the chasteness and simplicity of nature. Hence proceeded the romantic attachment to rhyming, or heroic plays, cherished and diffused by the writers of that period, with little regard to the legitimate end of tragedy: for how seldom can the heart be interested, where the language bears no resemblance to that of nature, and where the characters and sentiments are equally hypothetical! Passions too fierce to be in fetters bound, Prol. to Aurengzebe. With this declaration of the impotence of rhyme, Dryden fonce its strenuous advocate) abandoned the use of it in tragedy; and as his example was much regarded by his cotemporaries, the ardour for heroic plays was superseded by a more just and rational taste. In 1678 he went to Flanders, with the army commanded by the Duke of Monmouth; having obtained a cornet's commission in a new regiment of horse, by the interest of the Earl of Plymouth. Before his departure, he had made his first effort in comedy, under the title of Friendship in Fashion, which appeared in 1678. It is hardly necessary to observe, that the same powers which constitute a good writer of tragedy, are not sufficient of themselves to ensure success in the other department of the drama, which depends upon the exertion of talents essentially different. This will, therefore, diminish our surprise at the disproportion of Otway's powers in tragedy and comedy. But in judging of his efforts in the latter, we adopt a rule which he was compelled to disregard. A happy improvement in morals has purified the stage, and proscribed licentiousness; but in Otway's time, indecency, so far from being in disrepute, was an indispensable quality in a comedy; none, in short, succeeded without it. Writers must conform their taste to that of their audience. If, therefore, the legislators of the drama applauded those scenes most, where grossness constituted the obvious feature, we may charitably suppose that authors often sacrificed, unwillingly, their judgment to their interest. The torrent of immorality, thus unchecked by those to whom it belonged to resist its first encroachments, soon polluted the stage: mirth was excited by profanity, and ribaldry was esteemed as wit. No proof of the depravity of taste to which we allude, can be more convincing, than that "Friendship in Fashion," certainly a most immoral play, is reckoned by Langbaine a very diverting one, and stated to have met with general applause. The troops, to which he was attached, being recalled, he returned home in a state of extreme penury, aggravated by the disadvantageous mode of payment to which government had recourse for the discharge of the military appointments. Poverty was not the only cause of disquietude to Otway. He cherished a hopeless passion for Mrs. Barry, an actress of considerable eminence, respecting whom we shall take occasion to say more hereafter. Being now returned to his native country, he published, in 1680, The History and Fall of Caius Marius, on which he had been occupied while he was abroad. Considerable part of this play was borrowed from Shakspeare's Romeo and Juliet; and it was written with a reference to the political troubles of the author's own times. In the same year appeared The Poet's Complaint of his Muse; and also THE ORPHAN. This work was an indisputable proof of his supreme command over the passions, of which some evidence had broken forth in different parts of Caius Marius. In this place the editor justly censures the vulgar and envious ribaldry which Voltaire has aimed at this play. The strictures of this writer we remember to have read several years ago with profound contempt. The mode of criticism that he adopts is, to disfigure the harmony of English blank verse, by translating it into French prose, and to supply vulgarity where it is wanting. In this malignant attempt, he failed as ingloriously as he had already done in his attack on Shakspeare. The punishment for his sacrilege to our immortal monarch of the drama awaited him from a female hand; and he cowered under the castigation that he had merited. His next literary birth was The Soldier's Fortune, in 1681; which, although it obtained extraordinary success, and produced both profit and reputation to the theatre, appears to have given more pleasure to the public than profit to the author. Otway, notwithstanding, appears now to have felt sufficiently the irksomeness of his profession. It is not difficult to conceive the pangs which he endured, with a spirit not yet inured to want, or subdued by adversity. Exposed by his situation, as an author, to the shafts of malice; alternately elevated with promises, and dejected by scorn and neglect; caressed for his wit, and despised for his poverty; we must not wonder that these complicated vexations and disgusts should engender those gloomy feelings which he describes in the epilogue! With the discharge of passions much opprest, Full of those thoughts which make th' unhappy sad, The poet led abroad his mourning muse," &c. The groundwork of the plot of Venice Preserved, the author's next play, which came out in 1682, with a very prosperous result, * Mrs. Montagu's Essay on Shakspeare. was taken from an historical work of St. Real. This play, like Caius Marius, was written with a view to party satire, as well aş personal interest; and requiring more vigour of character, and a loftier tenor of sentiment, than the subject of The Orphan, it afforded a visible test of the improvement that Otway's powers were daily receiving as experience and life gradually advanced. Notwithstanding the poet's assiduity in composition, he was almost constantly involved in poverty. The author's share in the profits of the theatre was, at that time, much inferior to the sums now derived from a successful drama; and Otway's habits were not, perhaps, favourable to the practice of economy. Such was the exhausted state of his finances, that these, we have reason to think, were often anticipated before they arrived. In the epilogue to "Caius Marius," he talks of offering to pawn his third day for fifty pounds. With poverty came all those attendant ills which a generous spirit feels more acutely than actual privation: neglect; wrongs real and imaginary; the altered eye of friends: but, above all, he secretly pined under that hopeless passion, whose