The third branch of History, the personal or biographical, cannot boast of any very celebrated cultivator during the period to which we are confined. Many ephemeral sketches, it is true, were given of the naval and military commanders of the day, at a time when enterprise and adventure enjoyed the marked protection of government; but no classical production in biography, properly so called, no enduring specimen of personal history seems to have issued from the press; at least we recollect no example, worth notice, in a separate form, and of the general compilers in this province, we are reduced to mention the names of Fox and Pits. The "Acts and Monuments of the Church," by the first of these writers, commonly called "Fox's Book of Martyrs," is a mixed composition; but as consisting principally of personal detail and anecdote, more peculiarly belonging to the department of biography. The first edition of the "Martyrology" was published in London in 1563, in one thick volume folio, and the fourth in 1583, four years before the death of the author, in two volumes folio. This popular work, which was augmented to three volumes folio in 1632, has undergone numerous editions, and perhaps no book in our language has been more universally read. "It may regarded," remarks Granger, "as a vast Gothic building: in which some things are superfluous, some irregular, and others manifestly wrong: but which, altogether, infuse a kind of religious reverence; and we stand amazed at the labour, if not at the skill, of the architect. This book was, by order of Queen Elizabeth, placed in the common halls of archbishops, bishops, deans, archdeacons, and heads of colleges; and was long looked upon with a veneration next to the Scriptures themselves."[482:A]
John Pits, who died in 1616, was a writer, in not inelegant Latin, of the lives of the Roman Catholic authors of England. His work, which was published after his death, at Paris, in 1619, 4to. is usually known and quoted by the title of De illustribus Angliæ scriptoribus. He is a bold plagiarist from Bale, partial from religious bigotry, and often inaccurate with regard to facts and dates.
To this summary of historical literature it will be necessary to add a few remarks on the translations which were made, during the era in question, from the Greek and Roman historians, as these would necessarily have much influence on the public taste, and would throw open to Shakspeare, and to those of his contemporaries who could not readily appeal to the originals, many sources of imagery and fable. It appears then, that from the year 1550 to the year 1616, all the great historians of Greece and Rome, had been either wholly or in part, familiarized in our language. That the Grecian classics were translated with any large portion of fidelity and spirit, will not easily be admitted, when we find their sense frequently taken from Latin or French versions; but they still served to stimulate curiosity, and to excite emulation. The two first books of Herodotus, 4to. appeared in 1584; Thucydides from the French of Claude de Seyssel, by Thomas Nicolls, folio, in 1550; a great part of Polybius, by Christopher Watson, 8vo. in 1568; Diodorus Siculus, by Thomas Stocker, 4to. in 1569; Appian, 4to. in 1578; Josephus, by Thomas Lodge, folio, in 1602; Ælian, by Abraham Fleming, 4to. in 1576; Herodian, from the Latin version of Politianus, by Nycholas Smyth, 4to. in 1591; and Plutarch's Lives, from the French of Amyot, by Sir Thomas North, folio, in 1579.
The Roman writers were more generally naturalized, without the aid of an intermediate version. Livy and Florus were given to the world by Philemon Holland, folio, in 1600; Tacitus, by Sir Henry Saville and Richard Grenaway, 4to. and folio, in 1591 and 1598; Sallust, by Thomas Paynell, 4to., and by Thomas Heywood, folio, in 1557 and 1608; Suetonius, by Philemon Holland, folio, 1606; Cæsar, by Arthur Golding, 4to., 1565, and by Clement Edmundes, folio, 1600; Justin, by Arthur Golding, 4to., 1564, and by Holland, 1606; Quintus Curtius, by John Brande, 8vo., 1561; Eutropius, by Nic. Haward, 8vo., 1564, and Marcellinus, by P. Holland, folio, 1609.
Such are the chief authors, original and translated, which, in the province of History, general, local, and personal, added liberally to the mass of information and utility which was rapidly accumulating throughout the Shakspearean era.
