gratitude did not, as Mr Malone observes, withhold Rochester, shortly after, from lampooning Otway, with circumstances of gross insult, in the «Session of the Poets. » 1 In the same preface, Otway, in very intelligible language, bade defiance to Dryden, whom he charges with having spoken slightly of his play. But although Dryden did not admire the general structure of Otway's poetry, he is said, even at this time, to have borne witness to his power

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gratitude, confess, I owe the greatest part of my good success in this, and on whose indulgency I extremely build my hopes of a next.» Accordingly, next year, Otway's play of «Titus and Berenice» is inscribed to Rochester,

his good and generous patron.">

«Tom Otway came next, Tom Shadwell's dear zany,

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And swears for heroics he writes best of any;

'Don Carlos' his pockets so amply had fill'd,

That his mange was quite cured, and his lice were all kill'd.
But Apollo had seen his face on the stage,
And prudently did not think fit to engage
The scum of a playhouse for the prop

of an age."

«Though a certain writer, that shall be nameless (but you may guess at him by what follows), being ask’d his opinion of this play, very gravely cock't, and cry'd, Igad, he knew not a line in it he would be authour of. But he is a fine facetious witty person, as my friend Sir Formal has it; and, to be even with him, I know a comedy of his, that has not so much as a quibble in it which I would be authour of. And so, reader, I bid him and thee farewell. The use of Dryden's interjection, well-known through Bayes's employing it, ascertains him to be the poet meant.

of moving the passions; an acknowledgment which he long afterwards solemnly repeated. Thus Otway, like many others, mistook the character of a pretended friend, and did injustice to that of a liberal rival. Dryden and he indeed never appear to have been personal friends, even when they both wrote in the Tory interest. It was probably about this time that Otway challenged Settle, whose courage appears to have failed him upon the

occasion.

Rochester was not content with exciting rivals against Dryden in the public opinion, but assailed him personally in an imitation of Horace which he quaintly entitled, « An Allusion to the Tenth Satire.» It came out anonymously about 1678, but the town was at no loss to guess that Rochester was the patron or author. Much of the satire was bestowed on Dryden, whom Rochester for the first time distinguishes by a ridiculous nickname, which was afterwards echoed by imitating dunces in all their lampoons. The lines are more cutting, because mingled with as much praise as the writer probably thought necessary to gain the credit of a candid critic. Dryden, on his

I

"Well, sir, 'tis granted; I said Dryden's rhymes

Were stolen, unequal, nay dull many times;

What foolish patron is there found of his,
So blindly partial to deny me this?

part, did not view with indifference these repeated direct and indirect attacks on his literary reputation by Rochester. In the preface

But that his plays, embroider'd up and down
With learning, justly pleased the town,

In the same paper I as freely own.

Yet, having this allow'd, the heavy mass,
That stuffs up his loose volumes, must not pass ;
For by that rule I might as well admit
Crowne's tedious scenes for poetry and wit.
'Tis therefore not enough when your false sense
Hits the false judgment of an audience

Of clapping fools assembling, a vast crowd,
Till the throng'd playhouse crack'd with the dull load;
Though even that talent merits, in some sort,
That can divert the rabble and the court;
Which blundering Settle never could obtain,
And puzzling Otway labours at in vain.»

He afterwards mentions Etherege's seductive poetry, and adds:

«Dryden in vain tried this nice way of wit;
For he, to be a tearing blade, thought fit
To give the ladies a dry bawdy bob;
And thus he got the name of Poet Squob.
But to be just, 'twill to his praise be found,
His excellencies more than faults abound;
Nor dare I from his sacred temples tear
The laurel, which he best deserves to wear.
But does not Dryden find even Jonson dull?
Beaumont and Fletcher uncorrect, and full
Of lewd lines, as he calls them? Shakspeare's style
Stiff and affected? To his own the while
Allowing all the justice that his pride

So arrogantly had to these denied?

to « All for Love,» published in 1678, he gives a severe rebuke to those men of rank, who, having acquired the credit of wit, either by virtue of their quality, or by common fame, and finding themselves possessed of some smattering of Latin, become ambitious to distinguish themselves by their poetry from the herd of gentlemen. And is not this," he exclaims, « a wretched affectation, not to be contented with what fortuue has done for them, and sit down quietly with their estates, but they must call their wits in question, and needlessly expose their nakedness to public view? Not considering that they are not to expect the same approbation from sober men, which they have found from their flatterers after the third bottle. If a little glittering in discourse has passed them on us for witty men, where was the necessity of undeceiving the world? Would a man who has an ill title to an estate, but yet is in possession of it, would he bring it of his own accord to be tried at Westminster? We who write, if we want the talent, yet have the

may

And
To search and censure Dryden's works, and try
If those gross faults his choice pen doth commit
Proceed from want of judgment, or of wit?
Or if his lumpish fancy does rufuse
Spirit and grace to his loose slattern muse?
Five hundred verses every morning writ
Prove him no more a poet than a wit.»

not I have leave impartially

excuse, that we do it for a poor subsistence; but what can be urged in their defence, who, not having the vocation of poverty to scribble, out of mere wantonness take pains to make themselves ridiculous? Horace was certainly in the right, where he said, 'That no man is satisfied with his own condition.' A poet is not pleased, because he is not rich; and the rich are discontented, because the poets will not admit them of their number. Thus the case is hard with writers: if they succeed not, they must starve; and if they do, some malicious satire is prepared to level them, for daring to please without their leave. But while they are so eager to destroy the fame of others, their ambition is manifest in their concernment; some poem of their own is to be produced, and the slaves are to be laid flat with their faces on the ground, that the monarch may appear in the greater majesty.» This general censure of the persons of wit and honour about town is fixed on Rochester in particular, not only by the marked allusion in the last sentence, to the despotic tyranny which he claimed over the authors of his time, but also by a direct attack upon such imitators. of Horace, who make doggrel of his Latin, misapply his censures, and often contradict their own. It is remarkable, however, that he ascribes this imitation rather to some zany of