THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN BY MARK VAN DOREN NEW YORK HARCOURT, BRACE AND HOWE 1920 COPYRIGHT, 1920, BT HABCOURT, BRACE AND HOWE, INC. Stack Annex TO CARL VAN DOREN IRITA VAN DOREN PREFACE This is an effort to brighten the most neglected side of the greatest neglected English poet. There is some novelty, I hope, in a treatment on an ex- tended and more or less enthusiastic scale of Dry- den's non-dramatic verse as a body, with attention to the celebrator, the satirist, the journalist, the singer, and the story-teller all together. No justifi- cation will be required, probably, for my interest in a poetic personality always important and never more freshly so than now. The essay owes much to my brother, Carl Van Doren, whose idea it largely was and whose immense resources of encouragement were always at my com- mand. My sister, Irita Van Doren, assisted cheer- fully with certain details. Professor W. P. Trent brought his scholarship to bear upon the book, along with an old and well-considered fondness for the poetry under discussion. Professor A. H. Thorn- dike and Professor J. B. Fletcher made valuable suggestions for improving the manuscript. It is an especial pleasure to acknowledge favors received in England, where I spent some months as a fellow from Columbia University. The officials of the British Museum were courteous in all respects. Sir Arthur Dryden of Canons Ashby was hospitable and variously helpful. Mr. Percy L. Babington of Cambridge University was most liberal with his vi PREFACE information concerning John Oldham. I have been pleasantly in debt from the first to Professor Saints- bury, who has lost no opportunity in forty years for speaking well of Dryden, and whose spirited mono- graph in the English Men of Letters I could only expect to supplement. For talks on Dryden and other subjects I am happy to remember my travel- ling companion, Joseph Wood Krutch. MARK VAN DOREN. CONTENTS Page I. THE MAKING OF THE POET I II. FALSE LIGHTS 39 III. THE TRUE FIRE 86 IV. THE OCCASIONAL POET 137 V. THE JOURNALIST IN VERSE 178 VI. THE LYRIC POET 219 VII. THE NARRATIVE POET 260 VIII. REPUTATION: CONCLUSION 292 APPENDIX: The Authorship of Mac Flecknoe, . . . 339 INDEX 351 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN THE MAKING OF THE POET The world has not been inclined to make way for John Dry den the poet. When he died in 1700, the generalissimo of English verse, it seemed certain to the survivors that the momentum of his name would keep his works forever rolling abreast of the generations. But before a single century had passed, he had begun to live rather in the stiffness than in the strength of his eminence; and another century saw him laid carefully away among the heroes. Since Dryden was laid away, the world has not been exactly incurious about his tarnished remains. It was the fashion a hundred years ago to classify the poets, and level them into orders; at such times Dryden was likely to be sent with Pope to seek the second level. The nineteenth century, anxious to know what past poets had been great and why, sounded Dryden to the depths for notes which it could recognize; Lowell went eagerly through him, thinking to decide once for all how much of a poet he was, and revising his judgment at every tenth 2 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN page. Latterly the critics with historical bent and eclectic taste have been busy either at placing Dry- den in time or at explaining his imperfections by an appeal to the shortcomings of the audience for which he wrote. This tasting and this research have done much to lay bare huge flaws and inequalities hi the surface which Dryden presented to posterity. Little has been done in the way of exploring the large spirit which worked beneath that surface, or in surveying other surfaces less conspicuous. The embattled seventeenth century left a number of bruised and defective monuments, none of which is more engaging than the poetry of John Dryden. The story of Dry den's poetry is the story of a sin- ewy mind attacking bulky materials. Since we know next to nothing about Dryden's mind before it ripened, the story naturally begins for us with the materials which are known to have lain at hand dur- ing the years of his growth. The thirty years, from 1631 to 1660, during which Dryden came slowly to his maturity, saw many slender volumes of fine verse published in England, the work of Milton, Herbert, Randolph, Carew, Suckling, Lovelace, Crashaw, Vaughan, and Herrick. Yet after Ben Jonson no one poetic per- sonality was dominant in these years, and there flowed no current powerful enough to draw young writers in. Of the nine poets who have just been named, six had done their work in comparative iso- lation, and the other three had been content to toss off courtly trifles. Dryden is temperamentally akin to none of them, and it is unlikely that they THE MAKING OF THE POET 3 impressed him in his youth; although it must be remembered that his first considerable poem, the Heroic Stanzas of 1659, contains in the thirty-fifth stanza a faint echo of Milton's Ode on the Morning of Christ's Nativity: But first, the Ocean, as a tribute, sent That Giant-Prince of all her watery herd; And th' isle, when her protecting Genius went, Upon his obsequies loud sighs conferred. Other poets, past and present, he gradually became acquainted with before 1660. Jonson must always have been to an extent congenial. Chaucer, Spenser, and Shakespeare he was not prepared so early to admire. But by Sylvester he was "rapt into ec- stasy"; and Quarles and Wither furnished him thin nourishment. There were hundreds of plays to be read. He was not ignorant of Fairfax's transla- tion of Tasso. Soon or late he came to know Michael Drayton, whose label for Samuel Daniel, "too much historian in verse," Dryden adopted for Lucan in the preface to Annus Mirabilis; and whose apostrophe to Daniel, And thou, the sweet Musseus of these times, Pardon my rugged and unfiled rhymes, curiously anticipates Dryden's own verses in honor of John Oldham. We may be certain that he read an abundance