That our great poet amply availed himself of these stores, more particularly in those dramas which are founded on domestic and foreign history, every attentive reader of his works must have adequate proof. Several, indeed, of the writers that we have enumerated, though exclusively belonging to our period, and throwing much light on the manners, customs, and literature of their age, came rather too late for the poet's purpose; but of those who published sufficiently early, he has made the best use. Traces of his footsteps may be discerned in many of the authors that we have mentioned, but his greatest inroads seem to have been made through the compilations of Holinshed and Hakluyt, and through the version of Plutarch by North. All that was necessary in the minutiæ of fact, was derivable from the labours of the faithful Holinshed; much illustration was to be acquired from the manners-painting pen of Harrison; a knowledge of the globe and its marvels, was attainable in the narratives of Hakluyt; and the character and costume of Greece and Rome were vividly delineated in the delightful, though translated, pages of Plutarch. From these sources, and from a few which existed previous to the commencement of the poet's age, such as the Froissart of Lord Berners, and the Chronicle of Hall, were drawn and coloured those exquisite pictures of manners, history, and individual character, which fix and enrapture attention throughout the dramatic annals of Shakspeare. Indeed, from whatever mine the poet procured his ore, he uniformly purified it into metal of the finest lustre, and it may truly be added, that on the study of the "Histories" of Shakspeare, a more intimate acquaintance with human nature may be founded, than on any other basis.
Whilst on the subject of History, we must deviate in a slight degree from our plan, which excludes the detail of science, to notice two works in Natural History, from which our bard has derived various touches of imagery and description; I mean the Roman and the Gothic Pliny, rendered familiar to our author by the labours of Holland, and Batman; the former having published his Translation of Pliny's immense collection in 1601, folio, and the latter his Commentary upon Bartholome, under the title of "Batman uppon Bartholome his booke De proprietatibus rerum," in 1582, folio. "Shakspeare," says Mr. Douce, speaking of Batman's Bartholome, "was extremely well acquainted with this work;" an assertion which he has sufficiently established in the course of his "Illustrations."[485:A] Few, indeed, were the popular books of his day, to which our author had not access, and from which he has not derived some slight fact or hint conducive to his purpose.
We now approach the last branch of our present subject, Miscellaneous Literature; a topic which, were we not restricted by various other demands, might occupy a volume; for in no era of our annals have miscellaneous writers been more abundant than during the reign of Elizabeth.
A set of men at this time infested the town, in a high degree dissipated in their manners, licentious in their morals, and vindictive in their resentments, yet possessing a large share of native and acquired talent. These adventurers, who hung loose upon society, appear to have seized upon the press for the purpose of indulging an unbounded love of ridicule and raillery, sometimes excited by the mere spirit of badinage and frolic, more frequently stimulated by malignity and revenge, and often goaded to the task by the pressure of deserved poverty. The fertility of these writers is astonishing; the public was absolutely deluged with their productions, which proved incidentally useful, however, in their day, by the exposure of folly, and are valuable, at this time, for the illustrations which they have thrown upon the most evanescent portion of our manners and customs.
Another description of miscellaneous authors, consisted of those who, attached to the discipline of the puritans, employed their pens in inveighing with great bitterness against the dress and amusements of the less rigid part of the community; and a third, equally distant from the levity of the first, and the severity of the second, class, was occupied in calmly discussing the various topics which morals, taste, and literature supplied.
As examples of the first species, no age can produce more extraordinary characters than Nash, Decker, and Greene; men intimately acquainted with all the crimes, follies, and debaucheries of a town-life, indefatigable as writers, and possessing the advantages of learning and genius. Thomas Nash, whose character as a satirist and critic, we have already given in a quotation from Dr. Lodge, died about the year 1600, after a life spent in controversy and dissipation. He had humour, wit, and learning, but debased by a plentiful portion of scurrility and buffoonery; he was born at Leostoffe in Suffolk, educated at Cambridge, where he resided as a Member of St. John's College, nearly seven years, and obtained great celebrity, as the confuter and silencer of the puritanical Mar-prelates, a service that merited the reputation which it procured him. He was the boon companion of Robert Greene, whose vices he shared, and with whom he acted as the unrelenting scourge of the Harveys.
