2. t.i.tus and Berenice, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke"s Theatre, 1677, dedicated to John, Earl of Rochester. This play consists of but three Acts, and is a translation from M. Racine into heroic verse; for the story see Suetonius, Dionysius, Josephus; to which is added the Cheats of Scapin, a Farce, acted the same year. This is a translation from Moliere, and is originally Terence"s Phormio.
3. Friendship in Fashion, a Comedy, acted at the Duke"s Theatre, 1678, dedicated to the Earl of Dorset and Middles.e.x. This play was revived at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane, 1749, and was d.a.m.ned by the audience, on account of the immorality of the design, and the obscenity of the dialogue.
4. Don Carlos, Prince of Spain, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke of York"s Theatre, 1679. This play, which was the second production of our author, written in heroic verse, was acted with very great applause, and had a run of thirty nights; the plot from the Novel called Don Carlos.
5. The Orphan, or the Unhappy Marriage, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke of York"s Theatre, 1680, dedicated to her Royal Highness the d.u.c.h.ess.
It is founded on the History of Brandon, and a Novel called the English Adventurer. Scene Bohemia.
6. The History and Fall of Caius Marius, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke"s Theatre, 1680, dedicated to Lord Viscount Falkland. The characters of Marius Junior and Lavinia, are borrowed literally from Shakespear"s Romeo and Juliet, which Otway has acknowledged in his Prologue.
7. The Soldier"s Fortune, a Comedy, acted at the Duke"s Theatre, 1681.
This play is dedicated to Mr. Bentley his Bookseller; for the copy money, as he tells us himself, see Boccace"s Novels, Scarron"s Romances.
8. The Atheist, or the Second Part of the Soldier"s Fortune, a Comedy, acted at the Duke of York"s Theatre, 1684, dedicated to Lord Eland, the eldest son to the Marquis of Hallifax.
9. Venice Preserved, or a Plot Discovered, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke"s Theatre, 1685, dedicated to the d.u.c.h.ess of Portsmouth. Of this we have already given some account, and it is so frequently acted, that any enlargement would be impertinent. It is certainly one of the most moving plays upon the English stage; the plot from a little book, giving an account of the Conspiracy of the Spaniards against Venice.
Besides his plays, he wrote several poems, viz.
The Poet"s Complaint to his Muse, or a Satire against Libels, London; 1680, in 4to.
Windsor Castle, or a Monument to King Charles the Second.
Miscellany Poems, containing a New Translation of Virgil"s Eclogues, Ovid"s Elegies, Odes of Horace, London 1864. He translated likewise the Epistle of Phaedra to Hyppolitus, printed in the Translation of Ovid"s Epistles, by several hands. He wrote the Prologue to Mrs.
Bhon"s City Heiress. Prefixed to Creechis Lucretius, there is a copy of verses written by Mr. Otway, in praise of that translation.
JOHN OLDHAM.
This eminent satyrical poet, was the son of the reverend Mr. John Oldham, a nonconformist minister, and grandson to Mr. John Oldham, rector of Nun-Eaton, near Tedbury in Gloucestershire. He was born at Shipton (where his father had a congregation, near Tedbury, and in the same county) on the 9th of August 1653. He was educated in grammar learning, under the care of his father, till he was almost fitted for the university; and to be compleatly qualified for that purpose, he was sent to Tedbridge school, where he spent about two years under the tuition of Mr. Henry Heaven, occasioned by the earnest request of alderman Yeats of Bristol, who having a son at the same school, was desirous that Mr. Oldham should be his companion, which he imagined would much conduce to the advancement of his learning. This for some time r.e.t.a.r.ded Oldham in the prosecution of his own studies, but for the time he lost in forwarding Mr. Yeat"s son, his father afterwards made him an ample amends. Mr. Oldham being sent to Edmund Hall in Oxford, was committed to the care of Mr. William Stephens: of which hall he became a bachelor in the beginning of June 1670. He was soon observed to be a good latin scholar, and chiefly addicted himself to the study of poetry, and other polite acquirements[1]. In the year 1674, he took the degree of bachelor of arts, but left the university before he compleated that degree by determination, being much against his inclination compelled to go home and live for some time with his father. The next year he was very much afflicted for the death of his dear friend, and constant companion, Mr. Charles Mervent, as appears by his ode upon that occasion. In a short time after he became usher to the free-school at Croyden in Surry. Here it was, he had the honour of receiving a visit from the earl of Rochester, the earl of Dorset, Sir Charles Sedley, and other persons of distinction, meerly upon the reputation of some verses which they had seen in ma.n.u.script. The master of the school was not a little surprized, at such a visit, and would fain have taken the honour of it to himself, but was soon convinced that he had neither wit nor learning enough to make a party in such company. This adventure was no doubt very happy for Mr.