of very bad poetry in his green, unknowing youth. Professor Saintsbury has shown that he was acquainted with Edward Benlowes, almost the worst poet England has pro- 4 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN duced. The poems of William Cartwright which were collected in 1651 include, among some respec- table complimentary pieces, two on smallpox which if seen by Dryden before 1649 could have inspired his unhappy effusion on Lord Hastings. The " Cleve- landisms " which Lisideius damns in the Essay of Dramatic Poesy in 1668 probably were not anathema to Dryden a dozen years before. Had Dryden never indulged in more than random reading among the poets, it is safe to say that he would never himself have become a poet of dimen- sions. No one was better aware of what he needed to read than he. ''Mere poets," he wrote in the postcript to the Notes and Observations on the Empress of Morocco (1674), "are as sottish as mere drunkards are, who live in a continual mist, without seeing or judging anything clearly. A man should be learned in several sciences, and should have a reasonable, philosophical, and in some measure a mathematical head, to be a complete and excellent poet; and besides this, should have experience in all sorts of humours and manners of men. . . . Mr. Settle having never studied any sort of learning but poetry, ... as you may find by his writings, . . . ; must make very lame work on 't." Although Dry- den was speaking here of dramatic poets, it is fair to accept these sentences as trustworthy guides through the twists and turns of his culture. "For my own part, who must confess it to my shame, ... I never read anything but for pleasure," he declared in the Life of Plutarch (1683). But pleasure for him meant the satisfying of intellec- THE MAKING OF THE POET 5 tual curiosity as well as it meant diversion; from the beginning, there can be no doubt, he was pleased to read widely and was avid of informa- tion. "He's a man of general learning," sneered Settle. Dryden was not an exact or patient scholar, nor was he obsessed with the pedantry that had produced works like Burton's Anatomy of Melan- choly earlier in the century. Although he loved learning and argument and could not refrain from literary history and criticism, although he loaded his poems with science and mythology and theol- ogy, he was never weighed down with learned lumber. In the Rehearsal he is represented with a common-place book in his hand from which he is ever drawing the happiest images and sentences of Persius, Seneca, Horace, Juvenal, Claudian, Pliny, Plutarch, and Montaigne. Though this may not be a true likeness, it brings into relief a bent of Dryden's which must have been apparent early in his career. Congreve records that he had an un- failing memory, and Dr. Johnson was inclined to attribute his large stock of information rather to "accidental intelligence and various conversa- tion" than to diligent and solitary reading. How- ever he may have come by his lore, he came by it eagerly, at a time when the old was mingling with the new, and all the surfaces of knowledge were being broken rapidly into fresh forms. It is not known exactly when Dryden entered Westminster School, or in detail what he did there. But a good deal is known, both generally about the character of English schools in those days and 6 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN particularly about the character of Dryden's mas- ter, Busby. The English grammar schools before the Restoration clung to the old omnibus ideals of education which stressed the encyclopedic and the sententious. For a century Latin had led in the school curriculums, supplanting logic. Wolsey had advised that Virgil be "pronounced with due intona- tion of voice," out of regard for "the majesty of his verse," and during the first half of the seven- teenth century the discipline in Latin was espe- cially complete. Exercises in Greek received for the most part only secondary emphasis, although Westminster School was famous for its Greek stud- ies, three different head-masters, Grant, Camden, and Busby, having produced Greek grammars. Charles Hoole, in his New Discoverie of the Old Art of Keeping Schools, 1660, furnishes the best testi- mony we have upon mid-century curriculums. Ac- cording to him, boys began very early to trans- late English verse into Latin, keeping notebooks by them wherein they entered choice classical phrases to assist them in avoiding Anglicisms. The "figura" and "prosodia" of rhetoric were by no means neglected, and for a show of wisdom the pupils were taught to embellish their themes with apologues, fables, adages, "witty sentences" an- cient or modern, hieroglyphics, emblems, sym- bols, ancient laws and customs, and biographical illustrations out of Plutarch. Dr. Richard Busby of Westminster was the most famous schoolmaster of the century; during his fifty-seven years of in- cumbency Westminster produced more notable THE MAKING OF THE POET 7 men than any other school has produced in a hun- dred. When Dryden published his translation of Persius in 1693, he dedicated the fifth Satire to Dr. Busby, "to whom I am not only obliged myself for the best part of my own education, and that of my two sons, but have also received from him the first and truest taste of Persius"; and be- fore the third Satire he remarked, "I remember I translated this Satire, when I was a King's scholar at Westminster School, for a Thursday night's exercise." Some notion of the school discipline in Dryden's day may be gained from the account left by another of Dr. Busby's boys. "Betwixt one to three, that lesson which, out of some author appointed for that day, had been by the Master expounded into them (out of Cicero, Virgil, Homer, Euripides; Isocrates; Livie, Sallust, etc.) was to be exactlie gone through by construing and other grammatical waies, examining all the rhetorical figures and translating it out of verse into prose, or out of prose into verse; out of Greek into Latin; or out of Latin into Greek. Then they were en- joined to commit that to memorie against the next morning." 