viction of a common intereft, formed affociations for the redress of private wrongs, and the prefervation of public fafety. So honourable was the origin of an inftitution generally reprefented as whimfical!

The young warrior among the ancient Germans, as well as among the modern knights, was armed, for the first time, with certain ceremonies proper to infpire martial ardour; but chivalry, confidered as a civil and military inftitution, is as late as the eleventh century. The previous difcipline and folemnities of initiation you will find in books of knighthood. Valour, humanity, courtesy, juftice, honour, were its characteristics: and to thefe were added religion; which, by infufing a large portion of enthufiaftic zeal, carried them all to a romantic excefs, wonderfully fuited to the genius of the age, and productive of the greatest and most permanent effects both upon policy and manners. War was carried on with less ferocity, when humanity, no less than courage, came to be deemed the ornament of knighthood, and knighthood a distinction fuperior to royalty, and an honour which princes were proud to receive from the hands of private gentlemen; more gentle and polished manners were introduced, when courtesy was recommended as the most amiable of knightly virtues, and every knight devoted himself to the fervice of a lady; violence and oppreffion decreased, when it was accounted meritorious to check and to punish them: a fcrupulous adherence to truth, with the most religious attention to fulfil every engagement, but particularly those between the fexes, as more eafily violated, became the diftinguishing character of a gentleman, because chivalry was regarded as the fchool of honour, and inculcated the most delicate fenfibility with respect to that point; and valour, feconded by fo many motives of love, religion, and virtue, became altogether irrefiftible.

That the fpirit of chivalry fometimes rofe to an extravagant height, and had often a pernicious tendency, muft however be allowed. In Spain, under the influence of a romantic gallantry, it gave birth to a series of wild adventures, which have been deservedly ridiculed: in the train of Norman ambition, it extinguished the liberties of England, and deluged Italy in blood; and we shall foon fee it, at the call of fuperftition, and as the engine of papal power, defolate Afia under the banner of the crofs. But these ought not to be confidered as arguments against an inftitution laudable in itself, and neceffary at the time of its foundation: and those who pretend to despise it, the advocates of ancient barbarifm and ancient ruflicity, ought to remember, that chivalry not only firft taught mankind to carry the civilities of peace into the operations of war, and to mingle politeness with the ufe of the fword, but roused the human foul from its lethargy, invigorated the human character, even while it foftened it, and produced exploits which antiquity cannot parallel. Nor ought they to forget, that it gave variety, elegance, and pleasure, to the intercourfe of life, by making woman a more effential part of fociety; and is therefore entitled to our gratitude, though the point of honour, and the refinements in gallantry, its more doubtful effects, fhould be excluded from the improvements in modern manners.'

Our

Our numerous engagements prevent our dwelling longer on this article, than to recommend it to the attention of instructors of youth, as, with the aid of good chronological tables, a proper elementary work in this ufeful branch of knowledge.

We are forry to obferve, however, that the Author has forgotten that neceffary article, efpecially in a work of this kind, a good alphabetical index.

ART. IV. JOHNSON's Biographical Prefaces to the Works of the Englifh Poets. Vols. III. and IV. Concluded. See laft Month's Re

view

A

FTER the liberal attention that was bestowed upon the two former volumes of the prefent publication, it will be lefs neceffary to enlarge upon thofe which remain.

The life of Dryden, the particulars of which are traced with great minutencís, contains, befide many curious and interesting anecdotes, much of the literary hiftory of his time; and the critical labour and attention that have been devoted to his works, do credit as well to the diligence as to the abilities of his learned Reviewer.

Dryden's merit as a profe writer having not, perhaps, been fufficiently attended to or remarked, it will be a gratification to our Readers to know Dr. Johnfon's fentiments concerning it:

• Criticism, either didactic or defenfive, occupies almost all his profe, except thofe pages which he has devoted to his patrons; but none of his prefaces were ever thought tedious. They have not the formality of a fettled style, in which the first half of the fentence betrays the other. The claufes are never balanced, nor the periods modelled; every word feems to drop by chance, though it falls into its proper place. Nothing is cold or languid; the whole is airy, animated, and vigorous; what is little, is gay; what is great, is fplendid. He may be thought to mention himself too frequently; but while he forces himself upon our esteem, we cannot refufe him to ftand high in his own. Every thing is excufed by the play of images and the fpritelinefs of expreffion. Though all is ealy, nothing is feeble; though all feems careless, there is nothing harth; and though, fince his earlier works, more than a century has paffed, they have nothing yet uncouth or obfolete.