Oldham, as it encreased his reputation and gained him the countenance of the Great, for after about three years continuance at Croyden school, he was recommended by his good friend Harman Atwood, Esq; to Sir Edward Thurland, a judge, near Rygate in the same county, who appointed him tutor to his two grandsons. He continued in this family till 1680. After this he was sometime tutor to a son of Sir William Hicks, a gentleman living within three or four miles of London, who was intimately acquainted with a celebrated Physician, Dr. Richard Lower, by whose peculiar friendship and encouragement, Mr. Oldham at his leisure hours studied physic for about a year, and made some progress in it, but the bent of his poetical genius was too strong to become a proficient in any school but that of the muses. He freely acknowledges this in a letter to a friend, written in July 1678.
While silly I, all thriving arts refuse, } And all my hopes, and all my vigour lose, } In service of the worst of jilts a muse. } * * * * *
Oft I remember, did wise friends dissuade, And bid me quit the trifling barren trade.
Oft have I tryed (heaven knows) to mortify This vile and wicked bent of poetry; But still unconquered it remains within, Fixed as a habit, or some darling sin.
In vain I better studies there would sow; Oft have I tried, but none will thrive or grow.
All my best thoughts, when I"d most serious be, Are never from its foul infection free: Nay G.o.d forgive me when I say my prayers, I scarce can help polluting them with verse.
The fab"lous wretch of old revers"d I seem, Who turn whatever I touch to dross of rhime.
Our author had not been long in London, before he was found out by the n.o.blemen who visited him at Croyden, and who now introduced him to the acquaintance of Mr. Dryden. But amongst the Men of quality he was most affectionately caressed by William Earl of Kingston, who made him an offer of becoming his chaplain; but he declined an employment, to which servility and dependence are so necessarily connected. The writer of his life observes, that our author in his satire addressed to a friend, who was about to quit the university, and came abroad into the world, lets his friend know, that he was frighted from the thought of such an employment, by the scandalous sort of treatment which often accompanies it. This usage deters men of generous minds from placing themselves in such a station of life; and hence persons of quality are frequently excluded from the improving, agreeable conversation of a learned and obsequious friend. In this satire Mr.
Oldham writes thus,
Some think themselves exalted to the sky, If they light on some n.o.ble family.
Diet and horse, and thirty-pounds a year, Besides the advantage of his lordship"s ear.
The credit of the business and the state, Are things that in a youngster"s sense found great.
Little the unexperienced wretch does know, What slavery he oft must undergo; Who tho" in silken stuff, and ca.s.soc drest, Wears but a gayer livery at best.
When diner calls, the implement must wait, With holy words to consecrate the meat; But hold it for a favour seldom known, If he be deign"d the honour to sit down.
Soon as the tarts appear, Sir c.r.a.pe withdraw, Those dainties are not for a spiritual maw.
Observe your distance, and be sure to stand Hard by the cistern, with your cap in hand: There for diversion you may pick your teeth, Till the kind voider comes for your relief, For meer board wages, such their freedom sell, Slaves to an hour, and va.s.sals to a bell: And if th" employments of one day be stole, They are but prisoners out upon parole: Always the marks of slavery remain, And they tho" loose, still drag about their chain.
And where"s the mighty prospect after all, A chaplainship serv"d up, and seven years thrall?
The menial thing, perhaps for a reward, Is to some slender benefice prefer"d, With this proviso bound that he must wed, } My lady"s antiquated waiting maid, } In dressing only skill"d, and marmalade. } Let others who such meannesses can brook, Strike countenance to ev"ry great man"s look: Let those, that have a mind, turn slave to eat, And live contented by another"s plate: I rate my freedom higher, nor will I, For food and rayment track my liberty.