1 It was Coleridge's belief that the whole tone of Augustan poetry in England was derived from such academic practices as these, which freighted the styles of many generations of schoolboys with conventional imagery and stereotyped epithets. Certainly it was under Busby that Dryden con- 1 Barker, G. F. R., Memoir of Richard Busby, D. D. London, 1895, p. 80. 8 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN tracted the Latinism of thought and speech which proved later both a blessing and a curse. His Lat- inism helped him to be clear and strong, as he in- dicated in his dedication of Troilus and Cressida: "I am often put to a stand in considering whether what I write be the idiom of the tongue, or false grammar, and nonsense couched beneath that specious name of Anglicism; and have no other way to clear my doubts, but by translating my English into Latin, and thereby trying what sense the words will bear in a more stable language." But his Latinism also encouraged him to write too much in that diffuse manner which so ludicrously vitiated the verse of the next century. When he was not at his raciest, for instance, he could write lines like these from Britannia Rediviva: As when a sudden storm of hail and rain Beats to the ground the yet unbearded grain, Think not the hopes of harvest are destroyed On the flat field, and on the naked void; The light unloaded stem, from tempest freed, Will raise the youthful honours of his head; And, soon restored by native vigour, bear The timely product of the bounteous year. If Westminster offered a style, Cambridge be- stowed the broader gifts of taste and thought. Dryden entered Trinity College in 1650 and stayed at least four years. It is at this point that Au- brey's note in his Minutes of Lives, "John Drey- den, esq., Poet Laureate. He will write it for me himselfe," most tantalizes. From 1654 to the THE MAKING OF THE POET 9 death of Cromwell we know nothing about Dry- den; but we may suppose that somewhere he pri- vately read and wrote to advantage during those years, since the Heroic Stanzas reveal a mind al- ready careful and full. From nineteen to twenty- eight Dryden was a student; and it is important to know what he learned. "I am, ridiculously enough, accused to be a con- temner of universities;" he told Sir Charles Sedley in the dedication of The Assignation in 1673, "that is, ... an enemy of learning; without the founda- tion of which, I am sure, no man can pretend to be a poet." Shadwell swore in his Medal of John Bayes (1682) that Dryden "came first to Town" when "a raw young fellow of seven and twenty"; which seems to indicate that the poet remained in resi- dence either at the university or with his Round- head relatives at Tichmarsh for four years after 1654. The Reverend Dr. Crichton, however, a contemporary at Cambridge, was warrant for another story: "he stayed to take his Bachelor's degree, but his head was too roving and active, or what else you'll call it, to confine himself to a col- lege life, and so he left it and went to London into gayer company, and set up for a poet." 1 What- ever the impatience with which he went to Lon- don, he took many an occasion in later years to pay beautiful compliments to the universities. In the Life of Plutarch he duly acknowledged his debt to Trinity College. And his prologues and epi- logues at Oxford are luxuriant with praise of the 1 W. D. Christie. Selections from Dryden. zd ed. Oxford, 1873, p. xvi. io THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN place. Mrs. Marshall addressed an audience there in 1674 as follows: Oft has the poet wished this happy seat Might prove his fading Muse's last retreat: I wondered at his wish, but now I find He sought for quiet, and content of mind; Which noiseful towns and courts can never know, And only in the shades, like laurels, grow. Youth, ere it sees the world, here studies rest, And age, returning thence, concludes it best. Another university prologue ended with the famous lines: 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. During Dryden's residence at Cambridge the university was under the thumb of the Puritans, who in 1644 had evicted all Royalist tutors. The old academic peace suffered less disturbance than might have been expected. The discipline even improved, and solid progress continued to be made in philosophy and science. It was here at least that Dryden proceeded to widen his acquaint- ance with the Latin poets, to store his mind with the old scholastic forms of speculation and dis- course, to become aware of the new trend and the new processes, to dabble in natural science, to read Descartes and Hobbes. The same observer who saw Dryden dash off to London to set up for a poet declares that while THE MAKING OF THE POET n still at Cambridge "he had to his knowledge read over and very well understood all the Greek and Latin poets." A faith then reigned that the clas- sics were a sufficient and final compendium of wis- dom, eloquence, and beauty. Addison was not for fifty years yet, writing home from Virgil's Italy, to found a more or less flushed worship of Greece and Rome. The homage of the mid-seven- teenth century was somewhat dry, and paid from a distance. Dryden accepted his Greeks and- Romans without question, but also without hot sen- timent. William Gifford, springing once to the defense of Ben Jonson, asserted that "Dryden had merely the Greek and Latin of a clever schoolboy." Dry- den had more than that. He not only knew his poets; he enormously respected them, and used them. His opinions of them were likely to be the traditional opinions that Scaliger's brilliant criticism had made standard. But he employed them for purposes quite his own. His Greek was not half so good as his Latin. His examples from Greek life are very few; he fell back upon Latin texts of Homer and Theocritus, and he knew Long- inus only through the French of Boileau, or per- haps the English of John Hall. He preferred the severer muses of the Romans, he said, to "the looseness of the Grecians." He shared here the bias of his age; the Augustans were Augustans, not Hellenes. His "old master