Cleopatra, produced by jealousy, 
 — gives his testimony with pretended unwillingness. 
 The situation is good and well carried through. It 
 ends in the violent dismissal of Alexas, for Antony 
 *can bear no more.' Ventidius Is much delighted, 
 but instantly overthrown by an explosion between 
 Antony and Octavia, followed by the departure of 
 Octavia, to the despair of Ventidius : — 
 
 Oct. So, take my last farewell; for I despair 
 
 To have you whole, and scorn to take you half. 
 
 \Exii\ 
 
or the World JVell Lost 253 
 
 Vent. I combat heav'n, which blasts my best designs : 
 My last attempt must be to win her back ; 
 But O ! I fear, in vain. \Exit\ 
 
 Antony really means to break with Cleopatra, but, 
 as he says, cannot disguise from Octavia what it 
 costs him : — 
 
 Why was I fram'd with this plain, honest heart, 
 
 Which knows not to disguise its griefs and weakness, 
 
 But bears its workings outward to the world? 
 
 I should have kept the mighty anguish in. 
 
 And forc'd a smile at Cleopatra's falsehood: 
 
 Octavia had believ'd it, and had stay'd. 
 
 But I am made a shallow-forded stream, 
 
 Seen to the bottom : all my clearness scorn'd, 
 
 And all my faults expos'd ! (427 ff.) 
 
 Dolabella and then Cleopatra now arrive with 
 their version of the story : the love-scene between 
 them was a transient aberration in the case of Dola- 
 bella and a mere pretence in that of Cleopatra. 
 Antony, of course, does not believe them, and the 
 more they protest, the more is he convinced that 
 there is a plot between them. Here again the 
 situation is good : — 
 
 Dol. If she has wrong'd you, 
 
 Heav'n, hell, and you, revenge it. 
 Ant. If she wrong'd me ! 
 
 Thou wouldst evade thy part of guilt ; but swear 
 
 Thou lov'st not her. 
 Dol. Not so as I love you. 
 
 Ant. Not so ? Swear, swear, I say, thou dost not love her. 
 Dol, No more than friendship will allow. 
 Ant, No more? 
 
 Friendship allows thee nothing; thou art perjur'd — 
 
254 All for Love ; 
 
 And yet thou didst not swear thou lov'dst her not; 
 But not so much, no more. O trifling hypocrite, 
 Who dar'st not own to her, thou dost not love, 
 Nor own to me, thou dost ! Ventidius heard it ; 
 Octavia saw it. 
 
 Cleo. They are enemies. 
 
 Ant. Alexas is not so : he, he confess'd it ; 
 
 He, who, next hell, best knew it, he avow'd it. 
 
 (To Dol.) Why do I seek a proof beyond yourself? 
 You, whom I sent to bear my last farewell, 
 Return'd, to plead her stay. (491 ff.) 
 
 Cleopatra declares that it was she who encouraged 
 Dolabella in order to make Antony jealous and so 
 regain him, but Antony still refuses to believe : — 
 
 Ant Thin cobweb arts of falsehood \ 
 
 Seen, and broke thro' at first. (522 f.) 
 
 Cleopatra wishes to invoke the testimony of Alexas, 
 but Antony very naturally depreciates him as the 
 mere instrument of Cleopatra, and says that he has 
 told the truth already. Then regarding himself as 
 a victim of universal treachery, he bids them go 
 and, if they have any decency, keep apart. Exeunt 
 severally is the good ' curtain ' which concludes this 
 Act. 
 
 Act V 
 
 Between Acts iv and v Caesar's fleet attacks the 
 Egyptian fleet in the harbour of Alexandria, an 
 arrangement, as afterwards appears, having been 
 previously made for the surrender of the Egyptians. 
 The development of events here, if examined, is 
 very obscure, and the * unity of time ' is only vague. 
 
or the IVorld IVell Lost 255 
 
 But the exposition would suffice for an audience ; 
 it is high time for a revolt against Cleopatra. 
 Antony is watching the action from Pharos (58) ; 
 he is not fighting — for what reason is not made clear. 
 The Act opens with Cleopatra and her women. 
 She threatens suicide, struggles with the women 
 who prevent her, and upbraids Alexas with his fatal 
 advice. Alexas still promises to reclaim Antony 
 and is about to seek him at Pharos, when shouts 
 are followed by the announcement of the treachery 
 of the Egyptian fle<^t. Cleopatra enquires about 
 Antony ; he is reported almost mad, believing the 
 treason to be the work of Cleopatra. Alexas offers 
 to go to Caesar, but this proposal Cleopatra rejects 
 with scorn, and insists that he shall face Antony 
 and clear her. Alexas cannot escape ; his extreme 
 terror of death is expressed with good effect, in a 
 short soliloquy intervening between the passionate 
 and rapid scenes before and after : — 
 
 O that I less could fear to lose this being, 
 
 Which, like a snowball in my coward hand, • 
 
 The more 'tis grasp'd, the faster melts away. 
 