This terror of his opponents, this Aretine of England, though most remarkable for his numerous prose pamphlets, was also a dramatic poet. His productions, as enumerated by Mr. Beloe, amount to five and twenty.[486:A]
Thomas Decker, an author still more prolific, began his career as a dramatic poet about the year 1597, and as a prose writer in 1603. His plays, now lost, preserved, or written in conjunction with others, amount to twenty-eight; but it is in his capacity as a miscellanist that we have here to notice him.
His tracts, of which thirty have been attributed to him, and near five and twenty may be considered as genuine, clearly prove him to have been an acute observer of the fleeting fashions of his age, and a participator in all its follies and vices. His "Gul's Horne Booke, or Fashions to please all sorts of Guls," first printed in 1609, exhibits a very curious, minute, and interesting picture of the manners and habits of the middle class of society, and on this account will be hereafter frequently referred to in these pages.[487:A] That experience had tutored him in the knaveries of the metropolis, the titles of the following pamphlets will sufficiently evince. "The Belman of London, bringing to Light the most notorious Villanies that are now practised in the Kingdome," 1608; one of the earliest books professing to disclose the slang of thieves and vagabonds; and remarks Warton, from a contemporary writer, the most witty, elegant, and eloquent display of the vices of London then extant.[487:B] "Lanthern and Candle Light: Or, The Bell-Man's Second Night's Walke. In which he brings to light a Brood of more strange Villanies than ever were till this Yeare discovered" 4to. 1612. "Villanies discovered by Lanthorn and Candle Light, and the Helpe of a new Crier called O-per-se-O. Being an Addition to the Belman's second Night's Walke, with canting Songs never before printed." 4to. 1616. It will occasion no surprise, therefore, if we find this describer of the arts and language of thieving himself in a jail; he was, in fact, confined in the King's Bench prison from 1613 to 1616, if not longer. The most remarkable transaction of his life appears to have been his quarrel with Ben Jonson, who, no doubt sufficiently provoked, satirizes him in his Poetaster, 1601, under the character of Crispinus; a compliment which Decker amply repaid in his "Satiromastix, or the Untrussing of the humorous Poet," 1602, where he lashes Ben without mercy, under the designation of Horace Junior. Jonson replied in an address to the Reader, introduced in the 4to. edition of his play, in place of the epilogue, and points to Decker, under the appellation of the Untrusser. Decker was an old man in 1631, for in his Match me in London, published in that year, he says: "I have been a priest in Apollo's Temple many years, my voice is decaying with my age;" he probably died in 1639, the previous year being the date of his latest production.
Of Robert Greene, the author of near fifty productions[488:A], the history is so highly monitory and interesting as to demand more than a cursory notice. It affords, indeed, one of the most melancholy proofs of learning, taste, and genius being totally inadequate, without a due control over the passions, to produce either happiness or respectability. This misguided man was born at Norwich, about the middle of the sixteenth century, of parents in genteel life and much esteemed. He was sent to St. John's College, Cambridge, from whence, at an early period of his education, he was, unfortunately for his future peace of mind, induced to absent himself, on a tour through Italy and Spain. His companions were wild and dissolute, and, according to his own confession[488:B], he ran headlong with them into every species of dissipation and vice.
On his return to England, he took his degree of Batchelor of Arts at St. John's, in 1578, and afterwards, removing to Clare-hall, his Master of Arts degree in that college, 1583. We learn, from one of his numerous tracts, that, immediately after this event, he visited the metropolis, where he led a life of unrestrained debauchery. Greene was one of those men who are perpetually sinning and perpetually repenting; he had a large share of wit, humour, fancy, generosity, and good-nature, but was totally deficient in that strength of mind which is necessary to resist temptation; he was conscious, too, of his great abilities, but at the same time deeply conscious of the waste of talent which had been committed to his care. When we find, therefore, that he was intended for the church, and that he was actually presented to the vicarage of Tollesbury, in Essex, on the 19th of June, 1584[489:A], we may easily conceive how a man of his temperament and habits would feel and act; he resigned it, in fact, the following year, no doubt shocked at the disparity between his profession and his conduct; for we find, from his own relation, that a few years previous to this incident, he had felt extreme compunction on hearing a sermon "preached by a godly learned man," in St. Andrew's Church, Norwich.[489:B]
It was shortly after this period that he married; and, if any thing could have saved Greene from himself, this was the expedient; for the lady he had chosen was beautiful in her person, amiable and moral in her character, and we know, from the works of this unhappy man, that his heart had been the seat of the milder virtues, and that he possessed a strong relish for domestic life.
