times where he mentions contemporary dramatists but once." In the nineteenth chapter of his history he quotes a whole scene from Shadwell's "Stockjobbers." Otway was warm in his praise of Shadwell; and Langbaine said: "I own I like his comedies better than Mr. Dryden's, as having more variety of characters, and those drawn from the life." The truthfulness of Shadwell's comedies show but too well the state of society of the time. There had been a great change since the era of rare Ben Jonson. The delicate airy Masques which were so well fitted to reveal his lyrical genius had now ceased to be the favourite diversion. Instead of truth to nature, vivid portraiture of character, and analysis of motives, the corrupt court of Charles and James craved amusement, and that of the most dissolute kind. Dryden, who had been so willing to pander to the vices of the court, despised and underrated Shadwell, and as far as morality is concerned, Shadwell's plays are no better than Dryden's. He preserved the old coarse traditions of the Restoration. His comedies are disfigured by that grossness, that rank impurity, which makes them now unfit to be read. Yet the originality and humour, the brilliancy and sparkle, of these plays made him one of the most popular writers of the age; and he showed far more insight and real power than Dryden. The "Lancashire Witches and Teague O'Divelly "held the stage many years after Shadwell had bidden life a last farewell, and this after the taste of the people had changed and become purer and more healthful. This was doubtless owing to the fine flashes of humour in the play, for it contains one of the earliest specimens of the "stage Irishman" who is always so irresistibly attractive. In delineating the vices and follies so fashionable, Shadwell showed both skill and wit, but many times he condescended to coarse caricature. His aim was not, like Jonson, to reform and change. He was the observer and the painter, never the reformer or the preacher. From an unknown hand came the Epilogue to Shadwell's "Volunteers"—perhaps he wrote it himself, who knows? "Shadwell, the great support o' the comic stage, Born to expose the follies of the age. To whip prevailing vices and unite Mirth with instruction, profit with delight." But his popularity was owing to his skill in delighting, never instructing his audience. Shadwell always had an ardent admiration for Ben Jonson, and called him the greatest dramatist of the world. Many of his own plays were modelled upon Jonson's original method of bringing into prominence certain humours" or personal eccen tricities. It is obvious that the personification of single propensities does not result in the creation of real men and women, but abstract beings, who have little in common with the great mass of humanity. Then, though Shadwell was a quick observer, he did not see far beneath the surfaces of human life. He neither knew how to develop character nor depict its more subtle differences. This lack of intellectual depth affected his estimate of Shakespeare. In 1678 he “improved " "Timon of Athens," saying, "Shakespeare never made more masterly strokes than in this, yet I can truly say I have made it into a play." This attempt of Shadwell's was, in Southey's opinion, temerity which should have caused his bust in Westminster Abbey to have been cast either in lead or in brass, or an emblematic amalgama of the two metals. As a laureate Shadwell's poetical efforts showed little originality or power. It was he who first inaugurated the Annual Birthday Odes. Each laureate who came after continued to furnish a poem on the occasion of every royal birthday, or important anniversary, or court festival-his "quit rent ode, his peppercorn of praise," as Cowper termed it,-until Southey himself wisely abolished the custom. When Southey was offered the laurel he expressed the wish that the appointment might be placed on a footing which would exact from the holder nothing like a schoolboy's task, but leave him at liberty to write when and how he pleased, and thus render the office as honourable as it was originally intended to be. Shadwell's odes to William were poor enough. Had they been better it is doubtful if William would have known it. Shadwell's life was uneventful. Born in 1640 at Lanton Hall in Norfolk, his childhood was a happy one. He was of good family, but his father's fortune had been greatly reduced by the civil war, and "Tom" was educated for the bar. After a course of study at Cambridge and the Inner Temple, he went for a tour on the Continent, but his travels but increased an unrest and dislike of steady application to study which had been evident from the first. He returned to London to write verses and design plays rather than attend to his profession. The attractions of the theatre proved too alluring for his pleasureloving temperament, so he soon gave up law entirely, frequented the taverns and coffee houses, and lived a life of alternate dissipation and earnest devotion to literary pursuits. The result of that devotion was seen in the production of a comedy every year after he had once won fame by his "Sullen Lovers." He married an actress whose knowledge of the stage and its requirements was of great help to him in his work. The marriage was a happy one, and to the generosity of his son, Sir John Shadwell, we owe the monument in Westminster Abbey. Shadwell's private life was unfortunately not free from the vices so common to his age; but politically he was honourable, steadfast, and sincere. Always a “true blue Protestant," no hopes of court preferment ever had the slightest power to tempt him to change his faith. He was also a true friend and an openhearted enemy. He never struck an opponent in the back, but faced him in fair fight. He and Dryden had once been friendly enough for Dryden to write one of Shadwell's prologues, but Dryden's religious apostasy excited Shadwell's ire, and he attacked Dryden in some satirical verses which were never forgiven. Poor Shadwell paid dearly for his rashness. The injustice of "Mac Flecknoe" has been a serious detriment to Shadwell's fame. Dryden's satire hurt him in the same way as Pope's "Dunciad" hurt Cibber. Dryden and Pope were so much greater than either Shadwell or Cibber that it is not surprising that the world all these years has drawn its impression from the two great satires rather than from an independent study of the lives or works of Shadwell and Cibber. Shadwell felt in a measure compensated by the gift of the laurel, though he was too magnanimous to ever taunt Dryden with his misfortunes. He was laureate only four short years, and he died eight years before his great enemy. The end was due to an overdose of opium-sad termination to a dramatic career of unusual brilliancy and influence. Shadwell's funeral sermon was preached by Dr. Brady, chaplain to the king. Old Chelsea Church was thronged by a sympathetic audience, and many tears were shed for the man whose life had not all been spent in selfish pleasure, but had diffused itself in many kindly acts. The sermon dwelt on Shadwell's political integrity, and then Dr. Brady said: "His natural and acquired abilities made him very amiable to all who conversed with him, a very few being equal in the becoming qualities which adorn and set off a complete gentleman; his very enemies, if he has now any left, will give him this character, at least, if they knew him as thoroughly as I did." Panegyrics of this kind are not always to be trusted; but we can feel sure, that in spite of Shadwell's faults as a man and his limitations as a poet, he in no way resembled the portrait of him which has come down to us in the immortal verse of Dryden. SELECTIONS FROM SHADWELL. ODE ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE KING'S WELCOME, thrice welcome, this auspicious morn Sprung from a mighty race which was designed Illustrious heroes, whose prevailing fates Raised the distressed to high and mighty states; Than their Adolphus gained by the Imperial crown. They cooled the rage, humbled the pride of Spain. From that great root, which did the shock sustain, Thou hast restored our laws their force again; But thee a Fate much more sublime attends, Oh glorious birth, from which such blest effects shall flow. On this glad day let every voice And instrument proclaim our joys, And let all Europe join in the triumphant noise, Io Triumphe let us sing, Io Triumphe let us sing, And let the sound through all the spacious welkin ring. |