Chapter XIX · (continued 2)

"The Devil is an Ass" (1616) is a satire on conjurers, crystal-gazers, projectors, or, as we say, "promoters" of bubble enterprises, and their gulls and "coneys".

A walking tour to Scotland (1618-1619), where Jonson was entertained by Drummond of Hawthornden, had for its fruit Drummond's brief notes of his conversation and literary opinions. He did not care much for Drummond's Petrarchian sonnets, "cross-rhymes"; and, as to Shakespeare (whom Drummond himself does not seem to have appreciated), merely said that "he wanted art," and that, in his geography, he was wrong when he gave Bohemia a sea-coast. Happily Ben left splendid tributes other-where (in verses attached to the first collected edition of Shakespeare's plays, "The Folio" (1623), and in prose), to Shakespeare's genius and character. Drummond's estimate of Ben as a braggart about himself, and a contemner of others, as jealous and vindictive, is only true in part. No man had more or more admiring friends; at taverns he reigned, among the great wits "Sealed of the Tribe of Ben," like an earlier Dryden.

His last plays "The New Inn," "The Magnetic Lady," and "The Tale of a Tub," were badly received: in an Ode he

left the loathèd stage And the more loathsome age;

he lost his place of Masque-maker in 1632, but was still befriended by Charles I. He died on 6 August, 1637, before the troubles of the Covenant came to a head.

His great collection of books and his treatise on the "Poetics" of Aristotle and the "Art of Poetry" of Horace had already been destroyed by a fire. Many of his beautiful lyrics exhibit that grace, delicacy, and, in the best sense, poetry which are not conspicuous in his plays. "His throne is not with the Olympians but with the Titans," and Tennyson could not endure the gloom which he found in Jonson's comedies.

Scott, on the other hand, seems to have known them almost by heart, and constantly quotes them, and, indeed, the whole host of minor Elizabethan playwrights. The learning of Jonson, in Greek no less than in Latin, is a marvel,

Which is a wonder how his Grace should glean it,

in his prodigious activity of production. His immortal lyrics attest the delicacy and grace which seldom inspire his plays, and, indeed, are most noted in the lover; "a scholar and a gentleman," of his incoherent play "The New Inn" (1629). Ben's drama is the work of a "made" writer, the fruit of reflection on what the stage ought to be, and of ponderous industry and diligent observation. We feel that the plays, despite their richness and vigour, their masculine energy, are somewhat prolix, rather pedantic, and they do not hold the stage, like those of Shakespeare, at whom Ben scratched so often, without moving the master to reply in kind.

Jonson's Prose.

It is not easy to sympathize with the sweet enthusiasts who place Ben Jonson's "Timber, or Discoveries made upon Men and Matter," above Bacon's Essays. These sayings, maxims, and very brief essays were mainly written when Ben was old, and not yet wise enough to be contented. He appears as a contemner of times present, when the poet is no longer taken at his own estimate, which, in Jonson's case, was rather high. Many of the "Discoveries" had, not infrequently or of recent date, been discovered before. Thus of Fortune, "That which happens to any man, may to every man. But it is in his reason what he accounts it, and will make it." This has been put more briefly and better: "Nothing is good or bad but thinking makes it so". Nothing can be more trite than this of waste of time, but the expression is admirable, "What a deal of cold business doth a man" (and do most women) "mis-spend the better part of life in! In scattering compliments, tendering visits, gathering and venting news, following feasts and plays, making a little winter-love in a dark corner." But Jonson was not profuse in venting compliments, and, with his enormous reading, can hardly have spent much time in paying calls. The sentences on the decay of taste are passed by elderly men of letters in all ages on "railing and tinkling rhymers, whose writings the vulgar more greedily read..." "Expectation of the vulgar is more drawn with newness than goodness," yet a poet is nothing if he has not something new in manner if not in matter.

Jonson says that his memory was once excellent, till he was past 40. Certainly it had ceased to be trustworthy: he attributes to Homer what Homer never said, and to Orpheus what Homer did say. Ben finds the new poems in his old age so bad that a man "never would light his tobacco with them". We all remember his sentences on Shakespeare: and "how there was ever more in him to be praised than to be pardoned". He had three ways of viewing Shakespeare: one when he had well drunk, and was magnificent, as Howell tells us, about himself and his Muse. Thus he said to Hawthornden that Shakespeare "wanted art," and did not know that Bohemia lacks a sea-coast. The second way is that of his "Discoveries". The third and excellent way is in his poem, in which he speaks of Shakespeare as the mind of the great world does,

He was not for an age but for all time,

was greater than

the comparison Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome, Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come.

To the oratory of Bacon he gives the same praise in the same noble measure. "I have and do reverence him for the greatness that was only proper to himself..." Against Machiavel's "a Prince should exercise his cruelty by his ministers and not by himself," Jonson nobly replies, "But I say he puts off man, and goes into a beast, that is cruel," though indeed beasts are not wittingly cruel, and the man that is cruel goes into a devil. Jonson is always manly: his thoughts are ponderous and just rather than remarkable for novelty; they do not cling, like Bacon's, to the memory of the race, nor shine in so many facets with such imperishable colours.