The result of the experiment must lacerate the feelings of all who hear it; for it exhibits, in a manner never surpassed, the best emotions of our nature withering before the touch of Dissipation. The picture is taken from a pamphlet of our author's, entitled "Never Too Late," printed in 1590, where his career is admirably and confessedly shadowed forth under the character of the Palmer Francesco. It would appear from this striking narrative, if the minutiæ, as well as the outline of it, are applicable to Greene, that he married his wife contrary to the wishes of her father; their pecuniary distress was great, but prudence and affection enabled them to realize the following scene of domestic felicity:—"Hee and Isabel joyntly together taking themselves to a little cottage, began to be as Ciceronicall as they were amorous; with their hands thrift coveting to satisfy their hearts thirst, and to be as diligent in labours, as they were affectionate in loves; so that the parish wherein they lived, so affected them for the course of their life, that they were counted the very mirrors of methode; for he being a scholer, and nurst up in the universities, resolved rather to live by his wit, than any way to be pinched with want, thinking this old sentence to be true, the wishers and woulders were never good householders; therefore he applied himselfe in teaching of a schoole, where by his industry, hee had not onely great favour, but gate wealthe to withstand fortune. Isabel, that shee might seeme no lesse profitable, then her husband carefull, fell to her needle, and with her worke sought to prevent the injurie of necessitie. Thus they laboured to maintain their loves, being as busie as bees, and as true as turtles, as desirous to satisfie the world with their desert, as to feede the humours of their own desires. Living thus in a league of united virtues, out of this mutuall concord of conformed perfection, they had a sonne answerable to their owne proportion, which did increase their amitie, so as the sight of their young infant was a double ratifying of their affection. Fortune and love thus joyning in league, to make these parties to forget the stormes, that had nipped the blossom of their former yeres."[490:A]
The poetry of Greene abounds still more than his prose with the most exquisite delineations of rural peace and content, and the following lines feelingly paint this short and only happy period of his life:—
Deeply is it to be lamented, and with a sense, too, of humiliation for the frailty of human nature, that, with such inducements to a moral and rational life, with sufficient to support existence comfortably, for he had some property of his own, and his wife's dowry had been paid[491:B], and with a child whom he loved, and with a wife whom he confesses was endowed with all that could endear and dignify her sex, he could suffer his passions so far to subdue his reason, as to throw these essentials towards happiness away! In the year 1586 he abandoned this amiable woman and her son, to revel in all the vicious indulgences of the metropolis. The causes of this iniquitous desertion may be traced in his works; from these we learn that, in the first place, she had endeavoured, and perhaps too importunately for such an irritable character, to reform his evil propensities[491:C], and secondly that on a visit to London on business, he had been fascinated by the allurements of a courtesan[491:D], and on this woman, whose name was Ball, and on her infamous relations, for her brother was afterwards hanged[491:E], he squandered both his own property and that of his wife.
It is almost without a parallel that during the remainder of Greene's life, including only six years, he was continually groaning with anguish and repentance, and continually plunging into fresh guilt; that in his various tracts he was confessing his sins with the deepest contrition, passionately apostrophizing his injured wife, imploring her forgiveness in the most pathetic terms, and describing, in language the most touching and impressive, the virtue of her whom he had so basely abandoned.
