fatal illness which almost immediately afterwards seized him, rendered all such views abortive.

In the same year also, the kindness of King James for our poet was manifested in the substantial shape of a grant to him for life, by letters patent, of a pension of 100 marks; the first annual and determinate sum ever assigned to poets laureate, in which dignity Jonson now succeeded Daniel. In the summer of 1618 he made, on foot, a journey to Scotland, where he spent several months in a series of visits; the last of which was to Drummond of Hawthorndean, for whom he appears to have conceived an attachment, natural enough to his effusive goodheartedness, but of which the object was not worthy. That, living in comparatively obscure retirement, Drummond should take notes, for his own future entertainment and that of his visitors, of the observations upon men, and things, and books, of an observer so wise and so witty, and so favourably placed for observation as Ben Jonson, was not only excusable, but laudable; the objection is, that the conversations were not noticed fairly; and that Drummond, "with the malice and envy of a bad heart, which Chetwood ascribes to him, merely took down-and this in his own way—such portions only, or for the great part, of his visitor's observations, as told against somebody or something. Mr. Gifford, in his Life of Ben Jonson, clearly demonstrates how utterly unjust are the attacks upon his author, that have been based upon the Conversations left by Drummond; with whom, however, the acerb critic is savage beyond the demerits of the case.

On his return to England, Jonson, crowned with the favours of his sovereign, the most distinguished wits of his time crowding his train and courting his acquaintance, was invited by Dr. Corbet to Christ Church, Oxford, where he was created M.A. (July 19, 1619), and where he spent some time, composing those beautiful masques which were commissioned from him, both for the nobility and the court at this period; and some of those pieces which are mentioned in the Execration on Vulcan, and which were destroyed with his study. There perished his Commentary on the Poetics; his Grammar complete, of which we have now but the fragments; his Journey into Scotland, his May Lord, and several other dramas; the unfinished Life of Henry V., Rape of Proserpine, the poem in celebration of the ladies of England; and, more valuable perhaps than all, a vast body of philological collections, with notes from the classics, the fruit of twenty years' laborious study.

It is probable that Jonson spent much of his time at the country seats of the nobility and gentry, as he has several allusions to visits of this kind; and we know that he attended the court in some of the

royal progresses: he was at Burleigh, and at Belvoir Castle, and at Windsor, where his masque of the Gipsies Metamorphosed was performed, and at Newmarket. In 1621 the king conferred on him the reversion (which, however, he never realised) of the office of the Master of the Revels, and would have knighted him, but Jonson prudently declined the honour.

From 1616 to 1625 Jonson had never turned his thoughts to the drama, a labour in which he never delighted; his productions all this time were wholly occupied with masques and occasional poems: and his leisure seems to have been agreeably occupied in correspondence with the literati of this and other countries, in attendance upon the court, in visits to his friends, and in his own fine library, especially rich in scarce and valuable books; which, we have the testimony of Selden and others, he was ever ready to allow the liberal use of to his friends and to learned men. Moreover, there are more valuable books known to have been given by Jonson to individuals than by any person of that period.

In 1625, the pressure of pecuniary difficulties, materially aggravated by the expense and necessary inaction of a long illness—a palsy —and doubtless, to a certain extent, by the death of his steady patron King James, rendered it necessary for him to turn his attention to the stage; and he produced the Staple of News, a comedy of no ordinary merit. Next year came the pleasant Anti-masque of Jophiel; but during the following three years we have nothing from our poet's pen, whose infirmities were rapidly increasing, and with them his wants. He had laboured from his youth under a scorbutic affection, which assailed him with increasing virulence as his constitution gave way; and to this was added a tendency to dropsy, not the least of his evils. He was no longer able to leave his room, or to move in it without assistance; and in this condition he applied again to the theatre, and produced the comedy of the New Inn, which was brought out Jan. 19, 1630. The play was driven from the stage by a cabal; but the affecting epilogue, in which "the maker, sick and sad," appeals for consideration to the audience, aroused the kindness of Charles I., who immediately sent 1007. to the suffering poet, raised the 100 marks, laureatal salary, to 1007., and added a tierce of Canary, Jonson's favourite wine; his majesty also gratified the poet by commanding him, in conjunction with Inigo Jones, to prepare the usual entertainments for the festivity of the new year. The first piece was Love's Triumph through Callipolis; the second, produced about two months after, was Chloridia, better known for its having given birth to the dispute between these ancient friends than by any merit of its own: it unfortunately happened that on the title-page

