being required to explain himself, said it was moring the passions. Such a compliment Otway hardly deserved before the appearance of "The Orphan." Another cause of offence was Otway's connection with Shadwell, between whom and Dryden had now commenced that fatal discord, which subsequently produced the famous satire of "Mac-Flecknoe;" wherein the unfortunate bard became a victim "sacred to eternal ridicule."

What was the nature or ground of the inti macy which subsisted between our author and Shadwell, it is not easy to ascertain. There was nothing congenial in their tastes, their tempers, or even their pleasures. The scenes of Otway's extravagance and debauchery, were occasionally enlivened by wit, or graced with elegance. Shadwell appears to have studiously rejected the artificial coverings of sensuality, and as he professed himself an imitator of Jonson in his dramatic compositions, he proposed him likewise as a model in his pleasures*. This friendship, however,

* Dryden, speaking of Shadwell, gives the following humourous description of his corpulent bulk, and gross pleasures:-"He has often called me an Atheist in print; I would believe more charitably of him, and that he only goes the broad way, because the other is too narrow for him. He may see, by this, that I do not delight to meddle with his

much to the credit of both authors, seems to have continued when they were in the ranks of opposite factions. A rare felicity, when the rage of party almost approved the sacrifice of every social engagement!

The success which attended his last effort, seems to have decided Otway, in despair of any other employment, upon following the profession of a writer for the stage. He announced, in his preface to "Don Carlos," that he was engaged upon a third tragedy; still animated with the hope of retaining the patronage of Lord Rochester. Accordingly, the next year, (1677) he produced Titus and Berenice," a tragedy, and "The Cheats of Scapin," a farce: with a dedi

course of life, and his immoralities, though I have a beadroll of them. I have hitherto contented myself with the ridiculous part of him, which is enough, in all conscience, to employ one man; even without the story of his late fall at the Old Devil, where he broke no ribs, because the hardness of the stairs could reach no bones; and, for my part, I do not wonder how he came to fall, for I have always known him heavy; the miracle is, how he got up again. I have heard of a sea-captain as fat as he, who, to escape arrests, would lay himself flat upon the ground, and let the bailiffs carry him to prison if they could. If a messenger or two, nay, we may put in three or four, should come, he has friendly advertisement how to escape them."-Vindication of "The Duke of Guise."

Ication to that nobleman, whom he styles his "good and generous patron;" and who appears, from the warmth of the author's acknowledgment, to have carried his liberality beyond the mere support of his name and influence. These two pieces, which were performed together, (a practice then becoming common) were both translations from the French; the former from Racine, the farce from Moliere.

The encouragement which French literature received during the reign of Charles II., was not, probably, beneficial to our own, since it repressed the exertions of native genius, and imposed upon the nation, especially in dramatic composition, a taste not congenial with it's character. English audiences were oftener indebted, for theatri cal entertainment, to Racine, Corneille, or Moliere, than to Shakespeare, and our other early dramatists; and the stage was gradually filled with pieces which deviated more and more from 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

*See Rymer's "Short View of Tragedy," chap. 5; and Addison's "Spectator," No. 39.

no resemblance to that of nature, and where the characters and sentiments are equally hypotheti cal!

Passion's too fierce to be in fetters bound,
And nature flies him like enchanted ground.
Prol. to "Aurengzebe."

With this declaration of the impotence of rhyme, Dryden (once it's strenuous advocate) abandoned the use of it in tragedy; and as his example was much regarded by his contemporaries, the ardour for heroic plays was superseded by a more just and rational taste.

We may probably assign to this period the quarrel between our author and Settle, which is recorded in a scurrilous party poem*, where abuse is distributed pretty equally on both parties. It does not appear what gave rise to the difference; but a challenge ensued, and Elkanah is reported to have misbehaved on the occasion. If we consider this affair as alluded to in the following verse, it seems to have arisen at the Duke's Theatre, to which both authors then contributed:

For here you'll censure, who disdain to write,
As some make quarrels here that scorn to fight.

Epil. to "Cheats of Scapin."

"The Tory Poets," in which Dryden, and the other poets of that party, are lampooned, as well as Otway.

At length, by means of the Earl of Plymouth, Otway was relieved from precarious dependence upon the smiles of an audience for support. The state of public affairs requiring an addition to the military force of the country, he obtained, by the interest of his patron, a cornet's commission in a new regiment of horse; which, forming part of the army commanded by the Duke of Monmouth, he accompanied to Flanders. Before his departure, however, he had written a comedy, called "Friendship in Fashion;" which appeared in 1678. This was the first time he ventured to pay court to the comic muse.

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 de pends upon the exertion of talents essentially dif ferent. 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