 Poor reason ! what a wretched aid art thou ! 
 
 For still, in spite of thee. 
 
 These two long lovers, soul and body, dread 
 
 Their final separation. Let me think: 
 
 What can I say, to save myself from death? 
 
 No matter what becomes of Cleopatra. (131 if.) 
 
 But as his 'gift of lyings gone, and this court 
 devil,' which he has so often raised, has now forsaken 
 him, he leaves the scene at the entrance of Antony 
 and Ventidius. 
 
 V 
 
256 All for Love ; 
 
 Antony and Ventidius still have the command 
 of three legions, and agree that they will lose their 
 lives well in a last fight. Then Alexas, trembling, 
 presents himself, and is almost killed on the spot 
 by Ventidius. Antony however interferes : ' he is 
 not worth killing,' but changes his mind on catching 
 what he takes for a hint that Cleopatra has fled to 
 Dolabella : — 
 
 Ingrateful woman ! 
 Who foUow'd me, but as the swallow summer, 
 Hatching her young ones in my kindly beams, 
 Singing her flatt'ries to my morning wake : 
 But, now my winter comes, she spreads her wings. 
 And seeks the spring of Caesar. (208 ff.) 
 
 Alexas, in agony, flings out a pathetic account of 
 her suicide, to the exultation of Ventidius, but 
 Antony is overwhelmed with grief: — 
 
 Then art thou innocent, my poor dear love? 
 
 And art thou dead? 
 
 O those two words ! their sound should be divided : 
 
 Hadst thou been false and died; or hadst thou liv'd, 
 
 And hadst been true. — But innocence and death ! 
 
 (256 ff.) 
 
 Antony is now resolved to die, and Ventidius 
 refuses to survive him. Antony asks Ventidius to 
 kill him first and then die if he will, and Ventidius 
 deceives Antony, as Eros does in the corresponding 
 scene in Antony and Cleopatra (iv 13), by asking 
 him to turn away and then striking himself instead. 
 Antony, after a few farewell words, falls on his 
 sword, but does not die immediately, and as he is 
 
or the JVorld Well Lost 257 
 
 about to make a second attempt, Cleopatra enters 
 with her women and runs to him : — 
 
 Ant. Art thou living 
 
 Or am I dead before I knew, and thou 
 The first kind ghost that meets me? 
 
 Cleo. Help me seat him. 
 
 Send quickly, send for help ! 
 
 Ant. I am answer'd. 
 
 We live both. Sit thee down my Cleopatra : 
 I'll make the most I can of life, to stay 
 A moment more with thee. (358 ff.) 
 
 The whole scene of the farewell is too long to 
 quote ; Antony says they have had their time : 
 ' ten years' love, And, not a moment lost'; Cleopatra 
 promises to follow quickly, and Antony dies. She 
 sends her women for ' the aspics ' and, when she is 
 alone, speaks her farewell : — 
 
 'Tis sweet to die, when they would force life on me; 
 To rush into the dark abode of Death, 
 And seize him first; if he be like my love, 
 He is not frightful, sure. 
 We're now alone, in secrecy and silence ; 
 And is not this like lovers? I may kiss 
 These pale, cold lips ; Octavia does not see me : 
 And O ! 'tis better far to have him thus, 
 Than see him in her arms. (442 ff.) 
 
 The aspics are brought in, and Cleopatra, after 
 a rhomentary recoil, applies one to her arm and is 
 soon dead. The women, Iras and Charmion, fpllow 
 her example. The Egyptians enter with Alexas 
 bound, and the final tableau is much as in Shake- 
 speare's play, but without the presence of Caesar. 
 
 V. D. 1 7 V 
 
258 All for Love ; 
 
 In all this 'the Monument' (as Shakespeare calls 
 the Mausoleum which Cleopatra had built for her- 
 self and where she had stored her treasure) is appa- 
 rently the scene, but the indications are very vague 
 and any interior room in the Palace might serve the 
 purpose. 
 
 The general course of the fifth Act is thus quite 
 simple and might be anticipated. It is distin- 
 guished by the increased and continuous beauty 
 of the verse, which makes representative selection 
 difficultT Some fine passages have been already 
 quoted, but I must not omit Alexas' description of 
 jealousy when, speaking of Antony and Cleopatra, 
 he says : — 
 
 His heart was never lost, but started off 
 To jealousy, love's last retreat and covert; 
 Where it lies hid in shades, watchful in silence, 
 And list'ning for the sound that calls it back,... 
 
 (49 ff.) 
 
 nor the lament of Serapion after the treachery of 
 
 the fleet :— 
 
 Egypt has been, our latest hour is come : 
 
 The queen of nations, from her ancient seat. 
 
