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.

APPENDIX.

APPENDIX.

No. I.

Dryden’s Degree as Master of Arts, granted by the Archbishop of Canterbury, preserved in the Faculty Book, (Book 6. p. 236. b.)

“Dispensatio Joanni Dryden, pro gradu Artium Magistri.

“Gilbertus providentiâ divinâ Cantuariensis Archiepiscopus, &c. dilecto nobis in Christo Joanni Dryden, in Artibus Baccalaureo, perantiquâ Dreydenorum familiâ in agro Northamptoniensi oriundo, salutem et gratiam. Quum in scholis rite constitutis mos laudabilis et consuetudo invaluerit, approbatione tam ecclesiarum bene reformatarum, quam hominum doctissimorum, à multis retrò annis, ut quicunque in aliqua artium liberalium scientia cum laude desudaverint, insigni aliquo dignitatis gradu decorarentur. Quum etiam, publicâ legum auctoritate muniti, Cantuarienses Archiepiscopi gradus prædictos et honoris titulos in homines bene merentes conferendi potestate gaudeant et jamdudum gavisi sint, prout ex libro authentico de Facultatibus taxandis Parlamenti auctoritate confirmato pleniùs apparet; Nos igitur prædictà auctoritate freti, et antecessorum nostrorum exemplum imitati, te Joannem prædictum, cujus vitæ probitas, bonarum literarum scientiá, morumque integritas, vel ipsius domini Regis testimonio, perspectæ sunt, MAGISTRI IN ARTIBUS titulo et gradu insigniri decrevimus, et tenore presentium in Artibus Magistrum actualem creamus, pariterque in numerum Magistrorum in Artibus hujusce regni aggregamus; juramento infra scripto priùs per nos de te exacto, et a te jurato:—Ego Joannes Dryden, ad gradum et titulum Magistri in Artibus, per Reverendissimum in Christo patron ac dominum, Gilbertum divinâ providentiâ Cantuariensem Archiepiscopum, totius Angliæ Primatem et Metropolitanum, admittendus, teste mihi conscientiâ testificor serenissimum nostrum regem Carolum Secundum esse unicum et supremum gubernatorem hujusce regni Angliæ, &c. sicut me Deus adjuvet, per sacra Dei evangelia.—Proviso semper quod hæ literæ tibi non proficiant, nisi registrentur et subscribantur per Clericum Regiæ Majestatis ad Facultates in Cancellaria.

“Dat. sub sigillo de Facultatibus, decimo septimo die mensis Junii, Anno Domini 1668, et nostræ translationis anno quinto.”

No. II.
DRYDEN’S PATENT.
Pat. 22. Car. II. p. 6. n. 6.

Charles the Second, by the grace of God, of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, king, defender of the faith, &c. to the lords commissioners of our treasury, treasurer, chancellor, under-treasurer, chamberlaines, and barons of the exchequer, of us, our heires and successors, now being, and that hereafter shall bee, and to all other the officers and ministers of our said court and of the receipt there, now being and that hereafter shall bee; and to all others to whom these presents shall come, greeting.

