Imatges de pàgina
PDF
EPUB

palın and laurel, and on the other two antique shields, Markham's "Farewell to Husbandry," published in 1620, one bearing the cross and the other the harp, surrounded by the various agricultural and gardening implements may be the words GOD WITH US. Their small silver coins had the seen. arms only without any legend. These were all parliament money, but there were half-crowns, shillings, and sixpences with milled edges. The coins of the protectorate bear the head of Cromwell laurelled like a Cæsar, and round the head, Olivar. D. G. R. P. Ang. Sco. Hib. etc. Pro. On the reverse a shield, having in the first and fourth quarters St. George's cross, in the second St. Andrew's, in the third a harp, and in the centre a lion rampant on an escutcheonCromwell's own arms. This shield supported a royal crown. The circumscription was Pax quæritur Bello, and the date 1656, or 1658. These coins were from the dies of Symonds, and were superior to any which had appeared since the time of the Romans.

LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND THE FINE ARTS. Whilst James was hunting and levying taxes without a parliament, and Charles was in continual strife with his people for unconstitutional power and revenue, literature and art were still at work, and producing or preparing some of the noblest and choicest creations of genius. Shakespeare and Milton were the great lights of the age; but around and beside them burned a whole galaxy of lesser, but not less exquisite, luminaries, whose selected beauties are just as delightful now as they were to their contemporaries. The names of this period, to which we still turn with admiration, reverence, and affection, are chiefly Shakespeare, Milton, The coins of the commonwealth were the same for Ireland Bacon, Marlowe, Massinger, Webster, Selden, Herrick, Herand Scotland as for England. This was not the case in the bert, Quarles, Bunyan, Bishop Hall, Hales, Chillingworth, reigns of James and Charles, which, though bearing the Jeremy Taylor, Raleigh, Sir Thomas Browne, Burton (of same arms, had generally a very different value. For Ireland the "Anatomy of Melancholy"), and Drummond, of HawJames coined silver and copper money of about three-thornden. But there are numbers of others, more unequal quarters of the value of the English, and called in the base coinage used by Elizabeth in the time of the rebellion. Charles only coined some silver in 1641, during the government of lord Ormond, and therefore called Ormonds. Copper halfpence and farthings of that period are supposed to have been coined by the rebel papists of 1642.

AGRICULTURE AND GARDENING.

In these arts the English were still greatly excelled by their neighbours the Dutch and Flemings. Towards the latter part of this period our country began to imitate those industrious nations, and to introduce their modes of drainage, their roots and seeds. In 1652 the advantage of growing clover was pointed out by Bligh, in his "Improver Improved," and Sir Richard Weston recommended soon after the Flemish mode of cultivating the turnip for winter fodder for cattle and sheep. Gardening was more attended to, and both culinary vegetables and flowers were introduced. Samuel Hartlib, a Pole, who was patronised by Cromwell, wrote various treatises on agriculture, and relates that in his time old men recollected the first gardener who went into Surrey to plant cabbages, cauliflowers, and artichokes, and to sow early peas, turnips, carrots, and parsnips. Till then almost all the supply of these things in London was imported from Holland and Flanders. About that time, however, 1650, cherries, apples, pears, hops, cabbages, and liquorice were rapidly cultivated, and soon superseded the necessity of importation; but Hartlib says onions were still scarce, and the supply of stocks of apple, pear, cherry, vine, and chestnut trees was difficult from want of sufficient nurseries for them. There was a great tendency to cultivate tobacco, but that, as we have seen, was stopped in favour of the colonies. There was a zealous endeavour to introduce the production of raw silk, and mulberry trees and silk worms were introduced, but the abundant supply of silk from India, and the perfection of the silk manufactured in France, rendered this scheme abortive, and to this circumstance we owe the general diffusion of the mulberry tree in this country. In

or more scholastic, to whose works we can occasionally turn, and find passages of wonderful beauty and power.