 Is sunk for ever in the dark abyss : 
 
 Time has unroU'd her glories to the last. 
 
 And now clos'd up the volume,... (71 ff.) 
 
 nor the lines spoken by Antony, after he has learnt 
 of Cleopatra's supposed death, when he abandons 
 the idea of farther resistance : — 
 Vent. Would you be taken ? 
 
 '^nt. Yes, I would be taken; 
 
 But, as a Roman ought,— dead, my Ventidius : 
 
or the JVorld JVell Lost 259 
 
 For I'll convey my soul from Caesar's reach, 
 
 And lay down life myself. 'Tis time the world 
 
 Should have a lord, and know whom to obey. 
 
 We two have kept its homage in suspense, 
 
 And bent the globe on whose each side we trod, 
 
 Till it was dinted inwards. Let him walk 
 
 Alone upon 't : I'm weary of my part. 
 
 My torch is out ; and the world stands before me, 
 
 Like a black desart at th' approach of night : 
 
 I'll lay me down, and stray no farther on. (276 ff.) 
 
 It remains to consider several critical questions 
 which arise in connexion with Dryden's play. First, 
 and most obvious, comes the comparison with Shake- 
 speare, a comparison inevitable indeed but not much* 
 to the purpose. The imperial machinery and its 
 remorseless crushing is visible in the larger scale of 
 Antony and Cleopatra but hardly so in All for 
 Love. Nor is the character-drawing of Dryden to 
 be compared with that of Shakespeare. Shake- 
 speare's Cleopatra is really unique, unique in the 
 proper sense of the word : — 
 
 I saw her once 
 Hop forty paces through the public street; 
 And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted, 
 That she did make defect perfection, 
 And, breathless, power breathe forth. 
 
 {A. and C. n 2.) 
 
 So Speaks Enobarbus, but no such thing is imagin- 
 able of Dryden's Cleopatra. With him the whole 
 story is more ordinary ; it is dignified but not 
 gigantic. Nor is this the only difference ; much 
 more might be said on these lines. 
 
 17 — 2 
 
26o All for Love; 
 
 ^j/ But there is character-drawing among the lesser 
 S' i personages in All for Love, in the futile subtlety 
 f joi Alexas, in the well-meant blundering of Ventidius, 
 ^and in the conflict in Dolabella's mind between love 
 ^ j/and honour, a conflict naturally felt — not conven- 
 ^[ tionally represented, as it had been in The Conquest 
 of Granada. 
 
 The plot, as I have more than once indicated 
 in the preceding analysis, is well-constructed. 
 Mr Noyes' criticism seems to me very severe. He 
 writes (Introd. p. xlix) * The action, despite its con- 
 finement within a single day, is, as Aristotle would 
 call it, ** episodic " ; like that of The Conquest of 
 Granada, it deals with successive adventures in the 
 life of one man, not with a central crisis.' To dis- 
 cuss here^ what Aristotle calls ' epeisodic ' and what 
 he means by ' Unity of Action' would take us too 
 far afield ; the essential thing is that the plot ' must 
 imitate one action and that a whole, the structural 
 union of the parts being such that if any one of 
 them is displaced ,or removed, the whole will be 
 disjointed and disturbed' (Aristotle's Poetics, Ch. 
 viii). In Dryden's play, the sequence of scenes is 
 not perhaps necessary, but it is probable, and I do 
 not feel that it can justly be described as 'epeisodic' 
 Then we come to Dryden's own objection con- 
 cerning the introduction of Octavia : — 
 
 The greatest error in the contrivance seems to be in the 
 person of Octavia; for, though I might use the privilege of 
 a poet, to introduce her into Alexandria, yet I had not 
 
 * See above, p. 127. 
 
or the World IVell Lost 261 
 
 enough considered that the compassion she moved to her- 
 self and children was destructive to that which I reserved 
 for Antony and Cleopatra ; whose mutual love, being founded 
 upon vice, must lessen the favour of the audience to them, 
 when virtue and innocence were oppressed by it. And, 
 though I justified Antony in some measure, by making 
 Octavia's departure to proceed wholly from herself; yet the 
 force of the first machine still remained; and the dividing 
 of pity, Hke the cutting of a river into many channels, abated 
 the strength of the natural stream. 
 
