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Otway was exposed to powerful enemies, who could not bear that he should acquire fame, amongst whom Dryden is the foremost. The enmity between Dryden and Otway could not proceed from jealousy, for what were Otway's, when put in the ballance with the amazing powers of Dryden? like a drop to the ocean: and yet we find Dryden declared himself his open enemy; for which, the best reason that can be a.s.signed is, that Otway was a retainer to Shadwell, who was Dryden's aversion. Dryden was often heard to say, that Otway was a barren illiterate man, but 'I confess, says he, he has a power which I have not;' and when it was asked him, what power that was? he answered, 'moving the pa.s.sions.' This truth was, no doubt, extorted from Dryden, for he seems not to be very ready in acknowledging the merits of his cotemporaries. In his preface to Du Fresnoy's Art of Painting, which he translated, he mentions Otway with respect, but not till after he was dead; and even then he speaks but coldly of him. The pa.s.sage is as follows, 'To express the pa.s.sions which are seated on the heart by outward signs, is one great precept of the painters, and very difficult to perform. In poetry the very same pa.s.sions, and motions of the mind are to be expressed, and in this consists the princ.i.p.al difficulty, as well as the excellency of that art. This (says my author) is the gift of Jupiter, and to speak in the same Heathen language, is the gift of our Apollo, not to be obtained by pains or study, if we are not born to it; for the motions which are studied, are never so natural, as those which break out in the heighth of a real pa.s.sion. Mr. Otway possessed this part as thoroughly as any of either the ancients or moderns. I will not defend every thing in his Venice Preserved, but I must bear this testimony to his memory, that the pa.s.sions are truly touched in it, though, perhaps, there is somewhat to be desired, both in the grounds of them, and the heighth and elegance of expression; but nature is there, which is the greatest beauty.' Notwithstanding our admiration of Dryden, we cannot, without some indignation, observe, how sparing he is in the praises of Otway, who, considered as a tragic writer, was surely superior to himself.
Dryden enchants us indeed with flow'ry descriptions, and charms us with (what is called) the magic of poetry; but he has seldom drawn a tear, and millions of radiant eyes have been witnesses for Otway, by those drops of pity which they have shed. Otway might be no scholar, but that, methinks, does not detract from the merit of a dramatist, nor much a.s.sist him in succeeding. For the truth of this we may appeal to experience. No poets in our language, who were what we call scholars, have ever written plays which delight or affect the audience. Shakespear, Otway and Southern were no scholars; Ben Johnson, Dryden and Addison were: and while few audiences admire the plays of the latter, those of the former are the supports of the stage.
After suffering many eclipses of fortune, and being exposed to the most cruel necessities, poor Otway died of want, in a public house on Tower-hill, in the 33rd year of his age, 1685. He had, no doubt, been driven to that part of the town, to avoid the persecution of his creditors and as he durst not appear much abroad to sollicit a.s.sistance, and having no means of getting money in his obscure retreat, he perished. It has been reported, that Mr. Otway, whom delicacy had long deterred from borrowing small sums, driven at last to the most grievous necessity ventured out of his lurking place, almost naked and s.h.i.+vering, and went into a coffee-house on Tower-hill, where he saw a gentleman, of whom he had some knowledge, and of whom he sollicited the loan of a s.h.i.+lling. The gentleman was quite shocked, to see the author of Venice Preserved begging bread, and compa.s.sionately put into his hand a guinea.
Mr. Otway having thanked his benefactor, retired, and changed the guinea to purchase a roll; as his stomach was full of wind by excess of fasting, the first mouthful choaked him, and instantaneously put a period to his days.
Who can consider the fate of this gentleman, without being moved to pity? we can forgive his acts of imprudence, since they brought him to so miserable an end; and we cannot but regret, that he who was endowed by nature with such distinguished talents, as to make the bosom bleed with salutary sorrow, should himself be so extremely wretched, as to excite the same sensations for him, which by the power of his eloquence and poetry, he had raised for imaginary heroes. We know, indeed, of no guilty part of Otway's life, other than those fas.h.i.+onable faults, which usually recommend to the conversation of men in courts, but which serve for excuses for their patrons, when they have not a mind to provide for them. From the example of Mr. Otway, succeeding poets should learn not to place any confidence in the promises of patrons; it discovers a higher spirit, and reflects more honour on a man to struggle n.o.bly for independance, by the means of industry, than servilely to wait at a great man's gate, or to sit at his table, meerly to afford him diversion: Competence and independence have surely more substantial charms, than the smiles of a courtier, which are too frequently fallacious. But who can read Mr Otway's story, without indignation at those idols of greatness, who demand wors.h.i.+p from men of genius, and yet can suffer them to live miserably, and die neglected?