Virgil" was never al- lowed to go so long as a year without the tribute of praise or imitation. Any one who reads the pref- 12 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN aces to Annus Mirabilis and the folio of 1697 can- not remain in doubt what Latin poet was Dry den's lifelong dictator. From another master, Lucre- tius, Dryden learned the secret architecture of reasoned verse; learned to run swiftly yet carry heavy weights; learned his favorite images of dark- ness and light, eclipse and chaos, ordered atoms and whirling worlds. In a third master, Ovid, whom he says he read in Sandys' translation when a boy, he found a sparkling mind inferior to the other two, but one that fascinated him. Ovid, the favorite of Chaucer and Spenser and Shakespeare and Milton, the purveyor of mythological lore to every English poet, the "sweet witty soul" who was at once tender and mocking, at once flexible and hard, at once allusive and brisk, taught Dry- den his gait, and showed him how to turn all the sides of his mind to the light. For the first twenty years after the Restoration Dryden's London was to reproduce with a certain amount of accuracy the Rome of Ovid. With civil war just past and a commonwealth overthrown, with court and city beginning to realize their power, with peace pre- vailing and cynicism in fashionable morals ram- pant, with a foreign culture seeking the favor of patrons and wits, the new city did for a while bear a strange resemblance to the old Empire; so that the vogue of Ovid in those years is not difficult to understand. Juvenal and Persius lent their larger, angrier tones to Dryden at Cambridge. Nor was Dryden indifferent to the curiosa felic- itas of Horace; but he was not equipped, as Ben THE MAKING OF THE POET 13 Jonson and Herrick were, to achieve anything like it in practice. He knew Lucan's busy epic and Seneca's bloody plays, and he was fond in later life of paraphrasing Statius on sleep. The follow- ing soliloquy on night, from the Indian Emperor, which Wordsworth correctly called "vague, bom- bastic and senseless," has often been quoted by incautious admirers of Dryden in a misdirected effort to prove that he could do justice to Nature: All things are hushed, as Nature's self lay dead; The mountains seem to nod their drowsy head; The little birds in dreams their songs repeat, And sleeping flowers beneath the night-dew sweat. Even lust and envy sleep; yet love denies Rest to my soul, and slumber to my eyes. The lines come straight from Statius' Sylvce. Dryden was rarely successful in his descriptions of Nature and his accounts of the human passions, as we shall see in another place. What data he did possess upon these subjects he had borrowed, not very happily, from the classical poets. He had learned from Sappho, according to Addison, that persons in love alternately burn and freeze. He had learned from Virgil that in sudden fright the knees tremble and the breath deserts the frame. He had learned from Lucretius the terminology of physical love. He contracted from them all his taste for dealing in blood and hardness and cruelty. But what more deeply affected him than this was the tradition of Roman virtue, male virtue, which he found recited so admirably in the ancient his- 14 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN tories. "When we hear this author speaking," he says of Polybius, "we are ready to think ourselves engaged in a conversation with Cato the Censor, with Lelius, with Massinissa, and with the two Scipios; that is, with the greatest heroes and most prudent men of the greatest age in the Roman commonwealth. This sets me ... on fire." His dedications are replete with Roman examples, and tempered with a rare Augustan awe, as here in the dedication of An Evening's Love to the Duke of Newcastle: Thus, my Lord, the morning of your life was clear and calm; and though it was afterwards overcast, yet, in that general storm, you were never without a shelter. And now you are happily arrived to the evening of a day as serene as the dawn of it was glorious; but such an even- ing as, I hope, and almost prophesy, is far from night. 'Tis the evening of a summer's sun, which keeps the day- light long within the skies. The health of your body is maintained by the vigour of your mind: neither does the one shrink from the fatigue of exercise, nor the other bend under the pains of study. Methinks I behold in you another Caius Marius, who, in the extremity of his age, ex- ercised himself almost every morning in the Campius Mar- tius, amongst the youthful nobility of Rome. And after- wards in your retirements, when you do honour to poetry by employing part of your leisure in it, I regard you as another Silius Italicus, who, having passed over his con- sulship with applause, dismissed himself from business, and from the gown, and employed his age amongst the shades, in the reading and imitation of Virgil. It was in these spacious precincts that Dryden's imagination was most at home; in this distant and THE MAKING OF THE POET 15 mellow morality Declarations of Indulgence and Test Acts were intrusive trifles, and the neces- sity of choosing between a James and a William but a dwarfish dilemma. "The old and the new philosophy" was a phrase often on the lips of Dryden and his contempora- ries. The seventeenth century, from Bacon to Locke, saw many inroads made by the new phys-\ ics and the new psychology upon established modes of faith and behavior. At no period dur- *>h. t ing the century was the shift being made more rapidly than it was in the sixth decade, when Dry- den lived at Cambridge. Dryden, witnessing the unequal conflict between scholasticism and ex- perimental science, between formal logic and com- mon sense, may not have comprehended all that was being done. There is no sign that he had un- usual gifts for recognizing or criticising ideas; he was not a metaphysician; yet he must have been aware of being present at a death. It was the scholas- tic habit of thinking and discoursing that was dy- ing; it was the disputation that was going out. As far back as the days when James I delighted to attend