Know yee, that wee, for and in consideration of the many good and acceptable services by John Dryden, Master of Arts, and eldest sonne of Erasmus Dryden, of Tichmarsh, in the county of Northampton, esquire, to us heretofore done and performed, and taking notice of the learning and eminent abilities of him the said John Dryden, and of his great skill and elegant style both in verse and prose, and for diverse other good causes and considerations us thereunto especially moving, have nominated, constituted, declared, and appointed, and by these presents do nominate, constitute, declare, and appoint him, the said John Dryden, our Poet Laureat and Historiographer Royal; giving and granting unto him, the said John Dryden, all and singular the rights, privileges, benefits, and advantages thereunto belonging, as fully and amply as Sir Geoffery Chaucer, knight, Sir John Gower, knight, John Leland, esquire, William Camden, esquire, Benjamin Johnson, esquire, James Howell, esquire, Sir William D’Avenant, knight, or any other person or persons having or exercising the place or employment of Poet Laureat or Historiographer, or either of them, in the time of any of our royal progenitors, had or received, or might lawfully claim or demand, as incident or belonging unto the said places or employments, or either of them. And for the further and better encouragement of him, the said John Dryden, diligently to attend the said employment, we are graciously pleased to give and grant, and by these presents, for us, our heirs and successors, do give and grant, unto the said John Dryden, one annuity or yearly pension of two hundred pounds of lawful money of England, during our pleasure, to have and to hold, and yearly to receive the said annuity or pension of two hundred pounds of lawful money of England by the yeare, unto the said John Dryden and his assigns, from the death of the said Sir William D’Avenant lately deceased, for and during our pleasure, at the receipt of the exchequer, of us, our heirs and successors, out of the treasure of us, our heirs and successors, from time to time there remaining, by the hands of the treasurer or treasurers and chamberlains of us, our heirs and successors, there for the time being, at the four usual terms of the year, that is to say, at the feast of the nativity of St John the Baptist, St Michael the Archangel, the birth of our Lord God, and the annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, by even and equal portions to be paid, the first payment thereof to begin at the feast of the nativity of St John the Baptist next and immediately after the death of the said Sir William D’Avenant, deceased. Wherefore our will and pleasure is, and we do by these presents, for us, our heirs and successors, require, command, and authorize the said lords commissioners of our treasury, treasurer, chancellor, under-treasurer, chamberlains, and barons, and other officers and ministers of the said exchequer now and for the time being, not only to pay, or cause to be paid, unto the said John Dryden and his assigns, the said annuity or yearly pension of two hundred pounds of lawful money of England, according to our will and pleasure herein before expressed, but also from time to time to give full allowance of the same, according to the true meaning of these presents. And these presents, or the inrolment thereof, shall be unto all men whom it shall concern a sufficient warrant and discharge for the paying and allowing of the same accordingly, without any further or other warrant procured or obtained. And further, know ye, that we, of our especial grace, certain knowledge, and mere motion, have given and granted, and by these presents, for us, our heirs and successors, do give and grant, unto the said John Dryden and his assigns, one butt or pipe of the best canary wine, to have, hold, receive, perceive, and take the said butt or pipe of canary wine unto the said John Dryden and his assigns, during our pleasure, out of our store of wines yearly and from time to time remaining at or in our cellars within or belonging to our palace of Whitehall. And for the better effecting of our will and pleasure herein, we do hereby require and command all and singular our officers, and ministers whom it shall or may concern, or who shall have the care or charge of our said wines, that they, or some of them, do deliver, or cause to be delivered, the said butt or pipe of wine yearly, and once in every year, unto the said John Dryden or his assigns, during our pleasure, at such time and times as he or they shall demand or desire the same. And these presents, or the inrolment thereof, shall be unto all men whom it shall concern, a sufficient warrant and discharge in that behalf, although express mention, &c. In witness, &c.

Witness the King at Westminster, the eighteenth day of August. [1670.]

Per breve de privato sigillo.

No. III.
THE
AGREEMENT CONCERNING THE FABLES

I doe hereby promise to pay John Dryden, Esquire, or order, on the 25th of March, 1699, the sume of two hundred and fifty guineas, in consideration of ten thousand verses, which the said John Dryden, Esquire, is to deliver to me Jacob Tonson, when finished, whereof seaven thousand five hundred verses, more or lesse, are already in the said Jacob Tonson’s possession. And I do hereby further promise and engage my selfe to make up the said sume of two hundred and fifty guineas, three hundred pounds sterling, to the said John Dryden, Esquire, his executors, administrators, or assigns, att the beginning of the second impression of the said ten thousand verses. In witnesse whereof, I have hereunto sett my hand and seal this twentieth day of March, 1698-9.

Jacob Tonson.

Sealed and delivered, being first stampt pursuant to the acts of Parliament for that purpose, in the presence of Benj. Portlock, Will Congreve.

March the twenty-fourth, 1698.

Received then of Mr Jacob Tonson the sum of two hundred sixty-eight pounds fifteen shillings, in pursuance of an agreement for ten thousand verses to be delivered by me to the said Jacob Tonson, whereof I have already delivered to him about seven thousand five hundred, more or less: he the sayd Jacob Tonson being obliged to make up the foresayd sum of two hundred sixty-eight pounds fifteen shillings, three hundred pounds, at the beginning of the second impression or the foresayd ten thousand verses.