The dramatic works of Mr. Otway are,
1. Alcibiades, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke of York's Theatre, 1675, dedicated to Charles, Earl of Middles.e.x. The story of this play is taken from Cor. Nepos, and Plutarch's Life of Alcibiades.
2. t.i.tus and Berenice, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre, 1677, dedicated to John, Earl of Rochester. This play consists of but three Acts, and is a translation from M. Racine into heroic verse; for the story see Suetonius, Dionysius, Josephus; to which is added the Cheats of Scapin, a Farce, acted the same year. This is a translation from Moliere, and is originally Terence's Phormio.
3. Friends.h.i.+p in Fas.h.i.+on, a Comedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre, 1678, dedicated to the Earl of Dorset and Middles.e.x. This play was revived at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane, 1749, and was d.a.m.ned by the audience, on account of the immorality of the design, and the obscenity of the dialogue.
4. Don Carlos, Prince of Spain, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke of York's Theatre, 1679. This play, which was the second production of our author, written in heroic verse, was acted with very great applause, and had a run of thirty nights; the plot from the Novel called Don Carlos.
5. The Orphan, or the Unhappy Marriage, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke of York's Theatre, 1680, dedicated to her Royal Highness the d.u.c.h.ess.
It is founded on the History of Brandon, and a Novel called the English Adventurer. Scene Bohemia.
6. The History and Fall of Caius Marius, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre, 1680, dedicated to Lord Viscount Falkland. The characters of Marius Junior and Lavinia, are borrowed literally from Shakespear's Romeo and Juliet, which Otway has acknowledged in his Prologue.
7. The Soldier's Fortune, a Comedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre, 1681.
This play is dedicated to Mr. Bentley his Bookseller; for the copy money, as he tells us himself, see Boccace's Novels, Scarron's Romances.
8. The Atheist, or the Second Part of the Soldier's Fortune, a Comedy, acted at the Duke of York's Theatre, 1684, dedicated to Lord Eland, the eldest son to the Marquis of Hallifax.
9. Venice Preserved, or a Plot Discovered, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre, 1685, dedicated to the d.u.c.h.ess of Portsmouth. Of this we have already given some account, and it is so frequently acted, that any enlargement would be impertinent. It is certainly one of the most moving plays upon the English stage; the plot from a little book, giving an account of the Conspiracy of the Spaniards against Venice.
Besides his plays, he wrote several poems, viz.
The Poet's Complaint to his Muse, or a Satire against Libels, London; 1680, in 4to.
Windsor Castle, or a Monument to King Charles the Second.
Miscellany Poems, containing a New Translation of Virgil's Eclogues, Ovid's Elegies, Odes of Horace, London 1864. He translated likewise the Epistle of Phaedra to Hyppolitus, printed in the Translation of Ovid's Epistles, by several hands. He wrote the Prologue to Mrs.
Bhon's City Heiress. Prefixed to Creechis Lucretius, there is a copy of verses written by Mr. Otway, in praise of that translation.
JOHN OLDHAM.
This eminent satyrical poet, was the son of the reverend Mr. John Oldham, a nonconformist minister, and grandson to Mr. John Oldham, rector of Nun-Eaton, near Tedbury in Gloucesters.h.i.+re. He was born at s.h.i.+pton (where his father had a congregation, near Tedbury, and in the same county) on the 9th of August 1653. He was educated in grammar learning, under the care of his father, till he was almost fitted for the university; and to be compleatly qualified for that purpose, he was sent to Tedbridge school, where he spent about two years under the tuition of Mr. Henry Heaven, occasioned by the earnest request of alderman Yeats of Bristol, who having a son at the same school, was desirous that Mr. Oldham should be his companion, which he imagined would much conduce to the advancement of his learning. This for some time r.e.t.a.r.ded Oldham in the prosecution of his own studies, but for the time he lost in forwarding Mr. Yeat's son, his father afterwards made him an ample amends. Mr. Oldham being sent to Edmund Hall in Oxford, was committed to the care of Mr. William Stephens: of which hall he became a bachelor in the beginning of June 1670. He was soon observed to be a good latin scholar, and chiefly addicted himself to the study of poetry, and other polite acquirements[1]. In the year 1674, he took the degree of bachelor of arts, but left the university before he compleated that degree by determination, being much against his inclination compelled to go home and live for some time with his father. The next year he was very much afflicted for the death of his dear friend, and constant companion, Mr. Charles Mervent, as appears by his ode upon that occasion. In a short time after he became usher to the free-school at Croyden in Surry. Here it was, he had the honour of receiving a visit from the earl of Rochester, the earl of Dorset, Sir Charles Sedley, and other persons of distinction, meerly upon the reputation of some verses which they had seen in ma.n.u.script. The master of the school was not a little surprized, at such a visit, and would fain have taken the honour of it to himself, but was soon convinced that he had neither wit nor learning enough to make a party in such company. This adventure was no doubt very happy for Mr.
