for the legal profession, but, while a student in the Middle Temple, began to write plays and poems, of the former of which nine have been preserved. His chief play is the tragedy of The Brother and Sister, which, though in the highest degree objectionable on account of its subject, contains some scenes of striking excellence. The passion which Ford most successfully delineates is that of love: he excels in representing the pride and gallantry, and high-toned honour of youth, and the enchanting softness, or mild and graceful magnanimity of the female character.*

The last of these dramatists that merits particular notice, is JAMES SHIRLEY (1594-1666), who was at one time a divine of the English Church, latterly a schoolmaster, and is said to have died of a fright into which he was thrown by the great fire of London. Between the year 1629 and his death, Shirley published thirtynine tragedies, comedies, and tragi-comedies, and was successful in all of these styles, but particularly in the second. Indeed, the comic scenes of Shirley display a refinement which completely distances the productions of his contemporaries, and reminds the reader of the genteel comedy, as it was called, of the succeeding century. On this account, we shall select from one of his plays the only specimen of the comic drama of the period, for which room can be afforded in the present volume. It relates to the extravagance of a lady who takes pleasure in nothing but the profligate gaieties of the city, and thinks herself entitled, in consideration of her high birth, to waste the fortune of her husband: it may be here presented under the title of

THE PRODIGAL LADY.

Aretina and the Steward.

Stew. Be patient, madam, you may have your pleasure.
Aret. 'Tis that I came to town for; I would not

Endure again the country conversation

To be the lady of six shires! the men,

So near the primitive making, they retain
A sense of nothing but the earth; their brains
And barren heads standing as much in want
Of ploughing as their ground: to hear a fellow
Make himself merry and his horse with whistling

* Edinburgh Review, XVIII. 289.

Sellinger's round; t'observe with what solemnity
They keep their wakes, and throw for pewter candlesticks;
How they become the morris, with whose bells

They ring all into Whitsun ales, and swear
Through twenty scarfs and napkins, till the hobby horse
Tire, and the maid-marian, dissolved to a jelly,

Be kept for spoon meat.

Stew. These, with your pardon, are no argument To make the country life appear so hateful,

At least to your particular, who enjoy'd

A blessing in that calm, would you be pleas'd
To think so, and the pleasure of a kingdom:
While your own will commanded what should move
Delights, your husband's love and power joined
To give your life more harmony. You liv'd there
Secure and innocent, beloved of all;

Prais'd for your hospitality, and pray'd for:
You might be envied, but malice knew

Not where you dwelt.—I would not prophesy,
But leave to your own apprehension
What may succeed your change.

Aret. You do imagine,

No doubt, you have talk'd wisely, and confuted
London past all defence. Your master should
Do well to send you back into the country
With title of superintendent baillie.

Enter Sir Thomas Bornwell.

Born. How now, what's the matter?. Angry, sweetheart?

Aret. I am angry with myself,

To be so miserably restrained in things
Wherein it doth concern your love and honour
To see me satisfied.

Born. In what, Aretina,

Dost thou accuse me? Have I not obeyed
All thy desires against mine own opinion?
Quitted the country, and removed the hope
Of our return by sale of that fair lordship
We liv'd in; chang'd a calm and retire life
For this wild town, compos'd of noise and charge?
*Aret. What charge more than is necessary

For a lady of my birth and education?

Born. I am not ignorant how much nobility

Flows in your blood; your kinsmen, great and powerful I' th' state, but with this lose not your memory

Of being my wife. I shall be studious,

Madam, to give the dignity of your birth

All the best ornaments which become my fortune,

But would not flatter it to ruin both,

And be the fable of the town, to teach

Other men loss of wit by mine, employed

To serve your vast expenses,

Aret. Am I then

Brought in the balance so, sir?

Born. Though you weigh

SHIRLEY.

Me in a partial scale, my heart is honest,
And must take liberty to think you have
Obeyed no modest counsel to affect,

Nay study, ways of pride and costly ceremony.
Your change of gaudy furniture, and pictures
Of this Italian master and that Dutchman's;
Your mighty looking-glasses, like artillery,
Brought home on engines; the superfluous plate,
Antique and novel; vanities of tiers;

Fourscore pound suppers for my lord, your kinsman;
Banquets for t' other lady, aunt and cousins;
And perfumes that exceed all: train of servants,
To stifle us at home and shew abroad,

More motley than the French or the Venetian,
About your coach, whose rude postilion

Must pester every narrow lane, till passengers
And tradesmen curse your choking up their stalls,
And common cries pursue your ladyship
For hind'ring o' the market.

Aret. Have you done, sir?