As we come first to Shakespeare, who figured largely on the scene in the days of queen Bess, and whose poetry we have already reviewed, we may take the drama of this period

also in connection with him. A formal criticism on Shakespeare would be worse than superfluous-it would be almost an insult to any reader of the present day, who is as familiar with his character and his beauties as he is with his Bible, and perhaps, in many cases, much more so. There are whole volumes of comment on this greatest of our great writers, both in this language and others. The Germans have written volumes on his genius and works, and pride themselves on understanding him better than ourselves. They cannot believe but that he must have been in Germany, to represent so completely their feelings and philosophies; and, were there any obscurity about his birthplace, would certainly claim him. The Scandinavians equally venerate him, and have an admirable translation of his dramas. Even the French, the tone and spirit of whose literature are so different from ours, have, of late years, began to comprehend and receive him. The fact is, Shakespeare's genius is what the Germans term spherical, or many-sided. He had not a brilliancy in one direction only, but he seemed like a grand mirror, in which is truly reflected every image that falls on it. Outward nature, inner life and passion, town and country, all the features of human nature, as exhibited in every grade of life-from the cottage to the throne-are in him expressed with a truth and a natural strength, that awake in us precisely the same sensations as nature itself. The receptivity of his mind was as quick, as vast, as perfect, as his power of expression was unlimited. Every object once seen appeared photographed on his spirit, and he reproduced these lifelike images in new combinations, and mingled with such an exuberance of wit, of humour, of delicious melodies, and of exquisite poetry, as has no parallel in the whole range of literature, including all ages and all countries. The learned have always been astonished that he could be all this without an academic education, as if the

TO 1660.]

THE DRAMATISTS OF THE PERIOD.

academy of God's universe did not include all lesser colleges, and as if God needed lectures and masters to instruct those whom he chooses to inform himself, and to produce as his elect and peculiar oracles.

It has been said that his dramas cast into the shade and made obsolete all that went before him; but, indeed, his great light is the shadow that obscures also all that has come after him. Where is the second Shakespeare of the stage? He still stands alone as the type of dramatic greatness and perfection, and is likely to continue so. When we recollect his marvellous characters-his Hamlet, his Macbeth, his Lady Macbeth, his Othello and Desdemona, his Shylock, his Lear, his Ophelia, his Juliet, his Rosalind-the humours and follies of Shallow, Slender, Dogberry, Touchstone, Bottom, Launce, Falstaff or the ideal creations, Ariel, Caliban, Puck, Queen Mab, we scarcely hope for the appearance of any single genius who shall at once enrich our language with an affluence of such living and speaking characters, such a profound insight into all the depths and eccentricities of our nature, and such a fervent and varied expression of all the sentiments that are dearest to our hearts. But when we survey in addition the vast extent of history and country over which he has ranged, gleaning thence the most kingly personages, the most tragic incidents, the most moving and thrilling as well as amusing sensations and fancies, our wonder is the greater. Greece has lent him its Pericles, its Timon, its Troilus and Cressida-Rome its Cæsar, Brutus, Antony, Coriolanus-Egypt its Cleopatra. Ancient Britain, Scotland, and Denmark; all the fairest cities of Italy, Venice, Verona, Mantua; the forests of Illyria and Belgium, and the isles of the Grecian seas, are made the perpetually shifting arena of his triumphs. Through all these he ranged with a free hand, and, with a power mightier than ever was wielded by any magician, recalled to life all that was most illustrious there, and gave them new and more piquant effect from the sympathetic nearness into which he brought them with the spectator, the enchanting scenery with which he surrounded them. All this was done by the son of the woolcomber of Stratford-the youthful ranger of the woods of Charlecote, and the uplands of Clopton-the merry frequenter of country wakes, and then the player of London, who, so far as we know, was never out of his native country in his life.