Oldham, as it encreased his reputation and gained him the countenance of the Great, for after about three years continuance at Croyden school, he was recommended by his good friend Harman Atwood, Esq; to Sir Edward Thurland, a judge, near Rygate in the same county, who appointed him tutor to his two grandsons. He continued in this family till 1680. After this he was sometime tutor to a son of Sir William Hicks, a gentleman living within three or four miles of London, who was intimately acquainted with a celebrated Physician, Dr. Richard Lower, by whose peculiar friends.h.i.+p and encouragement, Mr. Oldham at his leisure hours studied physic for about a year, and made some progress in it, but the bent of his poetical genius was too strong to become a proficient in any school but that of the muses. He freely acknowledges this in a letter to a friend, written in July 1678.
While silly I, all thriving arts refuse, } And all my hopes, and all my vigour lose, } In service of the worst of jilts a muse. } * * * * *
Oft I remember, did wise friends dissuade, And bid me quit the trifling barren trade.
Oft have I tryed (heaven knows) to mortify This vile and wicked bent of poetry; But still unconquered it remains within, Fixed as a habit, or some darling sin.
In vain I better studies there would sow; Oft have I tried, but none will thrive or grow.
All my best thoughts, when I'd most serious be, Are never from its foul infection free: Nay G.o.d forgive me when I say my prayers, I scarce can help polluting them with verse.
The fab'lous wretch of old revers'd I seem, Who turn whatever I touch to dross of rhime.
Our author had not been long in London, before he was found out by the n.o.blemen who visited him at Croyden, and who now introduced him to the acquaintance of Mr. Dryden. But amongst the Men of quality he was most affectionately caressed by William Earl of Kingston, who made him an offer of becoming his chaplain; but he declined an employment, to which servility and dependence are so necessarily connected. The writer of his life observes, that our author in his satire addressed to a friend, who was about to quit the university, and came abroad into the world, lets his friend know, that he was frighted from the thought of such an employment, by the scandalous sort of treatment which often accompanies it. This usage deters men of generous minds from placing themselves in such a station of life; and hence persons of quality are frequently excluded from the improving, agreeable conversation of a learned and obsequious friend. In this satire Mr.
Oldham writes thus,
Some think themselves exalted to the sky, If they light on some n.o.ble family.
Diet and horse, and thirty-pounds a year, Besides the advantage of his lords.h.i.+p's ear.
The credit of the business and the state, Are things that in a youngster's sense found great.
Little the unexperienced wretch does know, What slavery he oft must undergo; Who tho' in silken stuff, and ca.s.soc drest, Wears but a gayer livery at best.
When diner calls, the implement must wait, With holy words to consecrate the meat; But hold it for a favour seldom known, If he be deign'd the honour to sit down.
Soon as the tarts appear, Sir c.r.a.pe withdraw, Those dainties are not for a spiritual maw.
Observe your distance, and be sure to stand Hard by the cistern, with your cap in hand: There for diversion you may pick your teeth, Till the kind voider comes for your relief, For meer board wages, such their freedom sell, Slaves to an hour, and va.s.sals to a bell: And if th' employments of one day be stole, They are but prisoners out upon parole: Always the marks of slavery remain, And they tho' loose, still drag about their chain.
And where's the mighty prospect after all, A chaplains.h.i.+p serv'd up, and seven years thrall?
The menial thing, perhaps for a reward, Is to some slender benefice prefer'd, With this proviso bound that he must wed, } My lady's antiquated waiting maid, } In dressing only skill'd, and marmalade. } Let others who such meannesses can brook, Strike countenance to ev'ry great man's look: Let those, that have a mind, turn slave to eat, And live contented by another's plate: I rate my freedom higher, nor will I, For food and rayment track my liberty.