the disputations at Cambridge, disputa- tions had been archaic. And Thomas Randolph, who studied at Trinity College thirty years before Dryden, could only praise the Aristotelianism of his instruction as something quaint. The medie- val tradition lingered on, however, and Dryden was still able to look upon the ruins of those "Vast Bodies of Philosophic" irreverently invoked by Cowley in his poem To Mr. Hobbes. To Dryden the 16 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN hoary structures were not without their charm, and he did not pass them by without making them yield the secrets of their form, however little he cared for the dubious treasures of their content. He retained to the last a touch of the scholas- tic in his method of framing thoughts and arriving at distinctions. Upon more than one occasion he showed himself familiar with the language of the schools, even the jargon. "He delighted to talk of liberty and necessity, destiny and contingence," said Dr. Johnson. He had only the medieval idiom for soul and body at his commandj The famous lines on Shaftesbury's . . . fiery soul, which, working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-informed the tenement of clay, are tinctured with scholasticism; and Dryden's inveterate attachment to the image of circles, whether in the poem on Lord Hastings (11. 27- 28), in the Heroic Stanzas (11. 17-20), in Astraa Redux (1. 299), in The Hind and the Panther (III, 1. 19), or in Eleanor a (1. 273), betrays the fas- cination which the ancient forms exercised over his imagination. Finally, it was from the schools, from the disputation, that Dryden learned to love argument and ratiocination. Swift called The Hind and the Panther "a complete abstract of six- teen thousand schoolmen, from Scotus to Bellar- mine." Here again it was form, not content, that Dryden enriched himself with. His arguments often are not without serious flaw; but his manner THE MAKING OF THE POET 17 is impeccable. He discovered which gestures con- vince; he acquired "the air of proving something." Like Ovid in the rhetorical schools of Rome, learn- ing to ring infinite changes on a theme in suasoria and controversies^ Dryden by study and by in- stinct developed an unexampled power, so far as English poetry goes, of handling and turning over ideas and beating them into shape with the scant- lings of logic. "The new philosophy," meanwhile, with its new outlook brought a new language; and always it was language that interested Dryden. Since Milton's days at Cambridge there had come definite inno- vations. Theology was being rationalized, Ramus and Bacon and Descartes were replacing Aristotle,* mathematics and natural science were in the as- cendant. The unwieldly amalgam of sixteenth cen- tury natural history was yielding to the attacks of specialists in physics, chemistry, and anatomy. Harvey, Ent, and Ward were publishing the re- sults of their researches. Definite curiosity about sensible problems seemed in the way of being satis- fied. Lowell thought science "the most obstinately prosy material." Yet the new science was far from dull to Dryden and his kind. No laborious termin- ology chilled their ardor and blunted their curios- ity, or forbade them to incorporate the new world in their conversation and their writing. Not that they were the first to make use of the material. Donne had found science a brighter ornament for verse than hackneyed mythology. Milton was al- 1 8 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN ready ruminating upon the cosmic bearings of as- tronomy, geography, and chemistry. But they were the first to play exultantly with both the new spirit and the new language. They were frankly dilettanti. The game was expression, and the chase was for metaphors. When Dryden in the State of InnQ&nce has Adam awake from his bed oT moss and cry, What am I? or from whence? For that I am I know, because I think, he does not convince us that he knows more than three words of Descartes. His astronomy is con- fused; he mixes the Roman poets with the Cam- bridge cosmologists ; he has no system. There can be no honest doubt that he took a good deal of stock in astrology; among the papers at Oxford of Elias Ashmole, the great virtuoso and curioso, are to be found nativities of Dryden and his eldest son, carefully cast. At the close of his life he wrote to his sons at Rome, ''Towards the latter end of this month, September, Charles will begin to recover his perfect health, according to his nativity, which, casting it myself, I am sure is true; and all things hitherto have happened accordingly to the very time that I predicted them." He was not a scien- tist. Yet he picked up the new language, and adopted the new airs; he established what Ma- caulay named "the scientific vocabulary" in verse. Not long after he went to London, and before he had won any notice by his writing at all, in 1662^ 19 lie was made a member of the newly chartered Royal Society. The next year he was laying hon- est Aristotle by with some verses addressed to Dr. Charleton, who had written a book on Stonehenge; The longest tyranny that ever swayed Was that wherein our ancestors betrayed Their free-born reason to the Stagirite, And made his torch their universal light. In the same poem he celebrated the innovations of Bacon, Gilbert, Boyle, Harvey, and Ent. Three years later he inserted an apostrophe to the Royal Society in his Annus Mirabilis, and put into the mouth of Crites in the Essay of Dramatic Poesy this query: "Is it not evident, in these last hun- dred years, . . . that almost a new Nature has been revealed to us? that more errors of the School have been detected, more useful experiments in philosphy have been made, more noble secrets in optics, medicine, anatomy, astronomy, discovered, than in all those credulous and doting ages from Aristotle to us?" The new mechanical conception of nature bore bitter fruit in the domain of psychology and polit- ical science, where the astounding Hobbes held sway. It seemed to Samuel Butler and others with less humor that the Sage of Malmesbury, though he might conquer the Kingdom