If we are to take it for granted that after the year 1597, when he bought one of the best houses in his native town for his residence, Shakespeare spent his life there, except luring the the theatrical season, the greater part of his last nineteen years would be passed in the quiet of his country home. We may then settle his "Two Gentlemen of Verona," "The Comedy of Errors," "Love's Labour Lost," "All's Well that Ends Well," " Richard II." and "Richard III.," "King John," "Titus Andronicus" (if his), the first part of “Henry IV.," and "Romeo and Juliet," as produced in the bustle of his London life. But the far greater part, and the most magnificent and poetical, of his dramas have been composed in the pleasant retirement of his native scenes; namely, the second part of " Henry IV.," "Henry V.," "The Midsummer Night's Dream," "Much Ado about Nothing," and "The Merchant of Venice," in 1598 and 1600; the second and third parts of " Henry VI,"

[ocr errors]

387

"The

"Merry Wives of Windsor," 1601; "Hamlet," 1602; "Lear," 1608; "Troilus and Cressida" and "Pericles," 1609; "Othello" (not published till after the author's death, which was the case, too, with all his other plays, though brought on the stage in his lifetime), "The Winter's Tale," "As You Like It," King Henry VIII.," "Measure for Measure," " Cymbeline," "Macbeth," "The Taming of the Shrew," "Julius Cæsar," 66 Antony and Cleopatra," "Coriolanus," "Timon of Athens," Tempest," and "Twelfth Night." Shakespeare died in 1616. Of the envy which the unexampled splendour of Shakespeare's genius produced amongst inferior dramatic writers, we have an amusing specimen in the words of Robert Greene: "There is an upstart crow, beautified with our feathers, that, with his tiger's heart wrapped in a player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you, and, being an absolute Johannes Factotum, is, in his own conceit, the only Shakscene in a country."

Amongst the most remarkable dramatic contemporaries of Shakespeare, or those who immediately followed him, are Chapman, Ben Jonson, Webster, Middleton, Decker, Marston, Tailor, Tourneur, Rowley, Ford, Heywood, Shirley, and Beaumont and Fletcher. We can only give slight notices of them; those who wish to know more of their style and merits may consult Charles Lamb's Specimens, and Dilke's Old Plays, or Dodsley's Collection. Chapman wrote sixteen plays, and, conjointly with Ben Jonson and Marston, one more, as well as three in conjunction with Shirley. The tragedies of Chapman are written in a grave and eloquent diction, and abound with fine passages, but you feel at once that they are not calculated, like Shakespeare's, for acting. They want the inimitable life, ease, and beauty of the great dramatist. Perhaps his tragedy of "Bussy D'Ambois" is his best, and next to that his "Byron's Conspiracy," and "Byron's Tragedy." Of his comedies, "Eastward Hoe!" partly composed by Jonson and Marston, "Monsieur d'Olive," and his "All Fools." But Chapman's fame now rests far more on his translation of Homer, which, with all its rudeness of style and extreme quaintness, has always seized on the imagination of poets, and has been declared by many to be by far the best translation of the Iliad and Odyssey that we have. Pope was greatly indebted to it, having borrowed thence almost all the felicitous double epithets which are found in him.

The most celebrated of Webster's tragedies, "The Duchess of Malfi," has been revised in our time by Richard Hartwell Horne, and put on the stage at Sadler's Wells by Phelps with considerable success. He was the author of three tragedies, "Appius and Virginia," " Duchess of Malfi,” and "The White Devil; or, Vittoria Corombona;" a tragicomedy, "The Devil's Law-Case; or, When Women Go to Law, the Devil is full of Business," besides two comedies in conjunction with Rowley, and two others in conjunction with Decker. Webster exhibits remarkable power of language, and an imagination of wonderful vigour, but rather too fond of horrors. Undoubtedly he was one of the best dramatists of his age, and seemed fully conscious of it. That he had a true poetic vein in him is evidenced by such passages as the "Dirge of Marcello," sung by his mother,

which reminds one of the like simple, homely ditties in Denmark, and the whole court. In them the spirits of the Shakespeare:

"Call for the robin-red-breast and the wren,

Since o'er shady groves they hover,

And with leaves and flowers do cover

The friendless bodies of unburied men.