I say, received by me, John Dryden.

Witness, Charles Dryden.

The following receipt is written on the back of Jacob Tonson’s Agreement, dated March 20, 1698-9.

June 11, 1713. Received of the within-named Jacob Tonson, thirty-one pounds five shillings, which, with two hundred sixty-eight pounds fifteen shillings paid Mr John Dryden the 24th of March 1698, is in full for the copy of a book intituled “Dryden’s Fables,” consisting of ten thousand verses, more or lesse: I say received as administratrix to the said John Dryden, of such effects as were not administered to by Charles Dryden.

Ann Sylvius.

Witnesses, Eliz. Jones. Jacob Tonson, Jun^r.

Paid Mr Dryden, March the 23d, 1698.

No. IV.
MR RUSSEL’s BILL
FOR
MR DRYDEN’S FUNERALLS.

For the funerall of Esq^re Dryden.

We may add to these accounts the Description of the Funeral itself, extracted from the London Spy of Ward, who was doubtless a spectator.

“A deeper concern hath scarce been known to affect in general the minds of grateful and ingenious men, than the melancholy surprise of the worthy Mr Dryden’s death hath occasioned through the whole town, as well as in all other parts of the kingdom, where any persons either of wit or learning have taken up their residence. Wheresoever his incomparable writings have been scattered by the hands of the travellers into foreign nations, the loss of so great a man must needs be lamented amongst their bards and rabbies; and ’tis reasonable to believe the commendable industry of translations has been such, to render several of his most accurate performances into their own language, that their native country might receive the benefit, and themselves the reputation of so laudable an undertaking: and how far the wings of merit have conveyed the pleasing fruits of his exuberant fancy, is a difficult conjecture, considering what a continual correspondence our nation has with most parts of the universe. For it is reasonable to believe all Christian kingdoms and colonies at least, have been as much the better for his labours, as the world is the worse for the loss of him. Those who were his enemies while he was living, (for no man lives without,) his death has now made such friends to his memory, that they acknowledge they cannot but in justice give him this character, that he was one of the greatest scholars, the most correct dramatic poet, and the best writer of heroic verse, that any age has produced in England. And yet, to verify the old proverb, that poets, like prophets, have little honour in their own countries, notwithstanding his merits had justly entitled his corpse to the most magnificent and solemn interment the beneficence of the greatest spirits could have bestowed on him; yet, ’tis credibly reported, the ingratitude of the age is such, that they had like to have let him pass in private to his grave, without those funeral obsequies suitable to his greatness, had it not been for that true British worthy, who, meeting with the venerable remains of the neglected bard passing silently in a coach, unregarded to his last home, ordered the corpse, by the consent of his few friends that attended him, to be respited from so obscure an interment, and most generously undertook, at his own expence, to revive his worth in the minds of a forgetful people, by bestowing on his peaceful dust a solemn funeral answerable to his merit; which memorable action alone will eternalize his fame with the greatest heroes, and add that lustre to his nobility, which time can never tarnish, but will shine with equal glory in all ages, and in the very teeth of envy bid defiance to oblivion. The management of the funeral was left to Mr Russel, pursuant to the directions of that honourable great man the lord Jefferies, concerned chiefly in the pious undertaking.

“The first honour done to his deserving relics, was lodging them in Physicians College, from whence they were appointed to take their last remove. The constituted day for the celebration of that office, which living heroes perform in respect to a dead worthy, was Monday the 13th of May, in the afternoon; at which time, according to the notice given, most of the nobility and gentry now in town assembled themselves together at the noble edifice aforesaid, in order to honour the corpse with their personal attendance. When the company were met, a performance of grave music, adapted to the solemn occasion, was communicated to the ears of the company, by the hands of the best masters in England, whose artful touches on their soft instruments diffused such harmonious influence amongst the attentive auditory, that the most heroic spirits in the whole assembly were unable to resist the passionate force of each dissolving strain, but melted into tears for the loss of so elegant and sweet a ravisher of human minds; and, notwithstanding their undaunted bravery, which had oft scorned death in the field, yet now, by music’s enchantment at the funeral of so great a poet, were softened beneath their own natures, into a serious reflection on mortality.