He who writes much, will not easily efcape a manner, fuch a recurrence of particular modes as may be eafily noted. Dryden is always another and the fame, he does not exhibit a fecond time the fame elegancies in the fame form, nor appears to have any art other than that of expreffing with clear nefs what he thinks with vigour. His ftyle could not eafily be imitated, either ferioufly or ludicrously, for being always equable and always varied, it has no prominent or difcriminative characters. The beauty who is totally free from difproportion of parts and features cannot be ridiculed by an overcharged refemblance.'

From

From his profe, however, as Dr. Johnson properly remarks, Dryden derives only his accidental and fecondary praife; the veneration, continues he, with which his name is pronounced by every cultivator of English Literature, is paid to him as he refined the language, improved the fentiments, and tuned the numbers of English Poetry.

After about half a century of forced thoughts, and rugged metre, fome advances towards nature and harmony had been already made by Waller and Denham; they had fhewn that long difcourfes in rhyme grew more pleafing when they were broken into couplets, and that verfe confifted not only in the number but the arrangement of fyllables.

But though they did much, who can deny that they left much to do? Their works were not many, nor were their minds of very ample comprehenfion. More examples of more modes of compofition were neceffary for the establishment of regularity, and the introduction of propriety in word and thought.

Every language of a learned nation neceffarily divides itfelf into diction fcholallic and popular, grave and familiar, elegant and grofs; and from a nice diftinction of thefe different parts, arifes a great part of the beauty of style. But if we except a few minds, the favourites of nature, to whom their own original rectitude was in the place of rules, this delicacy of felection was little known to our authors, our fpeech lay before them in a heap of confufion, and every man took for every purpose what chance might offer him.

There was therefore before the time of Dryden no poetical diction, no fyftem of words at once refined from the groffness of domeftic uie, and free from the harshness of terms appropriated to particular arts. Words too familiar, or too remote, defeat the purpofe of a poet. From thofe founds which we hear on fmall or on coarfe occations, we do not eafily receive ftrong impreffions, or delightful images, and words to which we are nearly ftrangers, whenever they occur, draw that attention on themselves which they should convey to things.

Thofe happy combinations of words which diftinguish poetry from profe, had been rarely attempted; we had few elegancies or flowers of fpeech, the roses had not yet been plucked from the bramble, or different colours had not been joined to enliven one another.

It may be doubted whether Waller and Denham could have overborn the prejudices which had long prevailed, and which even then were sheltered by the protection of Cowley. The new verfification, as it was called, may be confidered as owing its eftablishment to Dryden; from whofe time it is apparent that English poetry has had no tendency to relapfe to its former favagenefs.'

At the clofe of this volume is a copy of an original letter from Dryden to his fons in Italy. The manufcript is preferved in the Lambeth Library. It is a curiofity, and as fuch we prefent it to our Readers:

"Dear Sons,

Sept, the 3d, our ftile. "Being now at Sir William Bowyer's in the country, I cannot write at large because I find myself fomewhat indifpofed with a cold,