Call unto his funeral dole,

The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole,

To raise him hillocks that shall keep him warm

And, when gray tombs are robbed, sustain no harm."

There are fine truths also scattered through his dramas as:"To see what solitariness is about dying princes! As heretofore they have unpeopled towns, divided friends, and made great houses inhospitable, so now, O justice, where are their flatterers? Flatterers are but the shadows of

princes' bodies; the least thick cloud makes them invisible." Of Middleton, who wrote from twenty to thirty plays, in some of which, according to a very prevalant fashion of that age, he called in the aid of Rowley, Decker, Fletcher, and Massinger; of Decker, who wrote the whole or part of about thirty plays; of John Marston, who wrote eight plays; of Tailor, Tourneur, Heywood, and Ford, we can only say that their dramas abound with fine things, and would well repay a perusal, though they are not destined to see the stage again. John Fletcher and Francis Beaumont require a more specific notice. These gentlemen wrote together on the same plays to the amount of upwards of thirty, whilst John Fletcher wrote fourteen or fifteen himself. In fact, Fletcher, so far as can be known, was the most voluminous writer of the two, Beaumont having written little in his own name, except a masque, a few farces, dramatic pieces, and translations. The style of the two, however, was so much alike, that there is little to distinguish their productions from those of an individual mind. Beaumont and Fletcher were, as stated by Dryden, far more popular in their time than Shakespeare himself. The truth is, that they had less originality and were more compliant with the spirit of their age. They sought their characters more in the range of ordinary life, and therefore hit the tastes of a large and commoner class. They were extremely lively and forcible in dialogue, and had a flowery and dignified style which oftener approached the poetical than became it. We are everywhere met by admirable writing, and a finely sustained tone, but we travel on without encountering those original characters that can never again be forgotten, that become a part of our world, or those exquisite gushes of poetry and poetic scenery, which are like the music of Ariel ringing in the memory long afterwards. At the same time we are continually offended by extreme grossness and jarred by slovenliness and incongruity. They are of the class of great and able play-wrights who command the popularity of their age, but whom future ages praise and neglect; and who are only read by the curious for the fragments of good things that they contain.

The fate of Ben Jonson has been nearly the same. With the exception of his comedies of "Every Man in his Humour," "Vulpone," "The Silent Woman," and "The Alchemist," we are content to read the bulk of his dramas, and wonder at his erudition and his wit. The genius of Jonson is most conspicuous in his masques and court pageants, which were the delight of James's queen, Anne of

woods seem to mingle with those of courts and cities; and fancy and a hue of romance give to royal festivities the impressions of Arcadian life. But the living poetry of the "Midsummer Night's Dream," or of "Comus," are yet wanting to touch them with perfection. Hence their chief charm died with the age which patronised them, and having once perused them, we are not drawn to them again by a loving memory, as we are to the Shakespearian woodlands and lyrical harmonies. In Jonson's graver dramas there is a cold classical tone which leaves the affections untouched and the feelings unmoved, whilst we respect the artistic skill and the learned dignity of the composition.

Massinger, who wrote nearly forty dramatic pieces, is a vigorous writer, eloquent and effective. He is extremely trenchant in his satire, and delights in displaying pride and meanness exposed and punished. Still he is greater as a dramatist than a poet. His "New Way to Pay Old Debts," and "The Fatal Dowry," are best known to the present lovers of the drama. The "City Madam" is a play which is full of strong features of the times. Decker assisted him in "The Virgin Martyr," and is supposed to have introduced a higher and richer vein of feeling than belonged to Massinger himself.