He tells us, under the beautifully drawn character of Isabel, by whom he represents his wife, that upon her being told, by one of his friends, of his intended residence in London, and by another, of the attachment which had fixed him there, she would not at first credit the tale; but, when convinced, she hid her face, and inwardly smothered her sorrows, yet grieving at his follies, though unwilling to hear him censured by others, and at length endeavouring to solace her affliction by repeating to her cittern some applicable verses from the Italian of Ariosto. He then adds, that she subsequently hinted her knowledge of the amour to him in a letter, saying "the onely comfort that I have in thine absence is the child, who lies on his mother's knee, and smiles as wantonly as his father when he was a wooer. But, when the boy sayes, 'Mam where is my dad, when wil he come home;' then the calm of my content turneth to a present storm of piercing sorrow, that I am forced sometime to say, 'unkinde Francesco that forgets his Isabell. I hope Francesco it is thine affaires, not my faults, that procure this long delay."[492:A]
The following pathetic song seems to have been suggested to Greene by the scene just described, and is a further proof of the singular disparity subsisting between his conduct and his feelings:—
"BY A MOTHER TO HER INFANT.
In the mean time he pursued his career of debauchery in Town, whilst his forsaken wife retired into Lincolnshire. In July 1588, he was incorporated at Oxford, at which time, says Wood, he was "a pastoral sonnet maker, and author of several things which were pleasing to men and women of his time: they made much sport, and were valued among scholars."[493:B] In short, such had been the extravagance of Greene, that he was now compelled to write for his daily support, and his biographers, probably without any sufficient foundation, have chosen to consider him as the first of our poets who wrote for bread. It should be recorded, however, that his pen was employed not only for himself but for his wife; for Wood tells us, and it is a mitigating fact which has been strangely overlooked by every other writer, that he "wrote to maintain his wife, and that high and loose course of living which poets generally follow."[494:A] We have reason, indeed, to conclude, that the income which he derived from his literary labours was considerable, for his popularity as a writer of prose pamphlets, which, as Warton observes, may "claim the appellation of satires[494:B]," was unrivalled. Ben Jonson alludes to them in his Every Man out of his Humour[494:C], and Sir Thomas Overbury, describing a chamber-maid, says "she reads Greenes works over and over; but is so carried away with the Mirror of Knighthood, she is many times resolv'd to run out of herself, and become a lady-errant."[494:D]
It must be confessed that many of the prose tracts of Greene are licentious and indecent; but there are many also whose object is useful and whose moral is pure. They are written with great vivacity, several are remarkable for the most poignant raillery, all exhibit a glowing warmth of imagination, and many are interspersed with beautiful and highly polished specimens of his poetical powers. On those which are employed in exposing the machinations of his infamous associates, he seems to place a high value, justly considering their detection as an essential service done to his country; and he fervently thanks his God for enabling him so successfully to lay open the "most horrible Coosenages of the common Conny-Catchers, Cooseners and Crosse Biters," names which in those days designated the perpetrators of every species of deception and knavery.[494:E]
But the most curious and interesting of his numerous pieces, are those which relate to his own character, conduct, and repentance. The titles of these, as they best unfold the laudable views with which they were written, we shall give at length.
1. Greene's Mourning Garment, given him by Repentance at the Funerals of Love, which he presents for a Favour to all young Gentlemen that wishe to weane themselves from wanton Desires. Both pleasant and profitable. By R. Greene, Utriusque Academiæ in Artibus Magister. Sero sed serio. Lond. 1590.
2. Greene's Never Too Late. Sent to all youthful Gentlemen, decyphering in a true English Historie those particular vanities, that with their frosty vapours nip the Blossomes of every Braine from attaining to his intended perfection. As pleasant as profitable, being a right Pumice Stone, apt to race out Idlenesse with delight and Folly with admonition. By Robert Greene, In Artibus Magister. Lond. 1590.
3. Greene's Groatsworth of Wit. Bought with a million of Repentance, describing the Folly of Youth, the Falshood of make-shift Flatteries, the Miserie of the Negligent, and Mishaps of deceyving Courtezans. Published at his dying Request, and newly corrected and of many errors purged. Felicem fuisse infaustum. Lond. 1592.