“When this part of the solemnity was ended, the famous Doctor G——th ascended the pulpit where the physicians make their lectures, and delivered, according to the Roman custom, a funeral oration in Latin on his deceased friend, which he performed with great approbation and applause of all such gentlemen that heard him, and were true judges of the matter; most rhetorically setting forth those elegies and encomiums which no poet hitherto, but the great Dryden, could ever truly deserve. When these rites were over in the College, the corpse, by bearers for that purpose, was handed into the hearse, being adorned with plumes of black feathers, and the sides hung round with the escutcheons of his ancestors, mixed with that of his lady’s; the hearse drawn by six stately Flanders horses; every thing being set off with the most useful ornaments to move regard, and affect the memories of the numberless spectators, as a means to encourage every sprightly genius to attempt something in their lives that may once render their dust worthy of so public a veneration. All things being put in due order for their movement, they began their solemn procession towards Westminster Abbey, after the following manner:

“The two beadles of the College marched first, in mourning cloaks and hat-bands, with the heads of their staffs wrapt in black crape scarfs, being followed by several other servile mourners, whose business was to prepare the way, that the hearse might pass less liable to interruption; next to these moved a concert of hautboys and trumpets, playing and sounding together a melancholy funeral-march, undoubtedly composed upon that particular occasion; (after these, the undertaker with his hat off, dancing through the dirt like a bear after a bagpipe. I beg the reader’s pardon for foisting in a jest in so improper a place, but as he walked by himself within a parenthesis, so I have here placed him, and hope none will be offended;) then came the hearse, as before described, most honourably attended with abundance of quality in their coaches and six horses; that it may be justly reported to posterity, no ambassador from the greatest emperor in all the universe, sent over with the welcome embassy to the throne of England, ever made his public entry to the court with half that honour as the corpse of the great Dryden did its last exit to the grave. In this order the nobility and gentry attended the hearse to Westminster Abbey, where the quire, assisted with the best masters in England, sung an Epicedium; and the last funeral rites being performed by one of the prebends, he was honourably interred between Chaucer and Cowley; where, according to report, will be erected a very stately monument, at the expence of some of the nobility, in order to recommend his worth, and to preserve his memory to all succeeding ages.”

No. V.
MRS THOMAS’S LETTERS
CONCERNING
DRYDEN’S DEATH AND FUNERAL;
Extracted from Wilson’s Life of Congreve, 1730.

[As tales of wonder are generally acceptable to the public, I insert these memorable Epistles, with the necessary caveat, that they are full of every kind of blunder and inconsistency.]

“These Memoirs were communicated to me by a lady, now living, with whom Mr Dryden corresponded under the name of Corinna, and which name he himself gave her.