of Dark- ness in a way to satisfy himself, would end by ex- tinguishing all the light which the remainder of mankind enjoyed. As Donne had exclaimed in the Anatomy of the World, 20 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN [The] new philosophy calls all in doubt; The element of fire is quite put out; The sun is lost, and th' earth, and no man's wit Can well direct him where to look for it. The deplorable paradoxes about the selfishness of human nature which the tutor of the future Charles II was propounding in the Treatise on Hu- man Nature and the Leviathan during the first two years of Dryden's residence at Cambridge were destined to fascinate many a gilded youth after the Restoration, and even to incline old Bishop Burnet "to be apt to think generally the worst of men and of parties." In the wake of Hobbes came Lucretius, the fa- vorite of Gassendi and Moliere, ... to proclaim in English verse No monarch rules the universe, as Waller politely wrote upon the occasion of Evelyn's translation in 1656. The atoms of Lu- cretius and Ovid became almost the favorite image of poets throughout the century. "Blind chance," "the confused heap of things," "atoms casually together hurled," were phrases that always passed current. The idea of a world left running by it- self was poison to the divines but food for the ver- sifiers. Dry den announced in the preface to Religio Laid that he was "naturally inclined to scepticism in philosophy." Emphasis needs to be placed on the first word in his phrase; he was by disposition rather than by doctrine a sceptic. He thought THE MAKING OF THE POET 21 Hobbes and Lucretius very much alike in a cer- tain "magisterial authority" of utterance. If he bowed to this authority in his earlier years, when he was at college, he was disposed later on to give it no more than casual, good natured recogni- tion. He never altogether capitulated to any sys- tem of politics or morals or aesthetics. He was born and he died with an Olympian indifference to principles. Yet Hobbes and Lucretius both made powerful, permanent impressions upon his imagination. It was Hobbes who inspired his deep distrust of human beings in the mass and his lifelong intolerance of movements that threat- ened to disturb the peace. Hobbes gave him "the reason and political ornaments," according to the authors of The Censure of the Rota, for the Con- quest of Granada, as well as language with which to defend the Stuart kings in satire. The Levi- athan had blazed a sinister trail into the thicket of human nature and had revealed dismaying perspectives in what was taken for human his- tory. Dryden has much to say about the State of Nature. On a few occasions he reverts with a kind of pleasure to a golden age among those happy isles Where in perpetual spring young Nature smiles; l Or among guiltless men, who danced away their time, Fresh as their groves, and happy as their clime. z 1 To My Lord Chancellor, 11. 135-6. 1 To Dr. Charleton, 11. 13-4. 22 THE POETRY OF JOHN DRYDEN And he has Almanzor say in the Conquest of Gran- ada: But know that I alone am king of me. I am as free as Nature first made man, Ere the base laws of servitude began, When wild in woods the noble savage ran. But most often the prehistoric rabble which he in- vokes is . odes, 237-59; projected epic, 261-2; equipment for narrative, 262-3; incidental nar- rative, 263-6; Homer, 271-2; Ovid, 273-6; Chaucer, 276-87; Boccaccio, 287-90; reputation on the continent, 292-4; pres- tige during last years, 294-9; vogue, 299-308; eighteenth century, 299-305; early nine- teenth century, 305-07; later nineteenth century, 307-8; criticism, 308-24; eighteenth century, 308-15; early nine- teenth century, 315-9; later nineteenth century, 319-24; in- fluence, 324-36; eighteenth century, 324-29; early nine- teenth century, 329-32; later nineteenth century, 332-5; authorship of Mac Flecknoe, 339-5- Dryden, John, Jr., 174. Du Bos, Jean Baptiste, 66. Du Fresnoy, Charles Alphonse, 67. Duchess of Ormond, To The, 153. Duchess of York, To The, 29, 107, 304- Duke, Richard, 203. Duke of Guise, 1 14. Dundee, Viscount, epitaph on, 156, 304- Duns Scotus, 16. D'Urfey, Tom, 219, 257, 303. Earle, John, 192. Elegies, 157-62. Eleonora, 16, 47, 160-1, 240, 304. Ellis, George, 316. Emerson, R. W., 322. Empress of Morocco, Notes on the, 4. 34i- Epicurus, 214. Epigrams, 154-5. Epilogues, 162-77. Epistles and addresses, 144-54. Epitaphs, 155-7. Essay of Dramatic Poesy, 4, 19, 25, 62, 94, 97, 109, 117, 119, 130, 204, 276, 347. Etherege, Sir George, 118, 165. INDEX 355 Etherege, Epistle to, 150, 304. Euripides, 7, 134. Evelyn, John, 20. Evening's Love, An, 14, 115, 226-7, 230, 347- Examen Poeticum, 122, 130, 187, 232, 268. Fables, 26, 63, 68, 69, 93, 123, 130, J 3 2 > J 53 213, 268-91, 298, 299, 300, 302, 304, 306, 316, 318, 325. 329, 332. Fair Maiden Lady Who Died at Bath, Epitaph on a, 157. Fairborne, Sir Palmes, epitaph on, 157, 304. Fairfax, Edward, 3, 89-91. Falkland, Lucius Gary, Viscount, I44-5- Fielding, Henry, 166, 192, 196. Fitzgerald, Edward, 320. Flecknoe, Richard, 154, 192, 340, 343, 349- Fletcher, John, 55, no, 115, 176. Fletcher, Thomas, 129, 252. Flower and the Leaf, The, 72, 132, 285-6, 307. Ford, John, 315. Fox, Charles James, 305. French criticism, 52, 116-20; music, 218-25; poetry, 43, 99, loo, 103, 109, 120; romance, 109; tragedy, 109. Gamble, John, 219. Garrick, David, 166, 305. Garth, Sir Samuel, 310. Gascoigne, George, 73, 95. Gassendi, Pierre, 20. Gibbon, Edward, 181, 305, 332. Gifford, William, n, 317, 318, 328. Gilbert, William, 19. Gildon, Charles, 224, 244, 262, 303, 311, 326. Goldsmith, Oliver, 28, 36, 157, 166, 203, 305, 314, 315, 327. Gondibert, 30-4, 73, 105, 146, 348. Gosse, Edmund, 308. Gower, John, 279. Granville, To the Marquis of, 152, 184. Gray, Thomas, 84, 104, 215, 242, 244, 246, 311, 322, 323, 327. Green, D., 339~4i, 345- Greene, Robert, 191. Griffith, A. F., 305. Guardian, The, 309. Gwynn, Nell, 168. Halifax, Marquis of, 193, 295. Hall, John, n, 117. Hall, Joseph, 88, 90, 99, 185, 191, 192. Hallam, Henry, 316. Handel, G. F., 252, 294. Harris, Joseph, 169. Harte, Walter, 114, 326. Harvey, William, 17, 19, 26. Hastings, Elegy on Lord, 4, 16, 46, 104-5, I S7, l88 34- Hastings, Henry, of Woodlands, 193-6. Hazlitt, William, 307, 318, 329. Herbert, George, 2. Heroic couplet, 88-93. Heroic plays, 39, 40, 49-50, 62-3, 109-115. Essay of, 109, 261. Heroic stanza, the, 105-8. Heroic Stantas on Cromwell, 3, 9, 1 6, 26, 29, 105-6, 132, 142, 34, 346. Herrick, Robert, 2, 13, 225. 