and am thick of hearing, rather worfe than I was in town. I am glad to find, by your letter of July 26th, your style, that you are both in health; but wonder you should think me fo negligent as to forget to give you an account of the fhip in which your parcel is to come. I have written to you two or three letters concerning it, which I have fent by fafe hands, as I told you, and doubt not but you have them before this can arrive to you. Being out of town, I have forgotten the fhip's name, which your mother will enquire, and put it into her letter, which is joined with mine. But the mafter's name I remember: he is called Mr. Ralph Thorp; the fhip is bound to Leghorn, configned to Mr. Peter and Mr. Tho. Ball, merchants. I am of your opinion, that by Tonfon's means almost all our letters have mifcarried for this last year. But however he has missed of his defign in the Dedication, though he had prepared the book for it; for in every figure of Eneas he has caufed him to be drawn, like K. William, with a hooked nofe. After my return to town, I intend to alter a play of Sir Robert Howard's, written long fince, and lately put by him into my hands: 'tis called the Conquest of China by the Tartars. It will coft me fix weeks ftudy, with the probable benefit of an hundred pounds. In the mean time I am writing a song for St. Cecilia's Feaft, who, you know, is the patronefs of mufic. This is troublesome, and no way beneficial; but I could not deny the Stewards of the Feaft, who came in a body to me to defire that kindnefs, one of them being Mr. Bridgman, whofe parents are your mother's friends. I hope to fend you thirty guineas between Michaelmafs and Christmafs, of which I will give you an account when I come to town. I remember the counsel you give me in your letter; but diffembling, though lawful in fome cafes, is not my talent; yet, for your fake, I will ftruggle with the plain openness of my nature, and keep in my juft refentments against that degenerate order. In the mean time, I flatter not my felf with any manner of hopes, but do my duty, and fuffer for God's fake; being affured, beforehand, never to be rewarded, though the times fhould alter. Towards the latter end of this month, September, Charles will begin to recover his perfect health, according to his nativity, which, cafting it myfelf, I am fure is true, and all things hitherto have happened accordingly to the very time that I predicted them: I hope at the fame time to recover more health, according to my age. Remember me to poor Harry, whofe prayers I earnestly defire. My Virgil fucceeds in the world beyond its defert or my expectation. You know the profits might have been more; but neither my conscience nor my honour would fuffer me to take them: but I never can repent of my conftancy, fince I am thoroughly perfuaded of the justice of the cause for which I fuffer. It has pleafed God to raise up many friends to me amongst my enemies, though they who ought to have been my friends are negligent of me. I am called to dinner, and cannot go on with this letter, which I defire you to excufe; and am Your affectionate father, JOHN DRYDEN.”

This letter affords a confirmation of the ftories that are told by Dryden's former biographers, of his being addicted to aftrology; and that fome of his predictions, particularly those relative to the fate of his fon Charles, proved true. Neither wit

nor

nor wisdom are, at all times, fure defences against the delufions of fuperftition.

Of the mob of Gentlemen who are introduced into the fourth volume, if Denham (their leader) and a few others, be excepted, it may admit of a queftion how they came intitled to fuch a refpectable fituation. That it may not, however, be attributed to the partiality of the oftenfible Editor, let him spea for himself,-in the following very short extracts:

SPRAT.

He confidered Cowley as a model; and fuppofed that as he was imitated, perfection was approached. Nothing therefore but Pindaric liberty was to be expected. There is in his few productions no want of fuch conceits as he thought exccellent; and of thofe our judgment may be fettled by the first that appears in his praise of Cromwell, where he fays that Cromwell's fame, like man, will grow white as it grows old.'

OT WAY.

Of the poems which this collection admits, the longest is the Poet's Complaint of his Muse, part of which I do not understand; and in that which is lefs obfcure I find little to commend. The language is often grofs, and the numbers are harsh.'

Veneration for the author of the Orphan, and Venice Preferved, may be allowed in the prefent cafe to have had its influence.

DUKE.

In his Review, though unfinished, are fome vigorous lines. His poems are not below mediocrity; nor have I found much in them to be praised.'

HALIFA X.

It would now be efteemed no honour, by a contributor to the monthly bundles of verses, to be told, that, in strains either familiar or folemn, he fings like Montague.'

STEPNEY.

He apparently profeffed himself a poet, and added his name to thofe of the other wits in the verfion of Juvenal; but he is a very licentious tranflator, and does not recompenfe his neglect of the author by beauties of his own. In his original poems, now and then, a happy line may perhaps be found, and now and then a fhort compofition may give pleasure. But there is in the whole little either of the grace of wit, or the vigour of nature.'

HUGHES.

The character of his genius I fhall tranfcribe from the correfpondence of Swift and Pope.

"A month ago," fays Swift, "was fent me over, by a friend of mine, the works of John Hughes, Esquire. They are in profe and verfe. I never heard of the man in my life, yet I find your name as a fubfcriber. He is too great a poet for me; and I think among the mediocrifts, in profe as well as verse."

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