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he so represented Rome to us, in its rites, ceremonies, and customs, that if one of their poets had written either of his tragedies, we had seen less of it than in him. If there was any fault in his language, 'twas that he weaved it too closely and laboriously, in his comedies especially: perhaps, too, he did a little too much Romanise our tongue, leaving the words which he translated almost as much Latin as he found them; wherein, though he learnedly followed their language, he did not enough comply with the idiom of ours. If I would compare him with Shakspeare, I must acknowledge him the more correct poet, but Shakspeare the greater wit. Shakspeare was the Homer, or father of our dramatic poets: Jonson was the Virgil, the pattern of elaborate writing; I admire him, but I love Shakspeare. To conclude of him: as he has given us the most correct plays, so, in the precepts which he has laid down in his " Discoveries," we have as many and profitable rules for perfecting the stage, as any wherewith the French can furnish us.-Dryden.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
Beaumont and Fletcher, of whom I am next to speak, had, with the advantage of Shakspeare's wit, which was their precedent, great natural gifts, improved by study; Beaumont especially, being so accurate a judge of plays, that Ben Jonson, while he lived, submitted all his writings to his censure, and, 'tis thought, used his judgment in correcting, if not contriving, all his plots. What value he had for him, appears by the verses he writ to him, and therefore I need speak no farther of it. The first play that brought Fletcher and him in esteem was their "Philaster;" for before that they had written two or three very unsuccessful: as the like is reported of Be
Jonson, before he writ "Every Man in his Humour." Their plots were generally more regular than Shakspeare's, especially those which were made before Beaumont's death; and they understood and imitated the conversation of gentlemen much better; whose wild debaucheries, and quickness of wit in repartees, no poet before them could paint as they have done. Humour, which Ben Jonson derived from particular persons, they made it not their business to describe: they represented all the passions very lively, but above all, love. I am apt to believe the English language in them arrived to its highest perfection: what words have since been taken in, are rather superfluous than ornamental. Their plays are now the most pleasant and frequent entertainments of the stage; two of theirs being acted through the year, for one of Shakspeare's or Jonson's: the reason is, because there is a certain gaiety in their comedies, and pathos in their more serious plays, which suits generally with all men's humours. Shakspeare's language is likewise a little obsolete, and Ben Jonson's wit comes short of theirs.-Dryden.
GO, LOVELY ROSE.-A SONG.
Go, lovely rose !
Tell her that wastes her time and me,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her, that's young,
And shuns to have her graces spied,
In deserts, where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.
Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retir'd;
Suffer herself to be desir'd,
And not blush so to be admir'd.
Then die that she
The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee,
How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
YONDER is a little drum
Dusty wreaths and tatter'd flags
A Shepherd youth on Cheviot's hills
O pleasant are fair Cheviot's hills
And sweet and clear are Cheviot's rills
And balmily its tiny flowers
Breathe on the passing gales.
And thus hath felt the Shepherd boy
Nor thought there was in all the world
And so it was for many a day,
"Follow," said the drummer-boy,
"Rub-a-dub and rub-a-dub,”
On Egypt's arid waste of sand
O that he were on Cheviot's hills
Or could he drink of those sweet rills
Or breathe once more the balminess
At length upon his wearied eyes
"Take arms! Take arms," his leader cries, "The hated foeman's nigh ;'
Guns loudly roar-steel clanks on steel,
The Shepherd's blood makes red the sand,
'Mid moaning men-'
"Rub-a-dub and rub-a-dub,"
And this is glory? Yes; and still
Is but a sound and hollow.-Mark Lemon.
During the confinement of king John, the provost of the merchants and sheriffs of Paris made a present to the church of Notre Dame, of a wax-candle, (probably rolled up,) of the same length as the circumference of the walls of Paris.-St. Foix.
In the Formulæ of Marculphus, edited by Jerome Bignon, he tells us, with respect to lights, that the use of them was of great antiquity in the church; that the primitive Christians made use of them in the assemblies, which they held before day, out of necessity; and that afterwards they were retained even in day-light, as tokens of joy, and in honour of the Deity.