’Sir,

’Mr Dryden was son of ———— Dryden, of an ancient and good family in Northamptonshire, by a sister of Sir Gilbert Pickering, Bart. of the same county; who has a handsome monument at Tichmarsh, erected in 1721, by the late widow Creed of Oundle, the daughter of another sister of Sir Gilbert’s, and niece to the famous Earl of Sandwich, who was killed in the Dutch war, 1667, being then admiral. He married Lady Elizabeth Howard, (a celebrated beauty) daughter to the old Earl of Berkshire, sister to Sir Robert Howard, Colonel Philip Howard, and Mr Edward Howard: (who wrote “The British Prince,” &c.;) she bore him three sons, Charles, John, and Harry. He lived many years in a very good house in Gerrard street, the 5th or 6th door on the left-hand from Newport-market. On the 19th of April, 1700, he said he had been very bad with the gout, and an erysipelas in one leg; but he was then very well, and designed to go soon abroad: but on the Friday following, he had eat a partridge for his supper; and going to take a turn in the little garden behind his house, was seized with a violent pain under the ball of the great-toe of his right-foot, that, unable to stand, he cried out for help, and was carried in by his servants; when, upon sending for surgeons, they found a small black spot in the place affected: He submitted to their present applications; and when gone, called his son Charles to him, using these words, “I know,” says he, “this black spot is a mortification; I know also, that it will seize my head, and that they will cut off my leg: but I command you, my son, by your filial duty, that you do not suffer me to be dismembered.” As he, too truly, foretold, the event proved; and his son was too dutiful to disobey his father’s commands. On the Wednesday morning following, being May-day, 1700, under the most excruciating dolours, he died. Dr Sprat, then bishop of Rochester, sent, on the Thursday, to Lady Elizabeth, that he would make a present of the ground, which was 40l. with all the other abbey-fees, &c. to his deceased friend. Lord Halifax sent also to my lady and Mr Charles, that if they would give him leave to bury Mr Dryden, he would inter him with a gentleman’s private funeral, and afterwards bestow 500l. on a monument in the Abbey; which, as they had no reason to refuse, they accepted. On the Saturday following the company came, the corpse was put into a velvet hearse, and eighteen mourning coaches, filled with company, attending. When, just before they began to move, Lord Jefferies, with some of his rakish companions, coming by, in wine, asked, whose funeral? and being told, “What!” cries he, “shall Dryden, the greatest honour and ornament of the nation, be buried after this private manner? No, gentlemen; let all that loved Mr Dryden, and honour his memory, alight, and join with me in gaining my lady’s consent, to let me have the honour of his interment, which shall be after another manner than this, and I will bestow 1000l. on a monument in the Abbey for him.” The gentlemen in the coaches not knowing of the bishop of Rochester’s favour, nor of Lord Halifax’s generous design, (these two noble spirits having, out of respect to the family, enjoined Lady Elizabeth and her son to keep their favour concealed to the world, and let it pass for her own expence, &c.), readily came out of the coaches, and attended Lord Jefferies up to the lady’s bed-side, who was then sick, He repeated the purport of what he had before said; but she absolutely refusing, he fell on his knees, vowing never to rise till his request was granted. The rest of the company, by his desire, kneeled also; she being naturally of a timorous disposition, and then under a sudden surprise, fainted away. As soon as she recovered her speech, she cried, no, no. Enough, gentlemen, replied he, (rising briskly,) my lady is very good; she says, go, go. She repeated her former words with all her strength, but, alas! in vain, her feeble voice was lost in their acclamations of joy; and Lord Jefferies ordered the hearsemen to carry the corpse to Russell’s, the undertaker, in Cheapside, and leave it there, till he sent orders for the embalment, which, he added, should be after the royal manner. His directions were obeyed, the company dispersed, and Lady Elizabeth and Mr Charles remained inconsolable. Next morning Mr Charles waited on Lord Halifax, &c. to excuse his mother and self, by relating the real truth: but neither his lordship, nor the bishop, would admit of any plea; especially the latter, who had the Abbey lighted, the ground opened, the choir attending, an anthem ready set, and himself waiting, for some hours, without any corpse to bury, Russel, after three days expectance of orders for embalment, without receiving any, waits on Lord Jefferies, who, pretending ignorance of the matter, turned it off with an ill-natured jest, saying, “Those who observed the orders of a drunken frolic, deserved no better; that he remembered nothing at all of it, and he might do what he pleased with the corpse.” On this Mr Russell waits on Lady Elizabeth and Mr Dryden; but, alas! it was not in their power to answer. The season was very hot, the deceased had lived high and fast; and being corpulent, and abounding with gross humours, grew very offensive. The undertaker, in short, threatened to bring home the corpse, and set it before their door. It cannot be easily imagined, what grief, shame, and confusion, seized this unhappy family. They begged a day’s respite, which was granted. Mr Charles wrote a very handsome letter to Lord Jefferies, who returned it, with this cool answer, “He knew nothing of the matter, and would be troubled no more about it.” He then addressed the Lord Halifax and bishop of Rochester, who were both too justly, though unhappily, incensed, to do any thing in it. In this extreme distress, Dr Garth, a man who entirely loved Mr Dryden, and was withal a man of generosity and great humanity, sends for the corpse to the College of Physicians in Warwicklane, and proposed a funeral by subscription, to which himself set a most noble example; Mr Wycherley, and several others, among whom must not be forgotten, Henry Cromwell, Esq. Captain Gibbons, and Mr Christopher Metcalfe, Mr Dryden’s apothecary and intimate friend, (since a collegiate physician,) who, with many others, contributed most largely to the subscription; and at last a day, about three weeks after his decease, was appointed for the interment at the Abbey. Dr Garth pronounced a fine Latin oration over the corpse at the College; but the audience being numerous, and the room large, it was requisite the orator should be elevated, that he might be heard; but, as it unluckily happened, there was nothing at hand but an old beer-barrel, which the doctor, with much good-nature, mounted; and, in the midst of his oration, beating time to the accent with his foot, the head broke in, and his feet sunk to the bottom, which occasioned the malicious report of his enemies, that he was turned a tub-preacher: However, he finished the oration with a superior grace and genius, to the loud acclamations of mirth, which inspired the mixed or rather mob-auditors. The procession began to move, a numerous train of coaches attended the hearse; but, good God! in what disorder, can only be expressed by a sixpenny pamphlet, soon after published, entitled, “Dryden’s Funeral.” At last the corpse arrived at the Abbey, which was all unlighted. No organ played, no anthem sung; only two of the singing boys preceded the corpse, who sung an ode of Horace, with each a small candle in their hand. The butchers and other mob broke in like a deluge, so that only about eight or ten gentlemen could get admission, and those forced to cut the way with their drawn swords. The coffin, in this disorder, was let down into Chaucer’s grave, with as much confusion, and as little ceremony, as was possible; every one glad to save themselves from the gentlemen’s swords, or the clubs of the mob. When the funeral was over, Mr Charles sent a challenge to Lord Jefferies, who refusing to answer it, he sent several others, and went often himself, but could neither get a letter delivered, nor admittance to speak to him; which so justly incensed him, that he resolved, since his lordship refused to answer him like a gentleman, he would watch an opportunity to meet him, and fight off hand, though with all the rules of honour; which his lordship hearing, left the town; and Mr Charles could never have the satisfaction to meet him, though he sought it till his death with the utmost application. This is the true state of the case, and surely no reflection to the manes of this great man.

