Volume 18 — DRYDEN’S LETTERS. LETTER I. TO THE FAIRE HANDS OF MADAME HONOR DRYDEN THESE CRAVE ADMITTANCE.56 (continued 2)

For Mrs Stuart, Att Cotterstock near Oundle, In Northamptonshire, These. To be left with the Postmaster of Oundle.

LETTER XXXIX. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES MONTAGUE.161

SIR, [Octob. 1699.]

These verses162 had waited on you with the former, but that they wanted that correction which I have given them, that they may the better endure the sight of so great a judge and poet. I am now in feare that I purged them out of their spirit; as our Master Busby us’d to whip a boy so long, till he made him a confirm’d blockhead. My Cousin Driden saw them in the country; and the greatest exception he made to them Avas a satire against the Dutch valour in the last war. He desir’d me to omit it, (to use his own words) “out of the respect he had to his Sovereign.” I obeyed his commands, and left onely the praises, which I think are due to the gallantry of my own countrymen. In the description which I have made of a Parliament-man,163 I think I have not only drawn the features of my worthy kinsman, but have also given my own opinion of what an Englishman in Parliament ought to be; and deliver it as a memorial of my own principles to all posterity. I have consulted the judgment of my unbyass’d friends, who have some of them the honour to be known to you: and they think there is nothing which can justly give offence in that part of the poem. I say not this to cast a blind on your judgment, (which I could not do, if I endeavoured it,) but to assure you, that nothing relateing to the publique shall stand without your permission; for it were to want common sence to desire your patronage, and resolve to disoblige you. And as I will not hazard my hopes of your protection, by refusing to obey you in any thing which I can perform with my conscience or my honour, so I am very confident you will never impose any other terms on me. My thoughts at present are fix’d on Homer; and by my translation of the first Iliad, I find him a poet more according to my genius than Virgil, and consequently hope I may do him more justice in his fiery way of writeing; which, as it is liable to more faults, so it is capable of more beauties, than the exactness and sobriety of Virgil. Since ’tis for my country’s honour, as well as for my own, that I am willing to undertake this task, I despair not of being encourag’d in it by your favour, who am

Sir, Your most obedient servant, John Dryden.

LETTER XL. TO MRS STEWARD.

MADAM, Nov. 7th, [1699.]

Even your expostulations are pleasing to me; for though they shew you angry, yet they are not without many expressions of your kindness; and therefore I am proud to be so chidden. Yet I cannot so farr abandon my own defence, as to confess any idleness or forgetfulness on my part. What has hind’red me from writeing to you, was neither ill health, nor, a worse thing, ingratitude; but a flood of little businesses, which yet are necessary to my subsistance, and of which I hop’d to have given you a good account before this time: but the court rather speaks kindly of me, than does any thing for me, though they promise largely; and perhaps they think I will advance as they go backward, in which they will be much deceiv’d; for I can never go an inch beyond my conscience and my honour.164 If they will consider me as a man who has done my best to improve the language, and especially the poetry, and will be content with my acquiescence under the present government, and forbearing satire on it, that I can promise, because I can perform it; but I can neither take the oaths, nor forsake my religion; because I know not what church to go to, if I leave the Catholique; they are all so divided amongst them selves in matters of faith necessary to salvation, and, yet all assumeing the name of Protestants. May God be pleas’d to open your eyes, as he has open’d mine! Truth is but one; and they who have once heard of it, can plead no excuse, if they do not embrace it. But these are things too serious for a trifling letter.

If you desire to hear any thing more of my affairs, the Earl of Dorsett, and your cousin Montague, have both seen the two poems, to the Duchess of Ormond, and my worthy cousin Driden; and are of opinion, that I never writt better. My other friends are divided in their judgments, which to preferr; but the greater part are for those to my dear kinsman; which I have corrected with so much care, that they will now be worthy of his sight, and do neither of us any dishonour after our death.

There is this day to be acted a new tragedy, made by Mr Hopkins,165 and, as I believe, in rhime. He has formerly written a play in verse, call’d “Boadicea,” which you fair ladyes lik’d; and is a poet who writes good verses without knowing how or why; I mean, he writes naturally well, without art, or learning, or good sence. Congreve is ill of the gout at Barnet Wells. I have had the honour of a visite from the Earl of Dorsett, and din’d with him.—Matters in Scotland are in a high ferment,166 and next door to a breach betwixt the two nations; but they say from court, that France and we are hand and glove. ’Tis thought, the king will endeavour to keep up a standing army, and make the stirr in Scotland his pretence for it; my cousin Driden,167 and the country party, I suppose, will be against it; for when a spirit is rais’d, ’tis hard conjuring him down again.—You see I am dull by my writeing news; but it may be my cousin Creed168 may be glad to hear what I believe is true, though not very pleasing. I hope he recovers health in the country, by his staying so long in it. My service to my cousin Stuart, and all at Oundle. I am, faire Cousine,

Your most obedient servant, John Dryden.