stubbornness refused to yield to the most provoking scorn. Besides these evils, the obscure allusions contained in the epilogue to " Venice Preserved," indicate how many enemies his writings had produced, and his apprehensions of their resorting to some dastardly method of revenge. Poets in honour of the truth should write, "Tis what he knows with much contempt to bear, He fears no poison from an incens'd drab, Not a Rose-alley cudgel-ambuscade;* From any private cause where malice reigns, Perhaps the accumulated disgusts arising from these different sources, renewed in Otway an attachment to his early habits of inebriety; and if we do not arm our minds with stoical apathy, compassion for the frailty of human nature will incline us to regard this constitutional infirmity of our author as entitled to some excuse, from his severe sufferings. When nature seems to sink beneath the pressure of distress, and not a ray of hope can penetrate the gloom of futurity, mankind are often driven by despair to seek a refuge from intolerable thought in the smiles of the bottle. Thus it fared with poor Otway: he saw himself banished, in appearance for ever, from the mild delights of life, and snatched eagerly at the transient joys which intemperance afforded. It The attack upon Dryden, is a precipice, the paths to which, though often trod, are still imperceptible. The Atheist, a sequel to the Soldier's Fortune, and his last dramatic production, was represented in 1683, or at the beginning of 1684. At the death of Charles II. in February, 1685, Otway followed the example of his cotemporaries, and offered his poetical incense to his successor. This adulation produced no beneficial result to its author; and the term of his mortal career was at hand. Deeply involved in pecuniary engagements, Otway had, for some time past, withdrawn from the importunate clamours of his creditors to an obscure public-house,* the sign of the Bull, on Tower-hill. It was at this place, remote from the knowledge of those who could assist him, that he expired, at the premature age of 34, on the 14th April, 1685. From thence his body was conveyed to the church of St. Clement Danes, and there deposited in a vault. Varying accounts have been circulated of the immediate cause of his death, but the following narrative seems to be now authenticated: Our author had an intimate friend who was murdered in the street. To revenge the deed, he pursued the assassin, who fled to France. Otway followed him, on foot, as far as Dover, where he was seized with a fever, occasioned by the fatigues he had undergone, which soon carried him to his grave in London.† How must every mind of sensibility exult that this record has been rescued from oblivion ! Such a sacrifice to affection is highly creditable to the moral character of our author, and shows that the ardour of private friendship, which glows with so much enthusiasm in "The Orphan" and "Venice Preserved," was not a fiction of the poet, but entered, in a very remarkable degree, into the character of the man. As a specimen of the editor's critical remarks, we subjoin the ensuing passages: "We find that the chief objections to Otway's tragedies are, that they do not conform strictly to the rules of the drama; that the language wants elevation-the ampullas et sesquipedalia verba of Horace-and that some of the scenes are debased by unseasonable mirth. The instances of the first are unimportant; and he has already been resigned, for the latter offence, to the severity of criticism. But with regard to the language, he was confined, by his subjects, to a familiarity of style; for the pathetic * This gave rise to the ill-natured remark of Dennis, that “ Otway died in an ale-house." "Essay on the Writings and Genius of Pope," vol. ii. Spence derived the anecdote from Dennis, the critic. The name of Otway's friend was Blakiston. At his return to London, he drank water, which occasioned his death. sentiments of distress would be very unsuitably clothed in an ornamented diction. Tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri. 6 HOR. "Some parts, however, of the dialogue of Venice Preserved' are highly poetical; but Otway's skill was almost wholly displayed in the pathetic; in the plaintive language of distress, and the soothing tones of affection. "The only writers who approach him in this respect are Southern and Rowe. The Fatal Marriage' of the former exhibits distresses almost too strong for the feelings; but the sentiments want that peculiar tenderness, which, in Otway, produces a sorrow combined with the most exalted pleasure. The uniform harmony of numbers, for which Rowe is so much admired, somewhat enervates his sentiments, and produces an effect not altogether consonant with genuine sympathy. Rowe acquired, by art and industry, an excellence which Otway derived immediately from nature. In the works of the latter, we must not seek those charms which are supplied by study and application; but it may be doubted whether, by a larger acquaintance with critical knowledge, they would not have lost in energy what they might have gained by regularity and accuracy: as the vigour of a plant is sometimes destroyed by an over-solicitude to restrain its luxuriance." ACCOUNT OF THE PERSIANS. [From Kinneir's Memoir of the Persian Empire.] "THE Persians are a remarkably handsome race of men: brave, hospitable, patient in adversity, affable to strangers, and highly polished in their manners. They are gentle and insinuating in their address, and, as companions, agreeable and entertaining; but, in return, they are totally devoid of many estimable qualities, and profoundly versed in all the arts of deceit and hypocrisy. They are haughty to their inferiors, obsequious to their superiors, cruel, vindictive, treacherous and avaricious, without faith, friendship, gratitude or honour. It has, however, been justly remarked, that imperfections will be universally found to sully the human character, in a country where injustice is proverbial, and where confidence and integrity too often lead to ruin. Frugal in his diet, robust in his constitution, capable of enduring astonishing fatigue, and inured, from his infancy, to the extremes of heat and cold, to hunger and thirst, nature seems to have formed the Persian for a sol |