retained in this employ, on all occafions, during his whole life afterward.

But thefe flighter efforts of his muse did not wholly occupy his genius. Both inclination and ambition concurred in prompting him to the graver and weightier works of the drama. Accordingly, in 1605, came out his comedy of Volpone, or the Fox; which being wholly finished in the fpace of five weeks, did not hinder him from indulging the fournefs of his temper, in a fatirical comedy, called, Eastward. Hoe, written about this time against the Scotch nation. In this piece of intemperance, Chapman and Marton were his coadjutors; and they were all three committed to prifon, and brought in danger of lofing their ears and nofes in the pillory; but, however, had the good fortune to obtain a par

don.

To repair this fault, Johnfon facrificed both his time and his mufe, almoft intirely, to gratify the taste of the court in mafques, for fome years; fo that his next play did not make its appearance till 1609. But he made fome amends for the length of this interval, by the perfection of the piece, which he intitled, Epicene, or the Silent Woman; this being generally esteemed the moft exact and finished. comedy that our nation hath produced. And the next year he brought forth The Alchemist, one of the best of his comedies; but that was followed the enfuing year, 1611, by. the worst of his tragedies, intitled Cataline. VOL. V.

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In 1613 our author took a tour to Paris, where he was admitted to an interview and converfation with cardinal Perron, whom he treated with all that frankness and bluntness which was fo much his nature. It was about this time that he commenced a quarrel with Inigo Jones, whom he therefore made the fubject of his ridicule, in his next comedy, called Bartholomew-Fair, acted in 1614. That was fucceeded by The Devil's an Afs, in 1616. This year he published his works in one folio volume; and the poet-laureat's falary, of an hundred marks per annum, was fettled upon him for life, by king James I. the fame year.

Crowned with thefe honours by his prince, he faw the most diftinguished wits of his time crowding his train and courting his acquaintance. And, in that fpirit, he was invited to Chrift-Church in Oxford, by Dr. Corbet, then fenior-ftudent of that college. Our poet gladly accepted the invitation; and, having paffed fome time in cultivating his mufe in that delightful feat, he received an additional atteftation of his merit from the university, who prefented him with the honorary degree of master of arts, at the act in 1619. On the death of the laureat, Samuel Daniel, in October following, Johnfon fucceeded to that poft, the duty of which had been chiefly performed by him a long time before.

The year had not yet expired, when our now crowned laureat took a tour into Scotland,

on

on purpose to vifit a favourite brother-poet, Mr. Drummond of Hawthornden in that country. He paffed fome months with this ingenious friend, to whom he opened his heart with a moft unreserved freedom and confidence, the fweeteft gift of friendship. Our author was much pleased with the adventures of this journey, and celebrated them in a particular poem; which, with feveral more of his productions, being accidentally burnt, about two or three years afterwards, that loss drew from him a poem, which he called, An Execration upon Vulcan. He feems to have let no year pafs without the amusement of writing fome of these smaller pieces. And thofe, with the mafques, which the office of poet-laureat then particularly called for every Christmas, filled" up the interval to the year 1625; when his comedy, intitled, The Staple of News, appeared upon the ftage. Not long afterwards he fell into an ill state of health, which, however, did not hinder the discharge of his duty at court. And he found time alfo to gratify the more agreeable exercife of play-writing; for, in 1629, he brought another comedy, called, The New Inn, or the light Heart, to the theatre. But here his adverfaries prevailed over him ; the play was hiffed out of the house on its first appearance there; and our laureat had recourfe to his pride for a revenge, which dictated an ode to himself, threatning to leave the ftage. This ceconomy having reduced his finances to a low ebb, the E 2

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king graciously fent him a purse of an hundred pounds. That goodness was properly and in character repaid by an epigram, addreffed to his royal benefactor, which, for some special reasons, is inferted here.

Great Charles, among the holy gifts of grace,
Annexed to thy perfon and thy place,

'Tis not enough (thy piety is fuch)

To cure the called king's-evil with a touch,
But thou wilt yet a kingly maft'ry try,
To cure the poet's evil, poverty :
And in thefe cures doft to thyfelf enlarge,
As thou doft cure our evil at thy charge.
Nay, and in this thou fhew'ft to value more,
One poet, than of other folks ten fcore.
O piety! fo to weigh the poor's estates,
O bounty fo to difference the rates.
What
can the poet with his king may do,
But that he cure the people's evil too?

But his majefty's munificence did not ftop
here; he augmented the laureat's falary of
an hundred marks, to an hundred pounds a
year, together with the addition of a tierce of
canary wine; which penfion has been conti-
nued to his fucceffors in that office ever fince.
Our poet drew up a petition for this favour, in
the following form:

The humble petition of poor Ben,

To th' best of monarchs, masters, men,
King Charles.

Doth

Doth most humbly fhew it,

To your majefty, your poet:
That whereas your royal father
James the bleffed, pleafed the rather,
Of his fpecial grace to letters,
To make all the mufes debtors
To his bounty by extenfion
Of a free poetic penfion,

:

A large hundred marks annuity,
To be given me in gratuity,
For done fervice, and to come:
And that this fo accepted fum
Or difpenfed in books or bread,
(For on both the mufe was fed)
Hath drawn on me from the times,
All the envy of the rhimes,
And the rat❜ling pit-pat noise
Of the lefs poetic boys,

When their pot-guns aim to hit,
With their pellets of fmall wit,
Parts of one (they judg'd) decay'd,
But we laft out ftill unlay'd.

Please your majesty to make,
Of your grace, for goodness' fake,
Thofe your father's marks your pounds;
Let their fpite (which now abounds)
Then go on, and do its worst,
This would all their envy burft:
And fo warm the poet's tongue,

You'll read a snake in his next fong.

King Charles the firft's perfonal character makes it no improbable fuppofition, that these

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