4. Greene's Farewell to Follie. Sent to Courtiers and Scholers, as a President to warne them from the vaine Delights that drawe Youth on to Repentance. Sero sed serio. By Robert Greene.
5. The Repentance of Robert Greene, Maister of Artes. Wherein, by himselfe, is laid open his loose Life, with the Manner of his Death. Lond. 1592.
6. Greene's Vision. Written at the instant of his death, conteyning a penitent Passion for the folly of his Pen. Sero sed serio. By Robert Greene.
In these publications the author has endeavoured to make all the reparation in his power, by exposing his own weakness and folly, by detailing the melancholy effects of his dissipation, and by painting in the most impressive terms the contrition which he so bitterly felt. In what exquisite poetry he could deplore his vicious habits, and by what admirable precepts he could direct the conduct of others, will be learnt from two extracts taken from his "Never Too Late," in the first of which the Penitent Palmer, the intended symbol of himself, repeats the following ode:
The second extract, entitled The Farewell of a friend, is supposed to be addressed to Francesco the Palmer, "by one of his companions;" such an one, indeed, as might have saved him from ruin, had he sought for the original in real life.
"Let God's worship be thy morning's worke, and his wisdome the direction of thy dayes labour.
"Rise not without thankes, nor sleepe not without repentance.
"Choose but a few friends, and try those; for the flatterer speakes fairest.
"If thy wife be wise, make her thy secretary; else locke thy thoughts in thy heart, for women are seldome silent.
"If she be faire, be not jealous; for suspition cures not womens follies.
"If she be wise, wrong her not; for if thou lovest others she will loath thee.
"Let thy children's nurture be their richest portion: for wisdome is more precious than wealth.
"Be not proude amongst thy poore neighbours; for a poore mans hate is perillous.
"Nor too familiar with great men; for presumption winnes disdaine."[497:A]
The virtues of Greene were, it is to be apprehended, confined to his books, they were theoretical rather than practical; for, however sincere might be his repentance at the moment, or determined his resolution to reform, the impression seems to have been altogether transient; he continued to indulge, with few interruptions, his vicious course, until a death, too accordant with the dissipated tissue of his life, closed the melancholy scene. He died, says Wood, about 1592, of a surfeit taken by eating pickled herrings and drinking Rhenish wine.[497:B] It appears that his friend Nash was of the party.
Of the debauchery, poverty, and misery of Greene, Gabriel Harvey, with whom he had carried on a bitter personal controversy, has left us a highly-coloured description. If the last scene of his life be not exaggerated by this inveterate opponent, it presents us with a picture of distress the most poignant and pathetic upon record.
"I once bemoned," relates Harvey, "the decayed and blasted estate of M. Gascoigne, who wanted not some commendable parts of conceit, and endevour: but unhappy M. Gascoigne, how lordly happy, in comparison of most unhappy M. Greene? He never envyed me so much as I pitied him from my hart; especially when his hostesse Isam, with teares in her eies, and sighes from a deeper fountaine (for she loved him deerely) tould me of his lamentable begging of a penny pott of Malmesie;—and how he was faine poore soule, to borrow her husbandes shirte, whiles his owne was a washing: and how his dublet, and hose, and sworde were sold for three shillings: and beside the charges of his winding sheete, which was four shillinges, and the charges of his buriall yesterday in the New-church yard neere Bedlam, which was six shillinges and foure pence; how deeply hee was indebted to her poore husbande: as appeered by hys owne bonde of tenne poundes: which the good woman kindly shewed me: and beseeched me to read the writing beneath; which was a letter to his abandoned wife, in the behalfe of his gentle host: not so short as persuasible in the beginning, and pittifull in the ending.
Doll,
I charge thee by the love of our youth, and by my soules rest, that thou wilte see this man paide: for if hee and his wife had not succoured me, I had died in the streetes.