“Thus it is very plain, that his being buried by contribution, was owing to a vile drunken frolic of the Lord Jefferies, as I have related. Mr Dryden enjoyed himself in plenty, while he lived, and the surplusage of his goods paid all his debts. After his decease, the Lady Elizabeth, his widow, took a lesser house in Sherrard-street, Golden-square, and had wherewithal to live frugally genteel, and keep two servants, to the day of her death, by the means of a small part of her fortune, which her relations had obliged Mr Dryden to secure to her on marriage. This was 80l. per annum, and duly paid at 20l. per quarter; so that, I can assure you, there was no want to her dying-day. He had only three sons, and all provided for like gentlemen. Mr Charles had served the Pontiff of Rome above nine years, in an honourable and profitable post, as usher to the palace, out of which he had an handsome stipend remitted by his brother John, whom, by the pope’s favour, he left to officiate, while he came to visit his father, who dying soon after his arrival, he returned no more to Italy, but was unhappily drowned at Windsor in swimming cross the river. Mr John died in his post at Rome, and Harry the youngest was a religious; he had 30l. a year allowed by his college in Flanders, besides a generous salary from his near relation the too well-known Duchess of Norfolk, to whom he was domestic chaplain. Behold the great wants of this deplorable family!

I am, Sir, Your’s, &c. Corinna.

May 15, 1729.

P. S. ‘Mr Dryden was educated at Westminster school, under the great Dr Bushby, being one of the king’s scholars upon the royal foundation.’

’Sir,

’Upon recollection, I think it must have been that remarkably fine gentleman, Pope Clement XI., to whom Mr Charles Dryden was usher of the palace. His brother John died of a fever at Rome, not many months after his father, and was buried there; whether before the pope or after I cannot say; but the difference was not much. Mr Charles, who was drowned at Windsor, 1704, was doubtless buried there. Lady Elizabeth lived about eight years after her spouse, and for five years of the time, without any memory, which she lost by a fever in 1703; she was a melancholy object, and was, by her son Harry, as I was told, carried into the country, where she died. What country I never heard. I cannot certainly say where Mr Harry died, or whether before his mother or after.

’Mr Dryden never had any wife but Lady Elizabeth, whatever may have been reported.