356 INDEX Herringman, Henry, 37, 146, 147. Heywood, Thomas, 165. Higden, To Henry, 150, 304. Hind and the Panther, The, 16, 56, 104, 114, 119, 135, 180, 202, 210-12, 214, 216, 217-8, 265-6, 34, 37, 308, 325, 346. Hobbes, Thomas, 15, 19, 20, 21, 24, 26, 30-35, 41-2, 66, 82, 221, 316. Hoddtsdon, To John, 105, 146. Homer, 7, n, 68, 70, 73, 82, 122, 154, 270, 294. Translation of, 130, 271-2, 304. 332. Hoole, Charles, 6. Horace, 5, 12, 44, 52, 66, 67, 118, 122, 185, 190, 191, 215, 343. Translation of, 125, 247-9, 250, 294, 304, 308. Howard, Sir Robert, 94, no, 136. Epistle to, 26, 87, 146-7, 304. Hughes, John, 240, 326. Hunt, Leigh, 74, 329, 330. Hutchin, John, 196. Hymns, 232-33. Imagination, 33-35. Imitative harmony, 80-5. Indian Emperor, The, 13, no-n, 114, 159, 223, 226, 253. Indian Queen, The, no, 223. Isocrates, 7, 139. Jackson, John, 71. Jeffreys, Francis, 315. Jonson, Ben, 2, 3, II, 13, 24, 30, 60, 66, 88, 90, 95, 105, 1 20, 137-8, 144, 146, 161, 164, 173, 192, 204, 219, 241, 244, 314, 347- Jonsonus Virbius, 146. Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 5, 16, 36, 37, 39, 43, 55, 81, 82, 88, 99, 108, 114, 134, 142, 155, 157, 166, 181, 214, 245, 250, 294, 296, 301, 305, 308, 312, 315, 316, 321. Jordan, Thomas, 137. Juvenal, 5, 12, 105, 122, 185, 186, 188, 189, 190. Translation of, 119, 125-6, 212, 302, 304, 305-6, 320. Keats, John, 242, 262, 307, 317, 33-2, 333. Killigrew, Mrs. Anne, Ode on, 87, 160, 250-1, 255, 302, 304, 306, 308, 323, 335. King Arthur, 223, 231, 234-5. Kneller, Sir Godfrey, To, 94, 151, 304, 307. La Bruyere, Jean de, 192. La Fontaine, Jean de, 242. Lady's Song, The, 228. Landor, W. S., 233, 241, 319, 330. Langbaine, Gerald, 132. Laniere, Nicholas, 219. Laokoon, 59. Lauderdale, Earl of, 129. Lawes, Henry, 65, 138, 219, 221, 224-5. Lawes, William, 219. Latvian, Erasmus, Epitaph on, IS7- Lee, Nathaniel, 166, 170, 176. Epistle to, 87, 148. Leicester, Earl of, 278. Leonidas, 155. Lessing, Gotthold, 59, 66. Leviathan, The, 2021. Lillo, George, 166. Limberham, 340, 349. Livy, 7- INDEX 357 Locke, John, 15. Lockhart, J. G., 306, 316. Lockier, Dean, 297, 341, 346. Lodge, Thomas, 88. Longfellow, H. W., 262. Longinus, n, 52-54, 78, 119, 256. Lord Chancellor, To My, 21, 29, ic6, 142, 304. Love Triumphant, 114. Lovelace, Richard, 2. Lowell, J. R., i, 17, 65, 307, 321, 324- Lucan, 3, 13, 254, 263. Lucilius, 185. Lucretius, 12, 13, 20, 21, 22, 214, 254, 276, 284, 287. Translation of, 100, 102, 124-5, 233, 304, 308, 320. Lupton, Donald, 192. Luttrell, Narcissus, 341. Lycidas, 132, 159. Lydgate, John, 279. Mac Flecknoe, 27, 206, 265, 303, 307, 325, 339-50. Macaulay, T. B., 18, 44, 99, 262, 321. Mackenzie, Sir George, 103. Maiden Queen, 112, 115, 229. Mainwaring, Arthur, 203. Malherbe, Francois de, 28, 76, 88, 141, 242. Malone, Edmund, 301. Marlowe, Christopher, 88, 92, 164. Marriage d la Mode, 115, 119, 204, 220, 227. Marshall, Mrs., 10, 168, 172. Marston, John, 88, 115, 185. Martial, 154. Marvell, Andrew, 140, 142, 143, 186, 196, 241, 251, 253-4. Masefield, John, 262. Mason, William, 104, 327. Medal, The, 206, 304, 340, 341, 349- Medal of John Bayes, The, 9, 37, 109, 188, 340, 341. Meleager and Atalanta, 272. Middleton, Earl of, 150. Milbourne, Luke, 103. Milton, John, 2, 3, 12, 17, 23, 24, 34. 75. 81, 91, 132-5, 138, 184, 214, 225, 238-9, 242, 251, 255, 260-1, 262, 277, 286, 296, 311, 314, 316, 324, 325, 329, 333- Epigram on, 154, 304, 308. Minshull, Geoffrey, 192. Miscellanies, 266, 299, 303-4; First, 122, 123, 126, 167, 247, 34i> 3455 Second, 123, 124, 125, 128, 129, 160, 183, 246, 266; Third, 122, 130, 187, 232, 268; Fourth, 128, 277. Moliere, 20, 204, 220, 242. Monosyllables, 78, 94-6. Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, 305. Montaigne, 5. Montpensier, Mademoiselle de, 193- Moore, Tom, 329. Morfitt, John, 312. Morris, William, 262. Moschus, 157. Motteux, Pierre, 223, 257, 298. Epistle to, 87, 152. Mountfort, Mrs., 168. Mulgrave, Earl of, 38, 52, 75, 118, 128, 178, 197, 295, 297. Music, seventeenth century, 219- 25- Music and poetry, 73-85. 358 INDEX Naboth's Vineyard, 197-8. Nash, Thomas, 191. Newcastle, Duke of, 14. Nichols, John, 305. Norris, John, 222. Northleigh, J., To, 150. Gates, Titus, 179, 198. Ode on the Morning of Christ's Nativity, 3, 132. Odes, 237-59. (Edipus, 114, 115, 133-5, 223, 231. Og, character of, 202, 208-9, 36, 32S, 349- Ogilby, John, 126. Oldham, John, 3, 118, 120, 186-8, 197, 252, 253, 258, 267, 342-50. Elegy on, 85, 87, 158-60, 307, 308. Oldmixon, John, 94, 103, 310. Operas, 233-37. Oratory and poetry, 58-65. Ormond, Duke of, 160, 295. Orrery, Earl of, 135. Otway, Thomas, 166. Overbury, Sir Thomas, 192. Ovid, 12, 17, 20, 36, 44, 51, 61, IO3, 122, 148, 157, 262, 269, 270, 287. Translations from, 47, 122-3, 268, 273-6, 302, 306. Owen, John, 154. Oxford University, 9. Painting and poetry, 65-73. Palamon and Arcite, 63-4, 72, 153, 233, 280-83, 287, 307. Palgrave, Francis, 308. Panegyrici Veteres, 139. Panegyrics, 46, 139-44. Paradise Lost, 22, 75, 132, 135, 155, 186, 265, 298. Parallel of Poetry and Painting, 67,69. Paston, Mrs. Margaret, Epitaph on, 157- Pater, Walter, 324. Pearch, Christopher, 305. Pembroke, Earl of, 161. Pepys, Samuel, 46, 143, 204, 213. Persius, 5, 12, 122, 159, 185, 305-6. Translation of, 7, 212, 302. Petrarch, 140, 157, 231. Petre, Father, 211. Petronius, 44, 248. Phillips, Edward, 34, 244. Pindar, 139, 293, 294, 323. Pindaric Ode, 67, 241-51. Pitcairne, Dr. Archibald, 156. Pitt, Christopher, 301. Plato, 59, 79. Plautus, 164. Playford, Henry, 219, 226. Playford, John, 219, 222, 226, 256. Pliny, 5, 44. Plutarch, 5, 6, 66, 192. Plutarch, Life of, 4, 9, 67, 1 1 8, 155- Poe, Edgar Allan, 333. Poems on Affairs of State, 75, 303. Poetic diction, 67-73. Poetic license, 51-6. Polybius, 14. Polysyllables, 78-9. Poole, Joshua, 77. Pope, Alexander, i, 37, 72, 74, 75, 77, 80, 8 1, 84, 90, 91, 95, 97, 144, 166, 202, 203, 205, 214, 272, 294, 296, 298, 305, 307, 308, 309-19, 3^1, 322, 324-5. 