FOREIGN VICES DEPRECATED. And, from these springs, strange inundations flow, With massacres, conspiracy, treason, woe, Besides, with furies, fiends, earth, air, and hell, But, as there lives a true God in the heaven, Such as we are to him, to us is he, Where goodness must be wrought in flesh and blood: 73 SAMUEL DANIEL. (1562-1619.) DANIEL was the son of a music master, and was born near Taunton, in Somerset. He was educated at Oxford, and applied himself early to history and poetry. His merit procured him the patronage of the great, particularly of Mary, Countess of Pembroke, the sister of Sir Philip Sidney. He was a favourite also of Anne of Denmark, the Queen of James I. His largest work is "The History of the Civil Wars;" he wrote also a number of epistles, sonnets, and masques. The style of the "well-languaged Daniel" is pure and more modern in appearance than that of most writers of the times. "For his diction alone he would deserve to be studied, even though his works did not abound in passages of singular beauty."-Southey. He was an amiable and good man, and died in 1619, in virtuous and well-earned retirement. Let their vile cunning, in their limits pent, LXXXVII. Let them have fairer cities, goodlier soils And let us want their vines, their fruits the whiles, We care not for these pleasures; so we may LXXXVIII. Neptune, keep out from thy embraced isle Drown all corruptions, coming to defile FROM THE EPISTLE TO THE COUNTESS OF CUMBERLAND. He that of such a height hath built his mind, And with how free an eye doth he look down Are only gay afflictions, golden toil; Where greatness stands upon as feeble feet Nor is he moved with all the thunder cracks3 Up in the present for the coming times, 1 Pure, uncontaminated. 2 Foreign. 3 Compare Hor. Odes III. 3. PATRONAGE OF LEARNING. Appal not him, that hath no side at all, And whilst distraught ambition compasses, 75 THE NOBILITY EXHORTED TO THE PATRONAGE OF LEARNING. You mighty lords, that with respected grace Guide with the turning of your hand; Keep a right course; bear up from all disgrace; Hold up disgraced Knowledge from the ground; Be not, O be not accessary found Unto her death, that must give life to you!2 Where will you have your virtuous name safe laid?— Do you not see those prostrate heaps betray'd No, no; unsparing Time will proudly send Your memories, that cannot keep their own! 1 A mercantile speculation. The muse has too frequently had reason to remind negligent Mecænases that Achilles is indebted to Homer for immortality. CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. (1564-1593.) THE ripening of the drama from the rudeness of former ages is the great literary glory of the reigns of Elizabeth and James. We regret that our scanty limits preclude us from an extended series of extracts from the dramatic poets; who, if not for the uniform excellence of their writings, at least for individual passages displaying the highest abilities in their art, deserve to be in some measure rescued from the oblivion which has overshadowed them. Of all the precursors of Shakespeare, Marlowe seems to be allowed by universal consent the first rank in merit. Jonson's testimony to "Marlowe's mighty line" is familiar. He was the son of a shoemaker in Canterbury, and baptized February 26th 1564, so that there were only two months between his birth and that of Shakespeare. Marlowe was, therefore, more properly a contemporary than a precursor of Shakespeare. He was educated at King's School in Canterbury, and removed in 1581 to Bennet College, Cambridge. After graduating at Cambridge, he became an actor and writer for the stage. He was esteemed licentious in religious opinion, and some of his translations from Ovid were burnt by ecclesiastical authority. Warton, however, thinks that he owed his evil reputation to "the prejudiced and peevish puritans." He met with a tragical death in a low and disgraceful brawl, being stabbed by a serving-man named Archer, at Deptford. His surviving works are three or four tragedies, and other poems. The power of Marlowe lies in the terrible. "There is," says Hazlitt, 66 a lust of power in his writings, a hunger and thirst after unrighteousness, a glow of the imagination, unhallowed by anything but its own energies. His thoughts burn within him like a furnace of bickering flames; or throwing out black smoke and mists, that hide the dawn of genius, or like a poisonous mineral corrode the heart." His language is at times inflated, and scenes of low buffoonery are interspersed throughout his tragedies; but he was a great though irregular genius, and a master of tragic passion. Few things in dramatic literature equal the concluding scenes of Faustus and Edward II. FAUSTUS' VISION OF HELEN OF GREECE. Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships, THE DEATH OF FAUSTUS. More lovely than the monarch of the sky And none but thou shall be my paramour. THE DEATH OF FAUSTUS. Faustus Mephostophilis.1 Meph. Ah, Faustus, now thou hast no hope of heaven. Meph. I do confess it, Faustus, and rejoice. 'Twas I, that when thou wert the way to heaven Damm'd up thy passage; when thou took'st the book To view the scriptures, then I turned the leaves And led thine eye. 77 What, weep'st thou?-'tis too late. Despair!-Farewell. G. Ang. Oh, Faustus, if thou hadst given ear to me, But thou didst love the world: B. Ang. Gave ear to me, And now must taste hell-pains perpetually. G. Ang. Oh, what will all thy riches, pleasures, pomps, Avail thee now? B. Ang. To want in hell that had on earth such store. Nothing but vex thee more; [Exit. G. Ang. Oh thou hast lost celestial happiness, * * Hell is discovered. B. Ang. Now, Faustus, let thine eyes with horror stare * * * * Those, that are fed with sops of flaming fire, B. Ang. Nay, thou must feel them, taste the smart of all; [Exit. 1 The seducing spirit-See Goethe's Faust. Both the Mephistophelis and the Faust of Marlowe are very different from those of Goethe. Marlowe's Faust is a low sensual, selfish being, the reality and extremity of whose final misery are the sole motives of our pity. |