Born. I could accuse the gaiety of your wardrobe
And prodigal embroideries, under which

Rich satins, plushes, cloth of silver, dare
Not shew their own complexions. Your jewels,
Able to burn out the spectator's eyes,

And shew like bonfires on you by the tapers.
Something might here be spared, with safety of
Your birth and honour, since the truest wealth
Shines form the soul, and draws up just admirers.
I could urge something more.

Aret. Pray do; I like

Your homily of thrift.

Born. I could wish, madam,

You would not game so much.

Aret. A gamester too?

Born. But you are not to that repentance yet
Should teach you skill enough to raise your profit;
You look not through the subtlety of cards
And mysteries of dice, nor can you save

Charge with the box, buy petticoats and pearls,
Nor do I wish you should. My poorest servant

Shall not upbraid my tables, nor his hire,
Purchas'd beneath my honour. You may play,
Not a pastime but a tyranny, and vex
Yourself and my estate by 't.

Aret. Good,-proceed.

Born. Another game you have, which consumes more

Your fame than purse; your revels in the night,

Your meetings called the ball, to which appear,

As to the court of pleasure, all your gallants
And ladies, thither bound by a subpœna
Of Venus and small Cupid's high displeasure;
'Tis but the family of love translated

Into a more costly sin. There was a play on 't,
And had the poet not been brib'd to a modest
Expression of your antic gambols in 't,

63

Some deeds had been discover'd, and the deeds too
In time he may make some repent and blush
To see the second part danc'd on the stage.
My thoughts acquit you for dishonouring me
By any foul act, but the virtuous know
'Tis not enough to clear ourselves, but the
Suspicions of our shame.

Aret. Have you concluded

Your lecture?

Born. I have done; and howsoever
My language may appear to you, it carries
No other than my fair and just intent

To your delights, without curb to their fair
And modest freedom,

Among the inferior dramatists of the age may be mentioned, George Wilkins, author of The Miseries of Enforced Marriage; Robert Tailor, author of The Hog hath Lost his Pearl; Thomas Heywood, a player, and very voluminous play-writer, having assisted in the composition of no fewer than two hundred and twenty different pieces; Dr. Jasper Fisher, author of The Two Trojans; Thomas May, author of The Heir, a comedy, The Tragedy of Cleopatra, and other dramas; Brome, Nabbes, Randolph, Mayne, Habington, Marmion, Cartwright, Davenport, and Barry. Of all these writers specimens may be found in Dodsley's Collection of Old Plays, of which a third enlarged edition appeared in 1825, in twelve volumes. At the close of the reign of Charles I., the drama sank with the party which chiefly supported it, and did not revive till the restoration of monarchy in 1660. As it arose in a form considerably different, the class of dramatists whom we have been describing stand almost entirely by themselves in English literature, being only connected with their successors by SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT, who wrote plays both before and after the civil war and the Commonwealth, and partook of the merits of the one period, with the faults (hereafter to be pointed out) of the other,

PROSE WRITERS.

The prose writers of this age rank chiefly in the departments of theology, philosophy, and historical and antiquarian information. There was as yet hardly any vestige of prose employed with taste in fiction, or even

HOOKER.-CAMDEN.

65

in observations upon manners; though it must be observed, that one of the first prose works of the time was the pastoral romance of Arcadia by Sir Philip Sydney, which was written in the year 1580, and has been already alluded to.

One of the earliest, and also one of the greatest of the prose writers of the period, was RICHARD HOOKER (1554-1600), a man of obscure birth, educated by the charity of individuals, and who spent the better part of his days in an obscure situation in the Church. He wrote a work of immense learning, reflection, and eloquence, which was published in 1594, under the title Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, being a defence of the Church to which he belonged, against the sect called Puritans. This work is not to be regarded simply as a theological treatise; it is still referred to as a great authority upon the whole range of moral and political principles. It also bears a value as the first treatise in the English language which observed a strict methodical arrangement, and clear logical reasoning. The style perspicuous, forcible, and manly, evidently flows from the pure source of an ingenuous and upright mind.

WILLIAM CAMDEN (1551–1623) was also of humble birth, and owed his education to charity. Like Leland, he travelled over the greater part of England, with a view to the composition of a topographical work, which appeared in 1586, under the title of Britannia, and was soon after translated from the original Latin into English. The Britannia is a description of England, Ireland, and Scotland, such as they were in the time of the writer, and is a compilation of great value. It occupied the author ten years, and he had to study the British and Saxon tongues before commencing it. Camden also wrote a Greek Grammar, and some works of inferior importance. In the latter part of his life he attained the dignity of a prebend of Sarum, and was one of the kings-at-arms. He was much respected for his learning and industry, both in England and in foreign countries.

Next to Sir Philip Sydney, the most favourite personage of this period of English history is SIR WALTER RALEIGH, (born of an honourable family in Devonshire,