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for Italian) by the lord chamberlain's servants in 1598. Shakspeare is said—though Gifford controverts it—to have aided in the introduction of this comedy on the stage. By this admirable drama Jonson acquired high reputation and numerous enemies, whom the temper and lofty scorn of one conscious of his own high powers, and struggling for the very necessaries of life, did not tend to conciliate. Marston and Decker were foremost in the assaults upon "the lime and mortar poet," the "bricklayer" with his "hod and trowel," jeering at his scorbutic face when they could not write down his genius; provoking him, as he says, "on every stage with their petulant styles, as if they wished to single him out as their adversary." But Jonson pursued the course which he had prescribed to himself, despite of calumny and clamour—stooping to no unworthy courting of favour by conforming to vulgar prejudices, but seeking—his aim through life—to correct the taste, to reform the judgment, and to improve the morals of his countrymen. And with this end in view, he put on the stage in 1599 his comical satire, "Every Man out of his Humour." Its reception was such as the growing fame of the author deserved, and honoured by the presence of his early and steady patron the queen. These two fine dramas exhibit strongly the peculiar power of Jonson's mind. A keen observer of the dispositions of mankind, their characteristic foibles and habits, he exhibits these with a vigour, distinctness, and truth that prove him to be a great moralist, who sought by the power of satire to work a social reform, and to make the stage—what it should ever be—the instructor in virtue, not the stimulant to vice. And so in his next play, "Cynthia's Revels," performed in 1600, he exposed to the ridicule of the people the fopperies and the ceremonious sillinesses of an age whose fantastic manners and euphuistic language were afterwards so happily exhibited by Sir Walter Scott. The satire was too true and telling not to be at once appropriated by many a courtier, and the imaginary insults were soon avenged by his old enemies both on the stage and off it. Jonson administered a heavy retaliation in his "Poetaster," gibbeting Marston as Crispinus, in traits that were unmistakable, and pourtraying Decker as Demetrius with such justice, that by his angry recrimination he adopted the picture and fixed his name to it for ever. This piece, we are told, involved Jonson with the army and the lawyers; but he contrived to appease the anger of both professions. Decker's rage found vent in the Satiro Mastix, or the Untrussing of the Humorous Poet; and Jonson pays off "the untrusser" in the apologetic address added to his "Poetaster." It must be confessed that the personalities and scurrility of both parties are pretty well balanced. Jonson about this time tried his hand at tragedy. One, "Richard Crookback," was never played, and the manuscript was burnt with other papers; another, "Sejanus," was played at the Globe in 1603, Shakspeare taking a part. It was performed only for a few nights, but was subsequently recast, and again presented with better success. It is not strange that a wit of Jonson's reputation should be sought by the wits of the day. He became one of the luminaries at the celebrated club at the "Mermaid," and took the chief part in the "wit combats" which Beaumont has commemorated and Fuller described, breaking a lance with Shakspeare himself and other notabilities. At the Devil's tavern, Temple Bar, Ben was as omnipotent as in after days Dryden was at Will's, or Addison at Button's. Upon the accession of James, Jonson in conjunction with Decker was deputed to prepare the pageant for the king's reception. The latter quickly discerned the merit of the poet, and thenceforth took him into favour; and Jonson wrote more than one of those entertainments with which it was then the fashion to amuse the court. A fact is recorded highly to the honour of Jonson. Marston and Chapman produced a comedy, Eastward Hoe, in which Jonson had some small share. It gave such offence to the Scotch that the two former were thrown into prison, and it was said that the pillory and slit noses was to be their punishment; nevertheless, Jonson voluntarily joined them in prison and took his share of the danger, which happily passed away, nor does it seem to have affected his position with the king. Mr. Dyce mentions a second imprisonment which Jonson underwent with Chapman. In 1605 Jonson produced "Volpone," one of the dramas, says Gifford, "of which the nation may be justly proud," and its reception was too favourable not to awake the envy of its enemies. Between this and his next play he was occupied with those masques whose beauty and poetic excellence