 No one, he goes on to say, has urged this objection, 
 but the author did not choose to be * partial to ' 
 himself. Dryden likes to take this attitude, which 
 avoids the appearance of submission. But is the 
 objection he makes to the introduction of Octavia 
 well considered .^ Not all the statements which it 
 suits him to make can be accepted without demur ; 
 we may, for instance, doubt whether he expresses 
 his well-considered opinion when he says that he 
 himself, Shakespeare, and ' the greatest wits of our 
 nation ' were all attracted to the subject of Antony 
 and Cleopatra by 'the excellency of the moral ' — the 
 misfortunes, that is to say, of vice. Nor is his object 
 really to concentrate pity on Antony and Cleopatra, 
 but to show how a long-rooted affection may over- 
 power every consideration on the other side, so as 
 to extinguish even regret for the sacrifice — ' the 
 world well lost.' For this purpose Antony's position 
 must be strong and advantageous ; Octavia is part 
 of this strength and apparently an essential part : 
 without the introduction of Octavia, the plot must 
 have been wholly reconstructed. The advantageous 
 
.262 All for Love ; 
 
 position of Antony at the opening of the play is 
 emphasised : Alexandria is not beleaguered, Ven- 
 tidius still controls twelve legions, and Caesar, 
 notwithstanding some touches at his 'coldness,' is 
 practically assumed to be quite ready for a family 
 reconciliation through the offices of Octavia. 
 
 In the meeting of Octavia and Cleopatra there 
 is certainly no ' French decorum/ This Dryden 
 justifies as follows :— 
 
 The French poets... are strict observers of these punc- 
 tihos : they would not, for example, have suffered Cleopatra 
 and Octavia to have met; or, if they had met, there must 
 only have passed betwixt them some cold civilities, but no 
 eagerness of repartee, for fear of offending against the great- 
 ness of their characters, and the modesty of their sex. This 
 objection I foresaw, and at the same time contemned ; for I 
 judged it both natural and probable that Octavia, proud of 
 her new-gained conquest, would search out Cleopatra to 
 triumph over her ; and that Cleopatra, thus attacked, was 
 not of a spirit to shun the encounter : and 'tis not unlikely 
 that two exasperated rivals should use such satire as I have 
 put into their mouths ; for, after all, though the one were a 
 Roman, and the other a queen, they were both women. 
 
 Scott however appears to disagree with Dryden 
 on this point ; he writes that Octavia's ' scolding- 
 scene with Cleopatra seems too coarse to be in 
 character, and is a glaring exception to the general 
 good taste evinced throughout the rest of the piece.' 
 I must leave the question open for the . reader to 
 d etermine ; to me the scene, though conventional, 
 appears not objectionable. 
 
 The scene between Antony and Ventidius in 
 
or the World IVell Lost 263 
 
 Act I obtained Dryden's own approval : ' I prefer 
 the scene betwixt Antony and Ventidius in the 
 first act to anything which I have written in this 
 kind,' and with this approval the critics have agreed. 
 The interview represents the triumph of an old 
 friendship over violent animosity, a hatred really 
 based in love and passing into it. The scene be- 
 tween Sebastian and Dorax, in the later play of 
 Don Sebastian, is somewhat<~analogous ; it treats of 
 the revenge of a wTonged subject, sought for years, 
 but abandoned, when the opportunity comes, as 
 loyalty and honour prevail. The situation in the 
 scene between Antony and Ventidius suits Dryden's 
 powers, and there is no necessity for fine touches, 
 which were not his forte. , 
 
 Finally let us set side by side for comparison 
 the description of the barge on Cydnus, in the plays 
 of Shakespeare and of Dryden. 
 
 All for Love, Act iii 60 ff. 
 Antony is recalling the scene to Dolabella : — 
 
 Ant To clear herself, 
 
 For sending him no aid, she came from Egypt. 
 
 Her galley down the silver Cydnos row'd, 
 ■ The tackling silk, the streamers wav'd with gold \ 
 
 The gentle winds were lodg'd in purple sails : 
 
 Her nymphs, like Nereids, round her couch were plac'd, 
 
 Where she, anothter sea-born Venus, lay. 
 Dol. No more ; I would not hear it. 
 Ant. O, you must^ 
 
 She lay, and leant her cheek upon her hand, 
 
 And cast a look so languishingly sweet, 
 
264 All for Love; 
 
 As if, secure of all beholders' hearts, 
 
 Neglecting she could take 'em : boys, like Cupids, 
 
 Stood fanning with their painted wings the winds 
 
 That play'd about her face : but if she smil'd, 
 
 A darting glory seem'd to blaze abroad, 
 
 That men's desiring eyes were never wearied, 
 
 But hung upon the object. To soft flutes 
 
 The silver oars kept time ; and while they play'd, 
 
 The hearing gave new pleasure to the sight; 
 
 And both to thought. 'Twas heav'n, or somewhat more : 
 
 For she so charm'd all hearts that gazing crowds 
 
 Stood panting on the shore and wanted breath 
 
 To give their welcome voice. 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra, Act 11 Scene 2. 
 
 Enobarbus is describing the scene to Agrippa: — 
 
 Eno, I will tell you. 
 