For Mrs Stuart, Att Cotterstock, near Oundle, In Northamptonshyre, These. To be left at the Posthouse in Oundle.

LETTER XLI TO MRS ELIZABETH THOMAS, JUN.169

MADAM, Nov. 12, 1699.

The letter you were pleas’d to direct for me, to be left at the coffee-house last summer, was a great honour; and your verses170 were, I thought, too good to be a woman’s; some of my friends, to whom I read them, were of the same opinion. ’Tis not over-gallant, I must confess, to say this of the fair sex; but most certain it is, that they generally write with more softness than strength. On the contrary, you want neither vigour in your thoughts, nor force in your expressions, nor harmony in your numbers; and methinks I find much of Orinda171 in your manner; to whom I had the honour to be related, and also to be known. But I continued not a day in the ignorance of the person to whom I was oblig’d; for, if you remember, you brought the verses to a bookseller’s shop, and enquir’d there, how they might be sent to me. There happen’d to be in the same shop a gentleman, who heareing you speak of me, and seeing a paper in your hand, imagin’d it was a libel against me, and had you watch’d by his servant, till he knew both your name, and where you liv’d, of which he sent me word immediately. Though I have lost his letter, yet I remember you live some where about St Giles’s,172 and are an only daughter. You must have pass’d your time in reading much better books than mine; or otherwise you cou’d not have arriv’d to so much knowledge as I find you have. But whether Sylph or Nymph, I know not: those fine creatures, as your author, Count Gabalis, assures us,173 have a mind to be christen’d, and since you do me the favour to desire a name from me, take that of Corinna, if you please; I mean not the lady with whom Ovid was in love, but the famous Theban poetess, who overcame Pindar five times, as historians tell us. I would have call’d you Sapho, but that I hear you are handsomer. Since you find I am not altogether a stranger to you, be pleas’d to make me happier by a better knowledge of you; and in stead of so many unjust praises which you give me, think me only worthy of being,

Madam, Your most humble servant, and admirer, John Dryden.

LETTER XLII. TO MRS ELIZABETH THOMAS, JUN.174

MADAM, [Nov. 1699.]

The great desire which I observe in you to write well, and those good parts which God Almighty and nature have bestow’d on you, make me not to doubt, that, by application to study, and the reading of the best authors, you may be absolute mistress of poetry. ’Tis an unprofitable art to those who profess it; but you, who write only for your diversion, may pass your hours with pleasure in it, and without prejudice; always avoiding (as I know you will,) the licence which Mrs Behn175 allow’d her self, of writeing loosely, and giveing, if I may have leave to say so, some scandall to the modesty of her sex. I confess, I am the last man who ought, in justice, to arraign her, who have been my self too much a libertine in most of my poems; which I shou’d be well contented I had time either to purge, or to see them fairly burn’d. But this I need not say to you, who are too well born, and too well principled, to fall into that mire.

In the mean time, I would advise you not to trust too much to Virgil’s Pastorals; for as excellent as they are, yet Theocritus is far before him, both in softness of thought, and simplicity of expression. Mr Creech has translated that Greek poet, which I have not read in English. If you have any considerable faults, they consist chiefly in the choice of words, and the placeing them so as to make the verse run smoothly; but I am at present so taken up with my own studies, that I have not leisure to descend to particulars; being, in the mean time, the fair Corinna’s

Most humble and most faithful Servant, John Dryden.

P.S. I keep your two copies176 till you want them, and are pleas’d to send for them.

LETTER XLIII. TO MRS STEWARD.

Saturday, Nov. 26, [1699.]