The pity which Harvey assumes upon this occasion may justly be considered as hypocritical; for the pamphlet whence the above extract has been taken, abounds in the most rancorous abuse and exaggerated description of the vices of Greene, and contains, among other invectives, a sonnet unparalleled, perhaps, for the keen severity of its irony, and for the dreadful solemnity of tone in which it is delivered. It is put into the mouth of John Harvey, the physician, who had been dead some years, but who had largely participated of the torrent of satire which Greene had poured upon his brothers, Gabriel and Richard. If it be the composition of Gabriel, and there is reason to suppose this to be the case, from the tract in which it appears, it must be deemed infinitely superior, in point of poetical merit, to any thing else which he has written.
JOHN HARVEY THE PHYSICIAN'S WELCOME TO ROBERT GREENE!
We have entered thus fully into the character and writings of Greene, from the circumstance of his having been the most popular miscellaneous author of his day, from the striking talent and genius which his productions display, and from the moral lesson to be drawn from his conduct and his sufferings. It may be useful to remark here, that a well chosen selection from his pamphlets, now all extremely rare, would furnish one of the most elegant and interesting volumes in the language.[500:A]
Of the next class of miscellaneous writers, those derived from that part of the community which adhered to the tenets and discipline of the Puritans, and who employed their pens chiefly in satirizing their less enthusiastic neighbours, it will be sufficient to notice two, who have attracted a more than common share of attention, as well for the rancour of their animadversion, as for their rooted antipathy to the stage. The first of these, Stephen Gosson, was educated at Christ Church, Oxford; on leaving the University, he went to London, where he commenced poet and dramatist, and, according to Wood, "for his admirable penning of pastorals, was ranked with Sir P. Sidney, Tho. Chaloner, Edm. Spencer, Abrah. Fraunce, and Rich. Bernfield."[500:B] His dramatic writings, which consist of a tragedy, founded on Cataline's conspiracy, a comedy, and a morality, were never printed. Of his devotion to the Muses, however, he soon after heartily repented, as of a most heinous sin; for, imbibing the sour severity of the Puritans, he left the metropolis, became tutor in a gentleman's family, in the country, and subsequently took orders, declaiming in a style so vehement against the amusements of his early days, as to acquire a great share of popular notoriety. The work by which he is best known is entitled "The Schoole of Abuse. Conteining a pleasaunt Invective against Poets, Plaiers, Jesters, and such like Caterpillers, of a Comonwelth; setting up the Flagge of Defiance to their mischievous exercise, and overthrowing their Bulwarkes by prophane Writers, naturall Reason and common experience. A Discourse as pleasaunt for Gentlemen that favour learning, as profitable for all that wyll follow vertue. By Stephen Gosson, Stud. Oxon." London, 1597. This was speedily followed by another attack in a pamphlet termed, "Playes confuted in five Actions, &c. Proving that they are not to be suffred in a christian common weale, &c.[501:A];" a philippic which he dedicated to Sir Francis Walsingham, as he had done his Schoole to Sir Philip Sidney; both of whom considered the liberty which he had taken, rather in the light of an insult than a compliment.