are at this day unrivalled, so that the "Epicæne, or the silent woman" was not acted till 1609. In the following year came the "Alchemyst," the noblest effort of the author's genius; but neither this nor the next play, "Cataline," was successful. More masques followed, and in 1614 he put on the stage "Bartholomew Fair," which was very popular. Two years afterwards came "The Devil is an Ass," and a folio volume of his tragedies and comedies, with some of the masques and other compositions. The favour of the king was shown in 1616 by conferring on the poet the post of laureate and a life pension of one hundred marks a year, which was afterwards augmented in 1630 by Charles I. to £100 and a cask of canary yearly. It was in the summer of 1618 that Jonson went to Scotland, and after visiting several persons of note he finally reached Hawthornden in April, 1619, spending that month with its owner, William Drummond the poet. Ben opened his heart fully and freely in their hours of social converse, and Drummond noted down his guest's remarks, with his own comments. There is no reason to believe that these were ever intended to be published; nevertheless, after the death of both parties they were given to the world, and in consequence, to adopt the words of Campbell, Jonson's memory has been damned for brutality and Drummond's for perfidy. Neither condemnation is justifiable, and no candid mind will endorse the fierce attack which Gifford has made on Drummond, while admiring the fervour with which he defends Jonson. On his return from Scotland Jonson visited Oxford, where the degree of M.A. was conferred on him; and for some years subsequent he appears to have spent much of his time with the most distinguished persons, with whom he was ever a welcome guest. The pressure of his means, and the expenses of failing health, obliged him to supplement his masques and courtly entertainments with work for the stage. Accordingly in 1625 he appeared again with "The Staple of News." A long interval of sickness and confinement followed, and in 1630 he produced "The New Inn." Its fate was not encouraging; and the only other dramatic pieces which he wrote were "The Magnetic Lady" and "Tale of a Tub." They do not sustain the reputation of his more vigorous years. Meantime a quarrel with Inigo Jones had deprived him of court patronage and the profit of writing the royal masques, and the city withdrew his salary as their "chronologer." Poverty, sickness, and years were working their work upon him. His state is disclosed in two sad letters which he addressed to two noble patrons, and not in vain. Gifts of money and tributes of respect were not wanting to alleviate the sufferings and soothe the spirits of the failing man. Once more the light of genius flashed up in all its pristine brightness, and his last drama, "The Sad Shepherd," may not only bear comparison with the best productions of his youth, but with anything of its kind in any age or country. Death was now approaching: he had long since returned to the faith of his fathers. He died on the 6th of August, 1637, and on the 9th was buried in the north aisle of Westminster abbey, "standing on his feet." For many a year his only epitaph was that which clings enduringly to his memory, "O Rare Ben Jonson," carved for eighteenpence by a stone-cutter through the charity of a friend. A tablet was added a century after his death; and when the grave was rebuilt some years ago, the original stone was taken away and the present one placed in its stead. In person Jonson was large and corpulent, especially in his later years. His features, though regular, were somewhat coarse, and characteristic of intellect and strong passion. A word or two of criticism is indispensable. In the mass of contradictory testimony as to his merits and his faults, it is hard to form a just estimate. That he was irascible, impatient of injury, scornful of inferior natures, and fierce in conflict with them, cannot be denied: that he was generous, brave, forgiving, and honest, is proved by many instances. "He blustered and was angry," writes his best apologist, "but his heart was turned to affection, and his enmities appear to have been short-lived, while his friendships were durable and sincere." As a dramatist he stands perhaps next to Shakspeare. A judgment quick and subtle, an intellect strong and massive, deeply imbued with classical learning, and profoundly impressed with the great moral mission of a dramatist, he never pandered to popular taste or outraged probability. If his dramas have not kept the stage like those of his great contemporary and superior, they are scarcely less the delight of the student; and while we give our whole heart to Shakspeare in love, we give all our mind to Jonson in admiration. We have not noticed