The birds in unfrequented fhades express,
Who, better taught at home, yet please us lefs:

mittee, or, the Faithful Irishman; the Great Favorite, or, the Duke of Lerma; the Indian Queen, a tragedy, written in conjunction with our author; the Surprizal, a tragi-comedy; and the Vestal Virgin, or the Roman Ladies, a tragedy: the last has two different conclufions, one tragical, and the other, to use the author's own words, comical. The laft five plays were col lected together, and published by Tonfon, in a fmall 12mo voJume, in 1722. The Blind Lady was printed with fome of his poems.

Langbaine fpeaks in very high terms of Sir Robert's merit, in which he is copied by Giles Jacob. See their Lives of the Poets.

This gentleman was, however, extremely pofitive, remarkably overbearing, and pretending to univerfal knowledge; which failings, joined to his having then been of an oppofite party, drew upon him the cenfure of Shadwell, who has fatirized him very feverely in a play, called The Sullen Lovers, under the name of Sir Pofitive At-all, and his lady, whom he first kept, and afterwards married, under that of Lady Vain.

DERRICK.

Ver. 1. As there is mufic] One would have thought from this elegant exordium, that Sir Robert Howard was a fon of fancy, and warbled his native wood notes wild with peculiar freedom and felicity. His poems, which are hard and profaic, are not of this kind. The edition to which these were prefixed were printed by Herringman, 1660, and contains a Panegyric to the King, Songs and Sonnets, the Blind Lady, a comedy; the fourth book of Virgil, the Achilleis of Statius, a panegyric on General Monk. The fongs are without harmony of numbers; the fourth book of Virgil lame and not faithful; the notes added to the Achilleis are fome of them learned; the panegyric on Monk very inferior to that of Dryden. He wrote befides, the Committee, a comedy; the Great Favourite, a tragedy; the Indian Queen, a tragedy; the Surprizal, a tragi-comedy; the Vestal Virgin, a tragedy. He was member of Parliament for Stockbridge, in Hampshire, and was brother-in-law to Mr, Dryden, who addreffed his Annus Mirabilis to him, but quarrelled with him afterwards on defending dramatic rhyme, which Dryden defended in his Dialogue on Dramatic Poetry. In this epiftle, the lines 23, 25, 31, 40, 44, 60, 100, are all of them full of fulfome and falfe adulation. The most celebrated of

5

So in your verse a native sweetness dwells,
Which shames compofure, and its art excels.
Singing no more can your foft numbers grace,
Than paint adds charms unto a beauteous face.
Yet as, when mighty rivers gently creep,

Their even calmnefs does fuppofe them deep; 10
Such is your mufe: no metaphor fwell'd high
With dangerous boldness lifts her to the sky:
Those mounting fancies, when they fall again,
Shew fand and dirt at bottom do remain.
So firm a ftrength, and yet withal fo fweet, 15
Did never but in Samfon's riddle meet.
'Tis ftrange each line so great a weight should
bear,

And yet no fign of toil, no fweat appear.
Either your art hides art, as ftoics feign
Then leaft to feel, when moft they fuffer pain;
And we, dull fouls, admire, but cannot fee 21
What hidden springs within the engine be;
Or 'tis fome happiness that still pursues
Each act and motion of your graceful mufe.
Or is it fortune's work, that in your head
The curious net that is for fancies fpread,

25

Howard's poems was the Duel of the Stags. Shadwell feverely
fatirized him under the character of Sir Positive At-all in his
Sullen Lovers.
Dr. J. WARTON.

Ver. 26. The curious net &c.] A compliment to a poem of Sir Robert's, entitled Rete Mirabile.

DERRICK.

30

Lets through its meshes every meaner thought,
While rich ideas there are only caught?
Sure that's not all; this is a piece too fair
To be the child of chance, and not of care.
No atoms cafually together hurl'd
Could e'er produce fo beautiful a world.
Nor dare I fuch a doctrine here admit,
As would destroy the providence of wit.
"Tis your ftrong genius then which does not feel.
Those weights, would make a weaker spirit reel.
To carry weight, and run fo lightly too,
Is what alone your Pegafus can do.

34

Great Hercules himself could ne'er do more, Than not to feel those heavens and gods he

Your eafier odes, which for delight were penn'd, Yet our inftruction make their fecond end: We're both enrich'd and pleas'd, like them that

WOO

45

At once a beauty, and a fortune too.
Of moral knowledge poefy was queen,
And still she might, had wanton wits not been;
Who, like il guardians, liv'd themselves at

And gives us hope, that having feen the days When nothing flourish'd but fanatic bays, All will at length in this opinion rest, "A fober prince's government is best.” This is not all; your art the way has found 55 To make the improvement of the richest ground,

60

That foil which thofe immortal laurels bore,
That once the facred Maro's temples wore.
Elifa's griefs are fo exprefs'd by you,
They are too eloquent to have been true.
Had the fo fpoke, Æneas had obey'd
What Dido, rather than what Jove had faid.
If funeral rites can give a ghoft repose,
Your muse fo juftly has difcharged thofe,
Elifa's fhade may now its wandring ceafe,
And claim a title to the fields of peace.
But if Æneas be oblig'd, no lefs
Your kindness great Achilles doth confefs;
Who, drefs'd by Statius in too bold a look,
Did ill become those virgin robes he took.
To understand how much we owe to you,
We must your numbers, with your author's,

view:

Then we shall fee his work was lamely rough,
Each figure ftiff, as if defign'd in buff:
His colors laid fo thick on every place,
As only fhew'd the paint, but hid the face.

65

70

75

But as in perspective we beauties fee,
Which in the glass, not in the picture, be;
So here our fight obligingly mistakes

That wealth, which his your bounty only

makes.

Thus vulgar dishes are, by cooks disguis'd,

80

More for their dreffing, than their substance priz'd.

Your curious notes fo fearch into that age,
When all was fable but the facred page,

That, fince in that dark night we needs muft ftray,

We are at least misled in pleasant way.

85

But what we moft admire, your verse no less
The prophet than the poet doth confess.
Ere our weak eyes difcern'd the doubtful
ftreak

Of light, you faw great Charles his morning

break.

So fkilful feamen ken the land from far,

90

Which fhews like mifts to the dull paffenger. To Charles your muse first pays her duteous love,

As still the antients did begin from Jove.

With Monk you end, whofe name preferv'd fhall be,

As Rome recorded Rufus' memory,

Who thought it greater honor to obey

His country's intereft, than the world to fway.

9,5