 The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, 
 
 Burn'd on the water : the poop was beaten gold ; 
 
 Purple the sails, and so perfumed that 
 
 The winds were love-sick with them : the oars were silver, 
 
 Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke and made 
 
 The water which they beat to follow faster, 
 
 As amorous of their strokes. For her own person. 
 
 It beggar'd all description : she did lie 
 
 In her pavilion, cloth-of-gold of tissue, 
 
 O'er-picturing that Venus where we see 
 
 The fancy outwork nature : on each side her 
 
 Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, 
 
 With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem 
 
 To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool. 
 
 And what they undid did. 
 
 Agr. O, rare for Antony ! 
 
 Em. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, 
 
 So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes. 
 
or the World Well Lost 265 
 
 And made their bends adornings: at the helm 
 A seeming mermaid steers : the silken tackle 
 Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, 
 That yarely frame the office. From the barge 
 A strange invisible perfume hits the sense 
 Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast 
 Her people out upon her; and Antony, 
 Enthron'd i' the market place, did sit alone, 
 Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, 
 Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, 
 And made a gap in Nature. 
 
 In comparing the passages we must remember who 
 is the speaker in each case ; Enobarbus is a more 
 impressive witness than Antony, to whom Dryden 
 has transferred the description. 
 
 Is either passage a very good specimen of its 
 author ? Certainly neither is above criticism. Thus 
 in Shakespeare's Hnes we may take exception to 
 the oars which make the water follow faster * as 
 amorous of their strokes ' ; and to the air which ' but 
 for vacancy, Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, 
 And made a gap in Nature ' ! I am glad also to be 
 rid of* yarely frame the office' and of 'did seem,' 
 * did cool,' ' what they undid did.' But on the other 
 hand we miss the barge 'burn'd on the water' — her 
 person ' beggar'd all description ' — ' tended her i' the 
 eyes' — and the ' invisible perfume.' These touches 
 Dryden seems to have dropped needlessly. 
 y Scott, who compares the two passages, prefets 
 li Dryden for 'the easy flow of the verse, which seenis^ 
 to soften with the subject,' and for the raptured 
 'without hyperbole.' As to the first point, the 
 
266 All for Love ; or the World Well Lost 
 
 softening of the verse with its subject, it should be 
 remembered that Enobarbus is not a lover, whereas 
 Antony is, and so the difference may be justified. 
 
 The reader has before him the material for form- 
 ing a judgement, and I will leave the subject — only 
 noting the characteristic touch in Dryden's descrip- 
 tion, ''twas heav'n, or somewhat more.' 
 
INDEX 
 
 Abingdon, Countess of 17, 221 
 Absalom and Achitophel 2, 6, 17, 
 
 21, 47-91, 98, 142, 151, 161, 
 
 162, 185 
 
 Part II 2, 58, 76, -jl 
 
 Achilleis^ see Statius 
 Aeneid^ see Virgil 
 Aeschylus 121, 123 
 
 Septetn 131 
 
 Akenside 203 
 Albemarle 58, 99, 109 
 Albion and Albanius 105 
 Alexander's Feast /^^ 196-202, 204, 
 
 207 
 
 All for Love 6, 47, 238-266 
 
 An Evening's Love 9 
 
 Annus Mirabilis 3, 15, 29, 47, 48, 
 92, 96-116 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra^ see Shake- 
 speare 
 
 Aristotle 32, 117, 118, ii8n., 132, 
 133, 143 
 
 Poetics 118, 122, 125, 126- 
 
 129, 133, 134, 135, 141, 240,260 
 
 Ashley, Lord 79 
 
 Astraea Redux 20, 57, 69 
 
 At a Solemn Musick, see Milton 
 
 Aubrey 220 
 
 Bacchus 114 
 
 Bacon 31 
 
 Bard, The, see Gray 
 
 Beautiful Lady of the May, The 10 
 
 Berkshire, Earl of 14, 15 
 
 Bethel 82, 84 
 
 Blackmore 44 
 
 Boadicea, see Cowper 
 
 Boccaccio 4, 172 
 
 Bosio 164 
 
 Bossu 117 
 
 Boyle 31 
 
 Buccleugh, Countess of 75 
 Buckingham 40, 59, 61, 81, 82 
 
 Rehearsal 40, 47 
 
 Burnet 25, 149, 169, 173, 174 
 Butcher, Aristotle's Theoiy of 
 
 Poetry and Fine Art 126 n., 
 
 134 
 Butler, Hudibras 81 
 
 Calvin 162 
 
 Camoens, The Lusiad 114 
 
 Castlemaine, Lady 5, 15, see also 
 
 Epistle to 
 Catherine of Aragon 168 
 Cato 35, 36, 37 
 Cecilia, St [91, 201 
 Charles I 7, 19, 20, 45, 49, 50, 95, 
 