After a long expectation, Madam, at length your happy letter came to your servant, who almost despair’d of it. The onely comfort I had, was, my hopes of seeing you, and that you defer’d writeing, because you wou’d surprise me with your presence, and beare your relations company to town.—Your neighbour, Mr Price, has given me an apprehension, that my cousin, your father, is in some danger of being made sheriff the following yeare; but I hope ’tis a jealousy without ground, and that the warm season only keeps him in the country.—If you come up next week, you will be entertain’d with a new tragedy, which the author of it, one Mr Dennis, cries up at an excessive rate; and Colonel Codrington, who has seen it, prepares the world to give it loud applauses. ’Tis called “Iphigenia,” and imitated from Euripides, an old Greek poet.177 This is to be acted at Betterton’s house; and another play of the same name is very shortly to come on the stage in Drury-Lane.—I was lately to visite the Duchess of Norfolk;178 and she speaks of you with much affection and respect. Your cousin Montague,179 after the present session of parliament, will be created Earl of Bristoll.180 and I hope is much my friend: but I doubt I am in no condition of having a kindness done, having the Chancellour181 my enemy; and not being capable of renounceing the cause for which I have so long suffer’d,—My cousin Driden of Chesterton is in town, and lodges with my brother in Westminster.182 My sonn has seen him, and was very kindly received by him.—Let this letter stand for nothing, because it has nothing but news in it, and has so little of the main business, which is to assure my fair cousine how much I am her admirer, and her

Most devoted Servant, John Dryden.

I write no recommendations of service to our friends at Oundle, because I suppose they are leaveing that place; but I wish my Cousin Stuart a boy, as like Miss Jem:183 as he and you can make him. My wife and sonn are never forgetfull of their acknowledgments to you both.

For Mrs Stuart, Att Cotterstock near Oundle, in the County of Northampton, These. To be left at the Posthouse in Oundle.

LETTER XLIV. TO MRS STEWARD.

MADAM, Thursday, Dec. the 14, 1699.

When I have either too much business or want of health, to write to you, I count my time is lost, or at least my conscience accuses me that I spend it ill. At this time my head is full of cares, and my body ill at ease. My book is printing,184 and my bookseller makes no hast. I had last night at bed-time an unwelcome fit of vomiting; and my sonn, Charles, lyes sick upon his bed with the colique, which has been violent upon him for almost a week. With all this, I cannot but remember that you accus’d me of barbarity, I hope in jeast onely, for mistaking one sheriff for another, which proceeded from my want of heareing well. I am heartily sorry that a chargeable office is fallen on my cousin Stuart.185 But my Cousin Driden comforts me, that it must have come one time or other, like the small-pox; and better have it young than old. I hope it will leave no great marks behind it, and that your fortune will no more feel it than your beauty, by the addition of a year’s wearing. My cousine, your mother, was heer yesterday, to see my wife, though I had not the happiness to be at home.—Both the “Iphigenias” have been play’d with bad success;186 and being both acted one against the other in the same week, clash’d together, like two rotten ships which could not endure the shock, and sunk to rights. The King’s proclamation against vice and profaneness is issued out in print;187 but a deep disease is not to be cur’d with a slight medicine. The parsons, who must read it, will find as little effect from it, as from their dull sermons: ’tis a scare-crow, which will not fright many birds from preying on the fields and orchards. The best news I heare is, that the land will not be charg’d very deep this yeare: let that comfort you for your shrievalty, and continue me in your good graces, who am, fair cousin,

Your most faithfull oblig’d servant, Jo. Dryden.

For Mrs Stuart, Att Cotterstock, near Oundle, in Northamptonshyre, These. To be left with the Postmaster of Oundle.

LETTER XLV. TO MRS ELIZABETH THOMAS, JUN.

MADAM, Friday, Dec. 29, 1699.

I have sent your poems back again, after having kept them so long from you; by which you see I am like the rest of the world, an impudent borrower, and a bad pay-master. You take more care of my health than it deserves; that of an old man is always crazy, and, at present, mine is worse than usual, by a St Anthony’s fire in one of my legs; though the swelling is much abated, yet the pain is not wholly gone, and I am too weak to stand upon it. If I recover, it is possible I may attempt Homer’s Iliad. A specimen of it (the first book) is now in the press, among other poems of mine, which will make a volume in folio, of twelve shillings’ price; and will be published within this month. I desire, fair author, that you will be pleas’d to continue me in your good graces, who am, with all sincerity and gratitude,

Your most humble servant, and admirer, John Dryden.

LETTER XLVI. TO MRS STEWARD.

MADAM, Feb. 23d. [1699-1700.]