the name of Ben Jonson was printed before that of Inigo Jones; the consequence of which was, that the jealous architect took care to employ his own predominance at court to prevent Ben Jonson's being again employed there. A source of emolument was thus lost to him at a time when his helpless state rendered every such source of peculiar importance to him; and doubly so, that he was utterly devoid of human prudence; and so generous in his hospitality, that his table was ever open, and liberally, to his friends. The mean cruelty of Jones, in excluding Jonson from court patronage, had an unfavourable effect upon his circumstances in many respects; for the city, finding him out of favour at court, characteristically withdrew their own patronage; and the poet's official salary being at all times irregularly paid, he was driven to extremities, and to address pathetic epistles to the Lord Treasurer Western, to the Duke of Newcastle, and others for relief, which was not withheld; and he thus obtained

intervals of ease. In 1632 he produced the Magnetic Lady, and a few trifling pieces of poetry; in 1633 his last dramatic work, the Tale of a Tub, was submitted to the stage. He continued, while his faint and faltering tongue could articulate, to pay his annual duty to his royal master, and he wrote several interludes for the Duke of Newcastle; but one bright ray alone broke through the gloom which hung over his closing hours. In this he produced the Sad Shepherd, a pastoral drama of exquisite beauty, the greater half of which, however, was unfortunately lost in the confusion that followed his death.

That event took place on the 6th August, 1637; and on the 7th the departed poet was buried in Westminster Abbey, "in the north aisle, in the path of square stone, opposite to the 'scutcheon of Robertus de Ros." The place is identified by a stone, on which are engraved the words,

"O rare Ben Jonson !"

which Aubrey says, "Sir John Young, of Great Milton, happening to pass through the abbey, and not enduring that the remains of so great a man should lie at all without a memorial, gave one of the workmen eighteenpence to cut." A subscription, indeed, was raised for a noble monument to Rare Ben Jonson; but the Great Rebellion came on, the money was returned to the subscribers, and the monument was not executed.

Jonson left no family; his wife died before 1618, and none of their children survived him.

JOHN MARSTON.

(Born circa 1575.)

Of the personal history of John Marston scarcely any thing whatever is known. The account which Oldys, Baker, and others have adopted from Wood will not bear the slightest investigation. That he was born somewhere about 1575 may be assumed from the fact that in 1605 he was on terms of friendship with Ben Jonson, to whom The Malcontent is dedicated, with warmth and apparent sincerity. Some complimentary verses also, written by him, are prefixed to Sejanus; and in the same year he joined Jonson and Chapman in writing Eastward Hoe, for which they were all committed to prison, and were in danger of losing their ears and noses, but received a pardon. We, however, find him afterwards glancing with some

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severity at Ben, on account of his Catiline and Sejanus, in his epistle prefixed to Sophonisba. Know," says he, "that I have not laboured in this poem to relate any thing as an historian, but to enlarge every thing as a poet. To transcribe authors, quote authorities, and to translate Latin prose orations into English blank verse, hath in this subject been the least aim of my studies." Langbaine observes, and with good reason, "that none who are acquainted with the works of Ben Jonson can doubt that he is meant here, if they will compare the orations in Sallust with those in his Catiline."

On his part, Ben Jonson, we are informed by Drummond of Hawthorndean, spoke of Marston with great disrespect, and said he had fought him several times.

The following is the chronological list of Marston's plays :

1. Antonio and Mellida. Tragedy. 1602.

2. Antonio's Revenge. Tragedy. 1602. (A continuation of the preceding.) 3. Malcontent. Tragi-Comedy. 1604.

4. Dutch Courtesan. Comedy. 1605. Altered and revived by Mrs. Behn, under the title of the Match in Newgate.

5. Parasitaster. Comedy. 1606.

6. The Wonder of Women; or, Sophonisba. Tragedy. Performed 1595; printed 1606.

7. What you will. Comedy. 1607.

8. The Insatiate Countess. Tragedy. 1613. (This play has been attributed rather to W. Barksted.)

Marston is said to have been living in 1633.

JOHN FLETCHER.

(1579-1625.)

"John Fletcher, one of the happy triumvirate (the other two being Jonson and Shakespeare) of the chief dramatic poets of our nation in the last foregoing age; among whom there might be said to be a symmetry of perfection, while each excelled in his own peculiar way: Ben Jonson, in his elaborate pains and knowledge of authors; Shakespeare, in his pure vein of wit and natural poetic height; Fletcher, in a courtly elegance and gentle familiarity of style, and withal a wit and invention so overflowing, that the luxuriant branches thereof were frequently thought convenient to be lopped off by his almost inseparable companion, Francis Beaumont."*