 115, 148, 203 
 Charles II 6, 20, 38, 53, 56, 57, 68, 
 
 71,73,78, 108, 156, 157, 186 
 Charleton, see Epistle to 
 Charlton 15, 107 
 Chaucer 3, 5, 23, 154, 172 
 Christ 96, 114, 153, 228 
 Christ's Nativity, On the Morning 
 
 of see Milton 
 Christie 12, 21, 73 n., iii, 150, 164 
 Cock and the Fox, The 4 
 Coleman 152 
 Coleridge 4 
 
 Ode to France 214 
 
 Collier, Jeremy 42, 191 
 Collins 4 
 
 Ode on the Passiofts 209-210 
 
 Collins, Prof. J. Churton 71,72, 87 
 Compton, Bishop of London 88 
 Congreve 24, 25, see also Epistle 
 
 to 
 Conquest of Granada, The 240, 
 
 260 ^ 
 
 Comeille 117 ^ 
 
268 
 
 Index 
 
 Coronation of Charles 11^ Poem 
 
 on the 20 
 Country and the City Mouse, The 
 
 160, 169 
 Cowley 7, 8, 180-182, 232, 233 
 
 Chris fs Passion 182 
 
 Ode in Praise of Pindar 7, 
 
 181, 182 
 
 Cowper, Boadicea 176 
 Cromwell 19, 41, in 
 Cromwell^ Stanzas to the Memory 
 of Oliver 16, 41, 92-95 
 
 Danby 37, 89 
 
 Dante 38, 237 
 
 Davenant, Gondibert 92 
 
 Denham 28 
 
 Discourse concertiing the Original 
 
 and Progress of Satire^ see 
 
 Satire 
 Dolben, Dean of Westminster 88 
 Donne 106 
 
 Ascension 106 n. 
 
 Do7i Sebastian 149, 263 
 
 Preface to 144 
 
 Dorset, Earl of 18, 131 
 Dramatic Poesy, Defence of an 
 
 Essay of 117, 131, 132, 134, 135, 
 136, 138, 139, 141, 142, 143 
 
 Dr agnatic Poesy, Essay of ^, 15, 
 22, 28, 29, 1 1 7- 1 46, 223 
 
 Driden, John 5, see also Epistle to 
 
 Eclogues, see Virgil 
 Edward I 207 
 Edward IV 50 
 Edward VI 50 
 Eleanor a 17, 221 
 Elegy, see Gray 
 Eliot, G., Middlemarch 140 
 Elizabeth, Queen 50, in 
 Elizabeth, wife of Henry VII, 50 
 Ent 31 
 
 Epistle to Castlemaine, Lady 33- 
 37, 48 
 
 Charleton, Dr 31-33, 34 
 
 Congreve 42 
 
 Driden, fohn 16, 20, 26, 
 
 43-46 
 
 Etherege, Sir George 26, 40 
 
 to Higdon 39-40 
 
 Hoddesdo7i, fohn 26, 27-30 
 
 Epistle to Howard, Sir Robert 
 
 30, 31 
 
 Kneller, Sir Godfrey 41 
 
 Lee 27, 37-38 
 
 Motteux 42-43 
 
 Roscomon, the Earl of, 38- 
 
 39, 41 
 Epistle to the Whigs n, 26 
 Epistles 26-46, 48 
 Epithalamion, see Spenser 
 Etherege, see Epistle to 
 Euripides 36, 121, 126, 131, 136, 
 
 137 
 Bacchae 131 
 
 Hippolytus 128, 129 
 
 Ion 119 
 
 Orestes, 131 
 
 Suppliants, The 123, 124, 
 
 130 
 Euripides the Rationalist 36 
 
 Eables, Preface to the 5, 23, 48, 
 
 117 
 Faerie Queene, see Spenser 
 Fanshawe 114 
 Ferguson 76 
 
 Fielding, Tom fones, 140 
 Firth, Mr, see Christie 
 Forbes 76 
 Fox, Charles 9 
 
 George II 199 
 
 Georgics, see Virgil 
 
 Godfrey, Sir Edmund Berry 71, 72 
 
 Gondibert, see Davenant 
 
 Granada, see Conquest of 
 
 Granville 42 
 
 Gray i, 4, 6, 200, 203 
 
 Bard, The 204, 207-9, 211, 
 
 216 
 
 Elegy in a Country Church- 
 yard 92, 1 1 2 
 
 Ode on the Spring 204 
 
 Progress of Poesy i, 203-7 
 
 Grove 74 
 
 Halifax 53, 89 
 
 Harvey 31 
 
 Hastings, upon the Death of the 
 
 Lord 13 
 Hebron 75-77 
 Henri IV 102, 112 
 
Index 
 
 269 
 
 Henry V, see Shakespeare 
 Henry VI 208 
 Henry VII 50 
 Henry VIII 50, 168 
 Herbert 106 
 
 The Holy Communion \Qky\. 
 