Though I have not leisure to thank you for the last trouble I gave you, yet haveing by me two lampoons lately made, I know not but they may be worth your reading; and therefore have presum’d to send them. I know not the authours; but the town will be ghessing. The “Ballad of the Pews,” which are lately rais’d higher at St James’s church,188 is by some sayd to be Mr Manwareing, or my Lord Peterborough. The poem of the “Confederates” some think to be Mr Walsh: the copies are both lik’d.189 And there are really two factions of ladyes, for the two playhouses. If you do not understand the names of some persons mention’d, I can help you to the knowledge of them. You know Sir Tho: Skipwith is master of the playhouse in Drury-Lane; and my Lord Scarsdale is the patron of Betterton’s house, being in love with somebody there. The Lord Scott is second sonn to the Duchess of Monmouth. I need not tell you who my Lady Darentwater is; but it may be you know not her Lord is a poet,and none of the best. Forgive this hasty billet from

Your most obliged servant, John Dryden.

For Mrs Stewart, Att Cotterstock, near Oundle, in Northamptonshyre, These. To be left with the Postmaster of Oundle.

LETTER XLVII. TO MRS STEWARD.

MADAM, Tuesday, March 12th, 1699 [-1700.]

’Tis a week since I received the favour of a letter, which I have not yet, acknowledg’d to you. About that time my new poems were publish’d, which are not come till this day into my hands. They are a debt to you, I must confess; and I am glad, because they are so unworthy to be made a present. Your sisters, I hope, will be so kind to have them convey’d to you; that my writeings may have the honour of waiting on you, which is deny’d to me. The town encourages them with more applause than any thing of mine deserves; and particularly, my cousin Driden accepted one from me so very indulgently, that it makes me more and more in love with him. But all our hopes of the House of Commons are wholly dash’d. Our proprieties are destroy’d; and rather than we shou’d not perish, they have made a breach in the Magna Charta;203 for which God forgive them! Congreve’s new play has had but moderate success, though it deserves much better.204 I am neither in health, nor do I want afflictions of any kind; but am, in all conditions,

Madam, Your most oblig’d obedient servant, John Dryden.

For Mrs Stuart, att Cotterstock, near Oundle, These. By the Oundle Carrier, with a book directed to her, These. Northamptonshyre.

LETTER XLVIII. TO MRS STEWARD.

MADAM, Thursday, April the 11th, 1700.

The ladies of the town have infected you at a distance; they are all of your opinion, and, like my last book of Poems,205 better than any thing they have formerly seen of mine. I always thought my verses to my cousin Driden were the best of the whole; and to my comfort, the town thinks them so; and he, which pleases me most, is of the same judgment, as appears by a noble present he has sent me, which surprised me, because I did not in the least expect it. I doubt not, but he receiv’d what you were pleas’d to send him; because he sent me the letter, which you did me the favour to write me. At this very instant, I heare the guns, which, going off, give me to understand, that the King is goeing to the Parliament to pass acts, and consequently to prorogue them; for yesterday I heard, that both he and the Lords have given up the cause, and the House of Commons have gained an entire victory.206 Though under the rose, I am of opinion, that much of the confidence is abated on either side, and that whensoever they meet next, it will give that House a farther occasion of encroaching on the prerogative and the Lords; for they, who beare the purse, will rule. The Parliament being risen, my cousin Driden will immediately be with you, and, I believe, return his thanks in person. All this while I am lame at home, and have not stirr’d abroad this moneth at least. Neither my wife nor Charles are well, but have intrusted their service in my hand. I humbly add my own to the unwilling High Sheriff,207 and wish him fairly at an end of his trouble.

The latter end of last week, I had the honour of a visite from my cousine, your mother, and my cousine Dorothy, with which I was much comforted. Within this moneth there will be play’d, for my profit, an old play of Fletcher’s, call’d the “Pilgrim,” corrected by my good friend Mr Vanbrook;208 to which I have added a new masque; and am to write a new prologue and epilogue. Southern’s tragedy, call’d the “Revolt of Capua,” will be play’d at Betterton’s house within this fortnight. I am out with that Company, and therefore, if I can help it, will not read it before ’tis acted, though the authour much desires I shou’d. Do not think I will refuse a present from fair hands; for I am resolv’d to save my bacon. I beg your pardon for this slovenly letter; but I have not health to transcribe it.209 My service to my cousin, your brother, who, I heare, is happy in your company, which he is not who most desires it, and who is, Madam,

Your most obliged obedient Servant, John Dryden.

For Mrs Stuart, Att Cotterstock, near Oundle, in Northamptonshyre, These. To be left with the Postmaster of Oundle.