Altogether the dramatic writing of this period has never been surpassed, and in Shakespeare has never been equalled. There is mingled with much licentiousness and coarseness a manly and healthy strength in the writers of this department; and though the bulk of these compositions have vanished from the stage, they will be long examined with enjoyment by those who delight in living portraiture of past ages, and the strong current of genuine English sense and feeling. The arrival of the commonwealth put down all theatres and scenic amusements. The solemn religion of the puritans was death to what they called "the lascivious mirth and levity of players." After their suppression for six years, it was found that the ordinance of the Long Parliament was clandestinely and extensively evaded; and in 1648 an act was passed, ordering all theatres to be pulled down and demolished, and the players to be punished “as rogues according to law." Towards the end of the protectorate, however, dramatic representations again crept in cautiously, and Sir William Davenant at first giving musical entertainments and declamations at Rutland House, Charter House Square, and afterwards in Drury Lane, calling his entertainments operas, at length gave regular plays. The restoration at length set the imprisoned drama altogether free.

Besides dramatic writers, poets abounded. It has been calculated that from the reign of Elizabeth to the restoration, no less than four hundred writers of verse appeared; some of these, who attained a great reputation in their day, and whose works are still retained in our collections, were rather verse-wrights than poets, and would now tax the patience of poetical readers beyond endurance. Such were William Warner, the author of "Albion's England," a history of England in metre extending from Noah's flood to the reign of Elizabeth; Samuel Daniel, the author of the "Civil Wars of Lancaster and York," in eight books; and Michael Drayton, who also wrote the "Barons' Wars,"

[blocks in formation]

in verse, "England's Heroical Epistles," but above all the “Polyolbion,” a Topography, in Alexandrine verse, in thirty books, and thirty thousand lines. Next came Giles and Phineas Fletcher, who employed their strength in composing allegoric poems. Phineas, under the delusive appellation of "The Purple Island," wrote an anatomical description of the human body, with all its veins, arteries, sinews, and so forth. This was extended to twelve books, on which an abundance of very excellent language was wasted. Besides this, he composed "Piscatory Eclogues," and other poems; and Giles, choosing a worthier subject, wrote "Christ's Victory" in the Italian ottava rimé, or eight-lined stanzas. To such perversion of the name of poetry had men arrived in the age of Shakespeare.

Of

There were sundry poets who were also translators. these Edward Fairfax, of the same family as lord Fairfax, was the most distinguished. He translated with singular vigour and poetic feeling Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered," which, though since translated by Hoole, and far more admirably by Wiffen, has lost none of its racy strength by time. It is still referred to with intense pleasure by the lovers of our old poetry. Joshua Sylvester, who wrote like king James against tobacco, but in verse, "Tobacco Battered," &c., translated amongst other things, "The Divine Weeks and Works" of the French poet Du Bartas. Sir Richard Fanshawe translated the "Lusiad," by the Portuguese poet Camoens, since also translated by Mickle, and again by lord Strangford. Fanshawe, moreover, translated the "Pastor Fido" of Guarini, from the Italian, the "Odes" of Horace, the fourth book of the "Eneid," and the "Love for Love's Sake," of the Spaniard Mendoza. Fanshawe seemed to have a peculiar taste for the European languages derived from the Latin as for the Latin itself; thus he translated from Roman, Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian poets, and from all with much taste and elegance.

Sir John Denham was a popular poet of the time, and his "Cooper's Hill" is still retained in our collections, and finds readers amongst admirers of descriptive poetry. Writers of

much more sterling poetry were Sir John Davis, Drummond of Hawthornden, bishop Hall, and Donne. Sir John Davis was long attorney-general, and chief justice of the King's Bench at the time of his death. He is author of a poem on dancing called the “Orchestra," but his great work is his "Nosce Teipsum," or "Know Thyself," a work which treats

on human knowledge and the immortality of the soul. It is written in quatrains, or four-lined stanzas, and is unquestionably one of the finest philosophical poems in our language, as it was one of the first. There are a life and feeling in the poem which make it always fresh, like the waters of a pure and deep fountain. Speaking of the soul, he says:

Yet under heaven she cannot light on aught,
That with her heavenly nature doth agree;
She cannot rest, she cannot fix her thought,
She cannot in this world contented be.
For who did ever yet in honour, wealth,
Or pleasure of the sense, contentment find?
Who ever ceased to wish when he had wealth,
Or, having wisdom, was not vexed in mind?
Then as a bee which among weeds doth fall,

Which seem sweet flowers with lustre fresh and gay,
She lights on that and this and tasteth all;

But pleased with none, doth rise and soar away,

389

Dr.