But if I must to my last s.h.i.+ft be put, To fill a bladder, and twelve yards of gut, Richer with counterfeited wooden leg, And my right arm tyed up, I'll choose to beg.
I'll rather choose to starve at large, than be, The gaudiest va.s.sal to dependancy.
The above is a lively and animated description of the miseries of a slavish dependance on the great, particularly that kind of mortification which a chaplain must undergo. It is to be lamented, that gentlemen of an academical education should be subjected to observe so great a distance from those, over whom in all points of learning and genius they may have a superiority. Tho' in the very nature of things this must necessarily happen, yet a high spirit cannot bear it, and it is with pleasure we can produce Oldham, as one of those poets who have spurned dependence, and acted consistent with the dignity of his genius, and the l.u.s.tre of his profession.
When the earl of Kingston found that Mr. Oldham's spirit was too high to accept his offer of chaplains.h.i.+p, he then caressed him as a companion, and gave him an invitation to his house at Holmes-Pierpont, in Nottinghams.h.i.+re. This invitation Mr. Oldham accepted, and went into the country with him, not as a dependant but friend; he considered himself as a poet, and a clergyman, and in consequence of that, he did not imagine the earl was in the least degraded by making him his bosom companion. Virgil was the friend of Maecenas, and shone in the court of Augustus, and if it should be observed that Virgil was a greater poet than Oldham, it may be answered, Maecenas was a greater man than the Earl of Kingston, and the court of Augustus much more brilliant than that of Charles II.
Our author had not been long at the seat of this Earl, before, being seized with the small pox, he died December 9, 1683, in the 30th year of his age, and was interred with the utmost decency, his lords.h.i.+p attending as chief mourner, in the church there, where the earl soon after erected a monument to his memory.--Mr. Oldham's works were printed at London 1722, in two volumes 12mo. They chiefly consist of Satires, Odes, Translations, Paraphrases of Horace, and other authors; Elegiac Verses, Imitations, Parodies, Familiar Epistles, &c.--Mr.
Oldham was tall of stature, the make of his body very thin, his face long, his nose prominent, his aspect unpromising, and satire was in his eye. His const.i.tution was very tender, inclined to a consumption, and it was not a little injured by his study and application to learned authors, with whom he was greatly conversant, as appears from his satires against the Jesuits, in which there is discovered as much learning as wit. In the second volume of the great historical, geographical, and poetical Dictionary, he is stiled the Darling of the Muses, a pithy, sententious, elegant, and smooth writer: "His translations exceed the original, and his invention seems matchless.
His satire against the Jesuits is of special note; he may be justly said to have excelled all the satirists of the age." Tho' this compliment in favour of Oldham is certainly too hyperbolical, yet he was undoubtedly a very great genius; he had treasured in his mind an infinite deal of knowledge, which, had his life been prolonged, he might have produced with advantage, for his natural endowments seem to have been very great: But he is not more to be reverenced as a Poet, than for that gallant spirit of Independence he discovered, and that magnaninity [sic] which scorned to stoop to any servile submissions for patronage: He had many admirers among his contemporaries, of whom Mr. Dryden professed himself one, and has done justice to his memory by some excellent verses, with which we shall close this account.
Farewel too little, and too lately known, Whom I began to think, and call my own; For sure our souls were near allied, and thine Cast in the same poetic mould with mine.
One common note on either lyre did strike, And knaves and tools were both abhorred alike.
To the same goal did both our studies drive, The last set out, the soonest did arrive, Thus Nisus fell upon the slippery place, While his young friend perform'd and won the race.
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.
But satire needs not those, and wit will s.h.i.+ne, Thro' the harsh cadence of a rugged line: A n.o.ble error, and but seldom made, When poets are by too much force betray'd.
Thy gen'rous fruits, tho' gather'd e'er their prime, } Still shewed a quickness; and maturing time } But mellows what we write to the dull sweets of rhime. } Once more, hail and farewel: Farewel thou young, But ah! too short, Marcellus of our tongue; Thy brows with ivy, and with laurels bound, But fate, and gloomy night encompa.s.s thee around.
Footnote: 1. Life of Mr. Oldham, prefixed to his works, vol. i. edit. Lond.
1722.
(DILLON) (WENTWORTH) Earl of ROSCOMMON,