But if I must to my last shift be put, To fill a bladder, and twelve yards of gut, Richer with counterfeited wooden leg, And my right arm tyed up, I"ll choose to beg.
I"ll rather choose to starve at large, than be, The gaudiest va.s.sal to dependancy.
The above is a lively and animated description of the miseries of a slavish dependance on the great, particularly that kind of mortification which a chaplain must undergo. It is to be lamented, that gentlemen of an academical education should be subjected to observe so great a distance from those, over whom in all points of learning and genius they may have a superiority. Tho" in the very nature of things this must necessarily happen, yet a high spirit cannot bear it, and it is with pleasure we can produce Oldham, as one of those poets who have spurned dependence, and acted consistent with the dignity of his genius, and the l.u.s.tre of his profession.
When the earl of Kingston found that Mr. Oldham"s spirit was too high to accept his offer of chaplainship, he then caressed him as a companion, and gave him an invitation to his house at Holmes-Pierpont, in Nottinghamshire. This invitation Mr. Oldham accepted, and went into the country with him, not as a dependant but friend; he considered himself as a poet, and a clergyman, and in consequence of that, he did not imagine the earl was in the least degraded by making him his bosom companion. Virgil was the friend of Maecenas, and shone in the court of Augustus, and if it should be observed that Virgil was a greater poet than Oldham, it may be answered, Maecenas was a greater man than the Earl of Kingston, and the court of Augustus much more brilliant than that of Charles II.
Our author had not been long at the seat of this Earl, before, being seized with the small pox, he died December 9, 1683, in the 30th year of his age, and was interred with the utmost decency, his lordship attending as chief mourner, in the church there, where the earl soon after erected a monument to his memory.--Mr. Oldham"s works were printed at London 1722, in two volumes 12mo. They chiefly consist of Satires, Odes, Translations, Paraphrases of Horace, and other authors; Elegiac Verses, Imitations, Parodies, Familiar Epistles, &c.--Mr.
Oldham was tall of stature, the make of his body very thin, his face long, his nose prominent, his aspect unpromising, and satire was in his eye. His const.i.tution was very tender, inclined to a consumption, and it was not a little injured by his study and application to learned authors, with whom he was greatly conversant, as appears from his satires against the Jesuits, in which there is discovered as much learning as wit. In the second volume of the great historical, geographical, and poetical Dictionary, he is stiled the Darling of the Muses, a pithy, sententious, elegant, and smooth writer: "His translations exceed the original, and his invention seems matchless.
His satire against the Jesuits is of special note; he may be justly said to have excelled all the satirists of the age." Tho" this compliment in favour of Oldham is certainly too hyperbolical, yet he was undoubtedly a very great genius; he had treasured in his mind an infinite deal of knowledge, which, had his life been prolonged, he might have produced with advantage, for his natural endowments seem to have been very great: But he is not more to be reverenced as a Poet, than for that gallant spirit of Independence he discovered, and that magnaninity [sic] which scorned to stoop to any servile submissions for patronage: He had many admirers among his contemporaries, of whom Mr. Dryden professed himself one, and has done justice to his memory by some excellent verses, with which we shall close this account.
Farewel too little, and too lately known, Whom I began to think, and call my own; For sure our souls were near allied, and thine Cast in the same poetic mould with mine.
One common note on either lyre did strike, And knaves and tools were both abhorred alike.
To the same goal did both our studies drive, The last set out, the soonest did arrive, Thus Nisus fell upon the slippery place, While his young friend perform"d and won the race.
O early ripe! to thy abundant store, What could advancing age have added more?
It might, what nature never gives the young, Have taught the numbers of thy native tongue.
But satire needs not those, and wit will shine, Thro" the harsh cadence of a rugged line: A n.o.ble error, and but seldom made, When poets are by too much force betray"d.
Thy gen"rous fruits, tho" gather"d e"er their prime, } Still shewed a quickness; and maturing time } But mellows what we write to the dull sweets of rhime. } Once more, hail and farewel: Farewel thou young, But ah! too short, Marcellus of our tongue; Thy brows with ivy, and with laurels bound, But fate, and gloomy night encompa.s.s thee around.
Footnote: 1. Life of Mr. Oldham, prefixed to his works, vol. i. edit. Lond.
1722.