Drummond of Hawthornden, a Scotch gentleman who wrote in English, besides considerable prose, wrote some exquisite poems and sonnets formed on the Italian model; and bishop Hall, in his satires, presents some of the most graphic sketches of English life, manners, and scenery. Donne, who was dean of St. Paul's, and the most fashionable preacher of his day, was also the most fashionable poet -we do not except Shakespeare. He was the rage, in fact, of all admirers of poetry, and was the head of a school of which Cowley was the most extravagant disciple, and of which Crashaw, Withers, Herrick, Herbert, and Quarles, had more or less of the characteristics. In all these poets there was a deep feeling of spirituality, religion, and wit, and in some of them of nature, dashed and inarred by a fantastic style, full of quaintnesses and conceits. In some of them these were so tempered as to give them an original and piquant air, as in Herrick, Herbert, and Quarles; in others, as Donne and Cowley, they degenerated into disfigurement and absurdity. Donne, at the same time, had great and shining qualities, keen, bold satire, profound and intellectual thoughts, and a most sparkling fancy, embedding rich touches of passion and pathos, yet so disfigured by uncouth and strange conceits, that one scarcely knows how to estimate these compositions. In a word, they are the exact antipodes of the natural style, and this fashion was carried to its utmost extravagance by Cowley. A stanza or two from a parting address of a lover to his mistress, may show something of Donne's quality and manner :— As virtuous men pass mildly away,

And whisper to their souls to go;
Whilst some of their sad friends do say.
The breath goes now,--and some say, no.

So let us melt and make no noise,

No tear-floods nor sigh-tempests move; "Twere profanation of our joys,

To tell the laity of our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,

Men reckon what it did and meant;

But trepidation of the spheres,

Though greater far, is innocent.

George Withers has much less of what a contemporary happily styled the "Occult School." He says himself that he took for their own sakes," but preferred "such as flowed forth "little pleasure in rhymes, fictions, or conceited compositions without study;" and indeed, he has far more nature. He was confined for years in the Marshalsea prison, for pub

lishing a biting satire called "Abuses Stripped and Whipped," and there he wrote a long allegorical poem, called "The Shepherd's Hunting," in which his description of poetry is a perfect gem of fancy and natural feeling. He says:

By the murmur of a spring,
Or the least boughs rustling,
By a daisy, whose leaves spread,
Shut when Titan goes to bed;
Or a shady bush or tree,
She could more infuse in me

Than all Nature's beauties can
In some other wiser man.

Two songs of Withers', quoted in Percy's Reliques, "The Steadfast Shepherd," and the one beginning

Shall I, wasting in despair,

Die because a woman's fair? Or make pale my cheeks with care 'Cause another's rosy are?

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][graphic][subsumed][merged small]

and passionate reveries, yet greatly marred by the Donne | selves have stamped their age as one of genuine inspiration fashion, which Dryden, and after him Johnson, most inac--Herbert, Herrick, and Quarles. Herbert and Herrick, curately termed the Metaphysic School, instead of the like Donne, were clergymen, and in their quiet country fantastic or singularity school. His very first poem opening his volume, called "The Weeper," shows how he treated even sacred subjects:

Hail, sister springs!
Parents of silver forded rills,
Ever bubbling things!
Thawing crystal, snowy hills
Still spending, never spent,
'I mean
Thy fair eyes, sweet Magdalene.

parsonage poured forth some of the most exquisite lyrics which enrich any language. Herrick may be said to be the born poet of nature-Herbert of devotion. Herrick was of an old family of Leicestershire, which yet remains. Had his poems not been most familiar to modern readers, and purchasable in cheap editions, we should lament the space which confines us to a mere mention. His lyrics are the

« AnteriorContinua »