 Whitsunday 106 n. 
 
 Higdon, see Epistle to 
 
 Hind and The Panther^ The 2, 22, 
 51 n., 64, 68 n., 73 n., 84, 147, 
 148, 149, 150, 156-175, 219 
 
 Hoddesdon 26, 27, 29, 30, see also 
 Epistle to 
 
 Sion and Parnassus 27 
 
 Holland, Lord 9 
 
 Homer 36, 232 
 
 Iliad 24 
 
 Horace 26, 59, 60, 61, 108, 176, 180 
 
 Ars Poetica 118 
 
 Howard, Lady Elizabeth 15 
 Howard, Sir Robert 14, 15, 30 
 Howard^ Letter to Sir R. 3, 96, 
 
 97, 100 ; see also Epistle to 
 Hudibras^ see Butler 
 Hyde, Lawrence 89 
 
 Iliad^ see Homer 
 In Memoriam, see Tennyson 
 Intimations of Immortality^ see 
 Wordsworth 
 
 James II 3, 44, 86, 89, 156, 157, 
 158, 170, 171, 173, 174, 187 
 
 James VI of Scotland 50 
 
 James, Duke of York 49, 51, 52, 
 53, 54, 74, 76 
 
 Jebb 211 
 
 Jebusites 71 
 
 Johnson, Dr Samuel 38, 75, 147, 
 165, 187 
 
 Life of Roscomon 38 
 
 Junius II 
 
 Juvenal 18, 39, 59, 60, 61 
 
 Ker, Professor 117, 119, 138, 142 
 Killigrew, Anne 187 
 Killigrew^ Ode to the Pious 
 Memory of Mrs A nne 1 86- 1 9 1 
 Kneller, see Epistle to 
 
 Labiche, Le Chapeau de Paille 
 d^Italie 124 
 
 Laud 149 
 
 Lee 27, 37, 57, 234, see also 
 Epistle to 
 
 The Rival Queens 27 
 
 Louis XIV 8, 71, 112, 243, 244 
 Lowell, My Study Windows loi n. 
 Lucan 3, 36, 100 
 
 Pharsalia 98, 100 
 
 Lucretius 195 n, 232 
 Lusiad^ The^ see Camoens 
 Lycidas^ see Milton 
 
 Macaulay 17, 22, 147, 171 n., 174, 
 244 
 
 Mr G. C. 112 n. 
 
 Macbeth^ see Shakespeare 
 Mac Flecknoe 2 
 
 Mary, Princess 37, 51, 53 
 
 Mary, Queen 50, 51 
 
 Mary, wife of James II 187 
 
 Maud, see Tennyson 
 
 Medal, The 2, 11, 12, 19, 26, 62 
 
 Middlemarch, see Eliot 
 
 Middleton 40 
 
 Milton I, 3, 18, 22, 23, 55, 61, 70, 
 
 185, 194, 220, 225, 226, 227, 230, 
 
 231, 234 
 
 At a Solemn Musick 183, 
 
 184, 193 
 
 Lycidas 183 
 
 On the Morning of Chrisfs 
 
 Nativity 176-178, 184, 185, 193 
 
 Paradise Lost 3, 23, 55, 64, 
 
 80, 114, 166, 217-219, 226, 227, 
 228, 229, 230, 233, 234, 235, 236 
 
 Monck, see Albemarle 
 Monmouth, James Duke of 49, 53, 
 54, 55, 56, 57, 62, 68, 70, 71 
 
 Duchess of 75 
 
 Montague 160 
 Motteux, see Epistle to 
 Mufti, The 149 
 Mulgrave 89, 202 
 Murray 39 
 
 Noyes, Mr G. R., Selected Dramas 
 of John Dry den 220 n., 239, 240, 
 242 n., 246, 260 
 
 Gates 52, 63, 72, 74, 82, 85 
 Ode, Development of English 
 176-216 
 
270 
 
 Index 
 
 Ode in Praise of Pindar^ see 
 
 Cowley 
 Oldha7n^ Lines to the Memory of 
 
 Orange, see William 
 Ormond, Duke of 88 
 Ossory, Earl of 88 
 Othello^ see Shakespeare 
 Ovid 3, 97, 108 
 
 Metamorphoses 113 
 
 Oxford^ Prologue to the Uni- 
 versity of see Prologue 
 
 Pala7non and Arcite 4, 142 
 Paradise Lost, see Milton 
 Passions^ Ode on the, see Collins 
 Persius 59 
 Petrarch 38 
 Petre 171 
 