327-9, 332. Primer, Catholic, 232. Prior, Matthew, 150, 226, 314. INDEX 359 Prologues and epilogues, 162-77. Prophetess, The, 223. Prosodia, 93. Purcell, Henry, 73, 219, 223, 224, 235. 252- Ode on the Dath of, 251. Puttenham, George, 60, 73. Pygmalion and the Statue, 275. Pythagoras, 256. Quarles, Francis, 3. Quarterly Review, 320. Quintilian, 59. Rabelais, 207. Racine, 242. Ralph, James, 300. Rambouillet, Hotel de, 116. Ramus, Petrus, 17. Randolph, Thomas, 2, 15, 241. Rapin, Rene, 52, 116, 117, 119, 1 20, 292. Ratiocination in verse, 214-8. Rehearsal, The, 5, 44, 165, 178, 214. Religio Laid, 20, 119, 149, 2IO, 214, 217, 233, 284, 304, 307, 308, 32S- Retz, Cardinal de, 193. Reynolds, Henry, 144. Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 34, 70. Rhyme, 94. Richelieu, Cardinal de, 193. Rival Ladies, The, 28, 94, no, 115, 130, 135, 187, 345. Robinson, Henry Crabb, 233, 294, 3I9- Rochester, Earl of, 99, 118, 141, 167, 197, 225, 297. Rogers, Samuel, 317, 318. Rogers, Upon Young Mr., 157, 304. Roscommon, Earl of, 80-1, 118, 1 20, 129. Epistle to, 87, 94, 149-50, 152, 34- Rowe, Nicholas, 262. Royal Society, 18, 26. Rubens, Peter Paul, 69. Ruskin, John, 70. Rutland, Countess of, 144. Rymer, Thomas, 52, 117, 120. Sacred Majesty, To His. A Pane- gyric, 29, 106, 142, 304. St. Cecilia's Day, Odes for, 251-9. St. Evremond, 118, 121, 234. Saintsbury, George, 3, 300-1. Sallust, 7. Saltonstall, Wye, 192. Sandys, George, 12, 90-1, 92, 144, 325. Sappho, 13. Sarrasin, Jean Francois, 117. Satirist, Dryden as, 183-214. Saunders, Charles, 174. Savile, Sir Henry, 146. Scaliger, Joseph, n. Schlegel, A. W., 294. Schlegel, Friedrich, 65. Scholasticism, 15-17, 26, 42. Science, 17-23, 44-5. Scott, Sir Walter, 160, 196, 232, 245, 261, 262, 270, 287, 300, 306, 316, 319. Scroggs, Lord Chief Justice, 197. Scudery, Madeleine de, 193. Sea-Fight, The, 231. Secular Masque, 236-7, 307. Sedley, Sir Charles, 9, 226, 295. Selden, John, 93. Seneca, 5, 13,62, 134. Settle, Elkanah, 4, 5, 132, 184, 207, 308, 341. 360 INDEX Seward, Anna, 313. Shadwell, Thomas, 9, 27, 36-7, 43, 109, 175, 185, 188, 207, 209, 308, 340, 341, 342, 346, 348, 349- Shaftesbury, Earl of, 16, 184, 193, 308. Shakespeare, William, 3, 12, 35, 47, 54, 55, 86, 88, 90, 102, 130-1, 132, 135, 146, 151, 157, 164, 173, 2O3, 204, 212, 263, 286, 305, 3H, 316, 325, 327. Shelley, Percy Bysshe, 242. Sidney, Sir Philip, 60, 73. Sigismonda and Guiscardo, 287-8, 307. Silius Italicus, 14. Simonides, 155. Sir Martin Mar-All, 220. Soame, Sir William, 28, 105, 118, Hi, 344- Song for St. Cecilia's Day, 252-5, 302, 308, 325, 333. Song to a Fair Young Lady, 231. Songs, 219-32. Sophocles, 134. Southerne, Thomas, 174. Epistle to, 151. Sou they, Robert, 141, 317, 319. Spanish Friar, 54, 115, 205, 223, 230, 328. Spectator, 302, 305, 309. Speeches of Ajax and Ulysses, 275. Speght's edition of Chaucer, 276, 279. Spence's Anecdotes, 37, 77, 81, 297, 309, 325- Spenser, Edmund, 3, 12, 88, 90, 99, 100, 103, 105, 131-2, 135, 154, 157, 241, 253, 262, 270, 277, 285, 286, 314, 324, 325, 326, 329- Sprat, Thomas, 193. State of Innocence, iS, 22, 32, 113-4, 132, 148, 205, 234, 238-40, 326. State of Nature, Dryden on, 21-3. Statius, 13, 44. Steele, Sir Richard, 166, 192, 309. Stevens, John, 192. Stevensoh, R. L., 308. Steward, Mrs. Elmes, 268, 274, 295. Suckling, Sir John, 2. Suetonius, 192. Suidas, 256. Swift, Jonathan, 16, 99, 308-9, 312,321, 323. Swinburne, 242. Sylvee, 67, 82, 123, 124, 125, 128, 129, 160, 183, 246, 266. Sylvester, Joshua, 3, 254. Tacitus, 44, 58, 59, 192. Taine, H. A., 35-6, 216. Tasso, 3, 78, 89, 103, 140. Tassoni, 341. Tate, Nahum, 170, 252. Taller, 302, 305, 309. Te Deum, 232. Tempest, 43, 115, 223. Temple, Sir William, 57, 73, 154. Tennyson, Alfred Lord, 242, 262, 320, 332-3. Tennyson, Hallam, 332. Terence, 164. Thackeray, W. M., 292. Theocritus, 11, 157. Translation of, 123-4, 304. Theodore and Honoria, 288-9, 307, 316, 332. Thomson, James, 166, 299. Threnodia Augustalis, 46, 143-4, 249-50, 304. INDEX 361 Theophrastus, 189, 192. Thompson, Francis, 332-5. Thorn-Drury, G., 339. Thornton, Bonnell, 252. Titian, 68. Tonson, Jacob, 121, 122, 128, 155, 184, 258, 267, 299, 300, 302, 303, 304, 309, 310, 339, 345, 346. Tragedies, 50. Trinity College, Cambridge, 8-9, 15, 146. Triplets, 99-102. Troilus and Cressida, 8, 31, 54, 55, 115, 184. Turns, 102-3. Tyrannic Love, 112, 223, 231, 325. Van Dyck, Anthony, 65. Varro, 185. Vaughan, Henry, 2. Veni, Creator Spirilus, 232, 304. Vida, 80. Vindication of the Duke of Guise, 209, 349- Virgil, 6, 7, u, 13, 14, 44, 51, 63, 68-72, 78, 81, 82, 103, 122, 131, 154, 159-60, 262, 323. Translation of, 12, 30, 39, 40, 63, 68-73, 79, 80-4, 89, 93- 5, 100-2, 119-20, 123, 126-30, 160, 213, 233, 235, 240, 261, 266-8, 285, 298, 301-2, 304, 305, 306, 320, 325. Voiture, Vincent, 220. Voltaire, 293-4, 3 12 - Voss, Johann Heinrich, 294. Waller, Edmund, 20, 24, 25, 28-9, 30-1, 45, 76, 78, 89, 91-2, 93, 99, 103, 106-7, 128, 131, 138, 141-3, 146, 219, 251, 311, 314, 325- Walsh, William, 95, 297. Walton, Izaac, 193. Ward, Seth, 17. Warner, William, 263. Warton, Joseph, 302, 314-5. Warton, Thomas, 132. Edition of Dryden, 301, 321. Webb, Daniel, 81. Webb, William, 60, 219. Webster, John, 157. West, Gilbert, 244. Westminster Drolleries, 226, 303. Westminster School, 5-8. Weston, Joseph, 312-3. Wharton, Duke of, 202, 325. Whitman, Walt, 271. Whitmore, Lady, Epitaph on, 157, 34- Wife of Bath, Her Tale, 132, 285-7, 288, 293. Wild Gallant, no. Wilkes, John, 259. Will's Coffee-house, 296-7, 311, 341, 347- Wilson, John, 219. Winchester, Marquis of, Epitaph on, 156. Wit, 24-5, 41-3. Wither, George, 3. Wolseley, Robert, 297. Wolsey, Cardinal, 6. Wordsworth, William, 13, 35, 81, 86, 219, 241, 242, 270, 287, 307, 313, 317, 3i8, 319, 320, 324, 328. Zambra Dance, 229, 247. Zeuxis, 68. Zimri, character of, 189, 197-202, 306, 325. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. A 000134262 5