’As he was a man of a versatile genius, he took great delight in judicial astrology; though only by himself. There were some incidents which proved his great skill, that were related to Lady Chudleigh at the Bath, and which she desired me to ask Lady Elizabeth about, as I after did; which she not only confirmed, by telling me the exact matter of fact, but added another, which had never been told to any; and which I can solemnly aver was some years before it came to pass. I purposely omitted these Narratives in the Memoirs of Mr Dryden, lest that this over-witty age, which so much ridicules prescience, should think the worse of all the rest; but, if you desire particulars, they shall be freely at your service.

I am, Sir, Your’s, &c. Corinna.

16th June, 1729.

The Narratives referred to in the foregoing Letter, viz.

’Notwithstanding Mr Dryden was a great master of that branch of astronomy, called judicial astrology, there were very few, scarce any, the most intimate of his friends, who knew of his amusements that way, except his own family. In the year 1707, that deservedly celebrated Lady Chudleigh being at the Bath, was told by the Lady Elizabeth of a very surprising instance of this judgement on his eldest son Charles’s horoscope. Lady Chudleigh, whose superior genius rendered her as little credulous on the topic of prescience, as she was on that of apparitions; yet withal was of so candid and curious a disposition, that she neither credited an attested tale on the quality or character of the relater, nor did she altogether despise it, though told by the most ignorant: Her steady zeal for truth always led her to search to the foundation, of it; and on that principle, at her return to London, she spoke to a gentlewoman of her acquaintance, that was well acquainted in Mr Dryden’s family, to ask his widow about it; which she accordingly did. It is true, report has added many incidents to matter of fact; but the real truth, taken from Lady Elizabeth’s own mouth, is in these words:

‘When I was in labour of Charles, Mr Dryden being told it was decent to withdraw, laid his watch on the table, begging one of the ladies, then present, in a most solemn manner, to take an exact notice of the very minute when the child was born: which she did, and acquainted him therewith. This passed without any singular notice; many fathers having had such a fancy, without any farther thought. But about a week after, when I was pretty hearty, he comes into my room; ‘My dear,’ says he, ‘you little think what I have been doing this morning;’ “nor ever shall,” said I, “unless you will be so good to inform me.” ‘Why, then,’ cried he, ‘I have been calculating this child’s nativity, and in grief I speak it, he was born in an evil hour; Jupiter, Venus, and the Sun, were all under the earth, and the lord of his ascendant afflicted by a hateful square of Mars and Saturn. If he lives to arrive at his eighth year, he will go near to die a violent death on his very birth-day; but if he should escape, as I see but small hopes, he will, in his twenty-third year, be under the very same evil direction: and if he should, which seems almost impossible, escape that also, the thirty-third or thirty-fourth year is, I fear’——I interrupted him here, “O, Mr Dryden, what is this you tell me? my blood runs cold at your fatal speech; recal it, I beseech you. Shall my little angel, my Dryden boy, be doomed to so hard a fate? Poor innocent, what hast thou done? No: I will fold thee in my arms, and if thou must fall, we will both perish together.” A flood of tears put a stop to my speech; and through Mr Dryden’s comfortable persuasions, and the distance of time, I began to be a little appeased, but always kept the fatal period in my mind. At last the summer arrived, August was the inauspicious month in which my dear son was to enter on his eighth year. The court being in progress, and Mr Dryden at leisure, he was invited to my brother Berkshire’s to keep the long vacation with him at Charleton in Wilts; I was also invited to my uncle Mordaunt’s, to pass the remainder of the summer at his country-seat. All this was well enough; but when we came to dividing the children, I would have had him took John, and let me have the care of Charles; because, as I told him, a man might be engaged in company, but a woman could have no pretence for not guarding of the evil hour. Poor Mr Dryden was in this too absolute, and I as positive. In fine, we parted in anger; and, as a husband always will be master, he took Charles, and I was forced to be content with my son John. But when the fatal day approached, such anguish of heart seized me, as none but a fond mother can form any idea of. I watched the post; that failed: I wrote and wrote, but no answer. Oh, my friend! judge what I endured, terrified with dreams, tormented by my apprehensions. I abandoned myself to despair, and remained inconsolable.