 Pharsalia, see Lucan 
 Pickering 74 
 
 Mary 13 
 
 Pindar 7, 176, 180 
 
 Epinikia 176 
 
 Pindar, Ode in Praise of see 
 
 Cowley 
 Plautus 137 
 Plutarch 24 
 Plutarch, Life of i^ 
 Poetics, see Aristotle 
 Pope 5, 28, 38, 39 
 
 Epistles 38, 39 
 
 Prior 160 
 
 Progress of Poesy, see Gray 
 Prologue to the University of 
 
 0:!^ord 14 
 Purcell 202 
 Purcell, Ode to the Memory of 
 
 202-3 
 
 Racine, Andromaqtie 140, 141 
 Randolph, Ode to Master Anthony 
 
 Stafford 1 79 
 Rapin 117 
 
 Rehearsal, see Buckingham 
 Richard II 208 
 Religio Laid 2, 20, 22, 39, 68 n., 
 
 84, 147-156, 219 
 Rival Ladies, The 103 
 Rosabelle, see Scott 
 Roscomon 38, 39, see Epistle 
 
 to 
 
 Roscomon, Essay on Translated 
 
 Verse 38 
 Roscomon, Life of, see Johnson 
 Rupert, Prince 99 
 
 St Cecilia's Day, Odes for 4, 6, 2 1 5 
 St Cecilids Day, Song for 23, 185, 
 
 190, 191-196, 205, 209 
 Saint-Simon 244 n. 
 Saintsbury, Professor 12, 84, 147, 
 
 156, 246 
 
 Life of Dry den 12, 84, 222 
 
 Sancroft, Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury 88 
 
 Satire, Discourse concerning the 
 
 Original and Progress of iS, 
 
 23, 40, 60, 61, 81, 230 
 Scott I, 12, 33, 35, 40, 57, 75, III, 
 
 147, 188, 189,225,233,246,262, 
 
 265 
 
 Rosabelle 176 
 
 Lay of the Last Minstrel 75 
 
 Session of the Poets 33 
 
 Settle 2, 58 
 
 Seymour, Sir Edward 89 
 
 Shadwell 2, 58 
 
 Shaftesbury, First Earl of 21, 52, 
 
 54, 56, 58, 59, 62, 63, 64, 74, 78, 
 
 105 
 
 Second Earl of 79 
 
 Third Earl of 78 
 
 Shakespeare i, 22, 24, 28, 47, 106, 
 
 136, 142, 207 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra 47, 
 
 238, 240, 248, 256, 257, 258, 259, 
 261, 263-266 
 
 Henry V 122 
 
 Macbeth 133, 140, 141 
 
 Othello 133 
 
 Tempest, The 24, 231, 232 
 
 Winter's Tale, The 122, 124, 
 
 140 
 
 Sion and Parnassus, see Hoddes- 
 
 don 
 Sophocles 121, 126, 137, 138 
 
 Ajax 125, 129 
 
 Trachiniae 131 
 
 Spanish Friar, The 149 
 Spenser 61 
 
 Epithalamion 178-179 
 
 Faerie Queene, The 55 
 
 Spring, Ode on the, see Gray 
 
Index 
 
 271 
 
 Stafford^ Ode to Master A., see 
 
 Randolph 
 State of Innocence^ The 27, 37, 57, 
 
 148, 150,217-237 
 Statius, Achilleis 30 
 
 Silvae 98 
 
 Stillingfleet 157, 168 
 Swinburne 210, 216 
 
 Tempest^ see Shakespeare 
 Tennyson i, 4 
 
 Maud 214-215 
 
 In Memoriam 188 
 
 Ode on the Death of the 
 
 Duke of Wellington 214 
 
 Terence 137 
 
 Theodore and Honoria 4, 6 
 Threnodia Augustalis6, 93, 186-7 
 Tom fones^ see Fielding 
 Tonson, 'Key' of 71, 76 
 Tyrannic Love 150, 219 
 
 Preface to 102, 148 
 
 'Unities,' The 117-141 
 
 Virgil 3, 30, 44, 97, 104, 108 
 
 Aeneid 30, 97, 172, 232, 233 
 
 Eclogue /F 91 
 
 Georgics 98, 195 n. 
 
 Waller 28, 115 
 
 Wellington^ Ode on the Death of 
 
 the Duke of see Tennyson 
 Whigs, see Epistle to the 
 
 Wild Gallant, The 33 
 
 William III 43, 45 
 
 William of Orange 38, 51, 174, 
 
 244 n. 
 William the Silent 102, iii, 112 
 
 Winter^s Tale, see Shakespeare 
 Wordsworth i, 4 
 
 Intimations of Immortality, 
 
 etc. 21 1-2 14, 215 
 
 York, Duchess of 'J'J, 219-221, 230 
 
 Duke of, see James 
 
 Young 196-199 
 
 Oceait 196-198 
 
 Ode to the King 196-199 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 
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