XXII. TO MY DEAR Son, and right learned FRIEND, OU look, my Joseph, I should something say You know, I never was of truth afeard, Concluded from a caract to a dram." 6 These lines are placed before the Shepherd's Holiday, a Pas XXIII. EPIGRAM. IN AUTHOREM.7 HOU, that wouldst find the habit of true passion, And see a mind attir'd in perfect strains; Not wearing moods, as gallants do a fashion, In these pied times, only to shew their trains, Look here on Breton's work, the master print, Where such perfections to the life do rise; If they seem wry to such as look asquint, The fault's not in the object, but their eyes. For, as one coming with a lateral view, Unto a cunning piece wrought perspective, Wants faculty to make a censure true; So with this author's readers will it thrive; Which being eyed directly, I divine, His proof their praise 'll incite, as in this line. toral Drama, published in 1635. May joined with Jonson in commendation of this piece, which is favourably noticed by Langbaine. Rutter, who was probably a man of learning, was tutor to the son of the earl of Dorset, lord chamberlain, and therefore much about the court. He is said to have translated the Cid of Corneille, at the command of Charles I. 7 In Authorem.] This Epigram is printed before a poem of that indefatigable writer, Nicholas Breton, called "Melancholike humours, in verses of diverse natures." 1600. XXIV. TO THE WORTHY AUTHOR, ON THE HUSBAND.8 T fits not only him that makes a book The art of uttering wares, if they were bad; XXV. TO THE AUTHOR.9 N picture, they which truly understand, colouring, All which are parts commend the cunning hand; 8 The poem to which these lines are prefixed, is one of the numerous effusions to which that popular production, The Wife of sir Thomas Overbury, gave rise. The name of the writer is unknown; the poem itself is extremely rare indeed, I am not aware of the existence of any other copy than that from which the above transcript was made, in the collection of Mr. Hill. The title of the work is "The Husband: a poem expressed in a complete man." 1614, 8vo. 9 This sonnet stands before a work, by Thomas Wright, called "The Passions of the Mind in general. 1604, and 1620," 4to. Will well confess; presenting, limiting Each subtlest passion, with her source, and spring, So bold, as shews your art you can command. But now your work is done, if they that view The several figures, languish in suspense, To judge which passion's false, and which is true, Between the doubtful sway of reason and sense; 'Tis not your fault if they shall sense prefer, Being told there Reason cannot, Sense may err. XXVI. TO THE AUTHOR.1 RUTH is the trial of itself, And needs no other touch; It is the life and light of love, That faith and love defineth. 1 Taken from the complimentary verses prefixed to The Touchstone of Truth, 12mo. Lond. 1630, by T. Warre. The last nine little pieces are now, for the first time, added to Jonson's works: I have collected them as I could, and placed them together, without regard to the respective dates of their first appearance, which, indeed, it was not always easy to ascertain. They are not given out of respect to any intrinsic merit which they may be thought to possess, though they are not without their value on another account. Jonson has been held forth to the world as the very soul of envy, jealous of all merit in others, unwilling, and, indeed, unable, to bear a rival candidate for fame. But what is the fact? that in the long list of English poets, he is decidedly among the most candid and generous: the most free of his advice and assistance, the most liberal of his praise. This part of Jonson's character was so well established among his contemporaries, that almost every one who meditated the publication of a book applied to him. It is the warrant of the word, It is the sword that doth divide for a favourable judgment of it. Whence it has happened that there are far more commendatory verses to be met with by our author than by any other writer of those times. This could not escape Dr. Farmer; and to the utter confusion of Steevens and Malone, he has had the honesty to acknowledge it. He calls the verses on Shakspeare, "sparing and invidious" as they appear to those critics, "the warmest panegyrick that ever was penned; and in truth," adds he, "the received opinion of the pride and malignity of Jonson, at least in the earlier part of his life, is absolutely groundless; at this time scarce a play or a poem appeared without Ben's encomium, from the original Shakspeare to the translator of Du Bartas." Essay, &c. p. 12. This passage stands at the opening of the second volume of the Variorum Shakspeare, which, notwithstanding, is filled with abusive ribaldry on the "early malignity" of our author. Such is the consistency of the wretched confederacy against his reputation ! But even Dr. Farmer might have spared his "earlier part at least;" for it is altogether certain that Jonson's encomiums were as liberally bestowed in the decline of his life, as at any other period, and that the last productions of his pen were panegyrics on the writings of his contemporaries. In truth, the failings of this poet lay on the side of proneness to commendation, and he was very sensible of it. As early as 1614, he tells the learned Selden, that he had hitherto been too liberal of his applause; but that he would turn a sharper eye upon himself in future, and consider what he wrote, "and vex it many days, Before men got a verse; much less a praise." Such, however, was the kindly warmth of his disposition, that this resolution was broken as soon as made; and he continued to the close of his life to speak with favour of almost every literary work that appeared. His reward for this is an universal outcry on the peculiar malevolence of his nature! |