(DILLON) (WENTWORTH) Earl of ROSCOMMON,
This n.o.bleman was born in Ireland during the lieutenancy of the earl of Strafford, in the reign of King Charles I. Lord Strafford was his G.o.dfather, and named him by his own surname. He pa.s.sed some of his first years in his native country, till the earl of Strafford imagining, when the rebellion first broke out, that his father who had been converted by archbishop Usher to the Protestant religion, would be exposed to great danger, and be unable to protect his family, sent for his G.o.dson, and placed him at his own seat in Yorkshire, under the tuition, of Dr. Hall, afterwards bishop of Norwich; by whom he was instructed in Latin, and without learning the common rules of grammar, which he could never retain in his memory, he attained to write in that language with cla.s.sical elegance and propriety, and with so much ease, that he chose it to correspond with those friends who had learning sufficient to support the commerce. When the earl of Strafford was prosecuted, lord Roscommon went to Caen in Normandy, by the advice of bishop Usher, to continue his studies under Bochart, where he is said to have had an extraordinary impulse of his father"s death, which is related by Mr. Aubrey in his miscellany, "Our author then a boy of about ten years of age, one day was as it were madly extravagant, in playing, getting over the tables, boards, &c. He was wont to be sober enough. They who observed him said, G.o.d grant this proves no ill luck to him. In the heat of this extravagant fit, he cries out my father is dead. A fortnight after news came from Ireland, that his father was dead. This account I had from Mr. Knowles who was his governor, and then with him, since secretary to the earl of Strafford; and I have heard his Lordship"s relations confirm the same."
The ingenious author of lord Roscommon"s life, publish"d in the Gentleman"s Magazine for the month of May, 1748, has the following remarks on the above relation of Aubrey"s.
"The present age is very little inclined to favour any accounts of this sort, nor will the name of Aubrey much recommend it to credit; it ought not however to be omitted, because better evidence of a fact is not easily to be found, than is here offered, and it must be, by preserving such relations, that we may at least judge how much they are to be regarded. If we stay to examine this account we shall find difficulties on both sides; here is a relation of a fact given by a man who had no interest to deceive himself; and here is on the other hand a miracle which produces no effect; the order of nature is interrupted to discover not a future, but only a distant event, the knowledge of which is of no use to him to whom it is revealed. Between these difficulties what way shall be found? Is reason or testimony to be rejected? I believe what Osborne says of an appearance of sanct.i.ty, may be applied to such impulses, or antic.i.p.ations. "Do not wholly slight them, because they may be true; but do not easily trust them, because they may be false.""
Some years after he travelled to Rome, where he grew familiar with the most valuable remains of antiquity, applying himself particularly to the knowledge of medals, which he gained in great perfection, and spoke Italian with so much grace and fluency, that he was frequently mistaken there for a native. He returned to England upon the restoration of King Charles the IId, and was made captain of the band of pensioners, an honour which tempted him to some extravagancies. In the gaieties of that age (says Fenton) he was tempted to indulge a violent pa.s.sion for gaming, by which he frequently hazarded his life in duels, and exceeded the bounds of a moderate fortune. This was the fate of many other men whose genius was of no other advantage to them, than that it recommended them to employments, or to distinction, by which the temptations to vice were multiplied, and their parts became soon of no other use, than that of enabling them to succeed in debauchery.
A dispute about part of his estate, obliging him to return to Ireland, he resigned his post, and upon his arrival at Dublin, was made captain of the guards to the duke of Ormond.
When he was at Dublin he was as much as ever distempered with the same fatal affection for play, which engaged him in one adventure, which well deserves to be related. "As he returned to his lodgings from a gaming table, he was attacked in the dark by three ruffians, who were employed to a.s.sa.s.sinate him. The earl defended himself with so much resolution, that he dispatched one of the aggressors, while a gentleman accidentally pa.s.sing that way interposed, and disarmed another; the third secured himself by flight. This generous a.s.sistant was a disbanded officer of a good family and fair reputation; who by what we call partiality of fortune, to avoid censuring the iniquities of the times, wanted even a plain suit of clothes to make a decent appearance at the castle; but his lordship on this occasion presenting him to the duke of Ormond, with great importunity prevailed with his grace that he might resign his post of captain of the guards to his friend, which for about three years the gentleman enjoyed, and upon his death, the duke returned the commission to his generous benefactor."[1]