The warfare of Gosson, however, was mildness itself, compared with that which Philip Stubbes carried on against the same host of poetical sinners. This puritanical zealot, whose work we have repeatedly quoted, commenced his attack upon the public in the year 1583, by publishing in small 8vo. the first edition of his "Anatomie of Abuses: contayning a discoverie, or briefe summarie of such notable vices and imperfections as now rayne in many Christian Countreyes of the Worlde: but (especiallie) in a verie famous Ilande called Ailgna: &c." A second impression, which now lies before me, was printed in 1595, 4to. and both it and the octavo are among the scarcest of Elizabethan books. "Stubbes," remarks Mr. Dibdin, "did what he could, in his Anatomy of Abuses, to disturb every social and harmless amusement of the age. He was the forerunner of that snarling satirist, Prynne; but I ought not thus to cuff him, for fear of bringing upon me the united indignation of a host of black-letter critics and philologists. A large and clean copy of his sorrily printed work, is among the choicest treasures of a Shakspearean virtuoso." He subjoins, in a note, commencing in the true spirit of bibliomaniacism, that "Sir John Hawkins calls this 'a curious and very scarce book;' and so does my friend, Mr. Utterson; who revels in his morrocco-coated copy of it—'Exemplar olim Farmerianum!'" Then proceeding more soberly, he adds, "Let us be candid, and not sacrifice our better judgments to our book-passions. After all, Stubbes's work is a caricatured drawing. It has strong passages, and a few original thoughts; and is, moreover, one of the very few works printed in days of yore, which have running titles to the subjects discussed in them. These may be recommendations with the bibliomaniac: but he should be informed that this volume contains a great deal of puritanical cant, and licentious language: that vices are magnified in it in order to be lashed, and virtues diminished that they might not be noticed. Stubbes equals Prynne in his anathemas against Plays and Interludes; and in his chapters upon 'Dress' and 'Dancing,' he rakes together every coarse and pungent phrase in order to describe 'these horrible sins' with due severity. He is sometimes so indecent, that, for the credit of the age, and of a virgin reign, we must hope that every virtuous dame threw the copy of his book, which came into her possession, behind the fire. This may reasonably account for its present rarity."[502:A]
Of the tone in which Stubbes book is written no inaccurate judgment may be formed from the various passages which we have already quoted; but the following short extract will more fully develope perhaps, the acrimony of his pen than any paragraph that has yet been brought forward. He is speaking of the neglect of Fox's Book of Martyrs, "whilst other toyes, fantasies and bableries," he adds, "wherof the world is ful, are suffered to be printed. Then prophane schedules, sacraligious libels, and hethnical pamphlets of toyes and bableries (the authors whereof may vendicate to themselves no smal commendations, at the hands of the devil for inventing the same) corrupt men's mindes, pervert good wits, allure to baudrie, induce to whordome, suppresse virtue and erect vice: which thing how should it be otherwise? for are they not invented and excogitat by Belzebub, written by Lucifer, licensed by Pluto, printed by Cerberus, and set a broche to sale by the infernal furies themselves to the poysning of the whole world."[502:B]
The works of Gosson and Stubbes are now chiefly valuable for the numerous illustrations which they incidentally give of the manners, customs, dress, and diversions, of their age, and especially for the light which they throw on the character and costume of the stage.
The progress of discussion has at length brought us to the third class of Miscellaneous Writers, who may be considered as possessing a more decorous and philosophic cast in composition than the authors who have just fallen beneath our notice. The individuals of this genus, too, are numerous, but we shall content ourselves with the mention of three, who were more than usually popular in their day, Thomas Lodge, Abraham Fleming, and Gervase Markham. Lodge was educated at Oxford, which he entered about 1573; he took his degree of Doctor of Medicine at Avignon, and practised as a physician in London, where he died in 1625. He was a dramatic poet as well a miscellaneous writer, and was considered by his contemporaries as a man of uncommon genius. He appears to have been, not only a scholar, but a man of the world, to have possessed no small share of wit and humour, and to have uniformly wielded his pen in support of morality and good order. Of his pieces no doubt many have perished; in his professional capacity, only one remains, a Treatise on the Plague; but the productions which acquired him most celebrity were written to expose the follies and vices of the times, and of these, about half a dozen are preserved. He is now best known by his "Wits Miserie and the Worlds Madnesse. Discovering the Devils incarnate of this Age. Lond. 1596:" a tract which, although so extremely rare as to be in the possession of only one or two collectors, has been frequently quoted, owing to its containing some interesting notices of contemporary writers. The principal faults in the literary character of Lodge seem to have been a love of quaintness and affectation; the very titles of his pamphlets indicate the former; the alliteration in the one just transcribed is notorious, and another is termed "Catharos. Diogenes in his Singularitie. Wherein is comprehended his merrie baighting fit for all men's benefits: Christened by him, A Nettle for Nice Noses, 1591." From a passage in The Returne from Pernassus it is evident that he was thought to be deeply tainted with Euphuism, the literary folly of his time. The poet is speaking of Lodge and Watson, both, he says,