"Thy genius calls thee not to purchase fame
In keen iambics, but mild anagram.
Leave writing plays, and choose for thy command
Some peaceful province in acrostic land,
There thou mayest wings display and altars raise,
And torture one poor world ten thousand ways."
Dryden calls this kind of satire Varronian, as he weaves a sort of imaginary story into which he introduces the object of his attack. He was under the impression that this was the first piece of ridicule written in heroics, and his claim seemed correct as far as England was concerned, but Boileau and Tassoni had preceded him. Willmot says, "Dryden is wanting in the graceful humour of Tassoni, and exquisite power of Boileau. His wit has more weight than edge—it beat in armour, but could not cut gause." The greater part of Dryden's satire could not cut anything, nor be distinguished from elaborate vituperation. He wrote an essay on Satire, in which he shows a much better knowledge of history than of humour. His best passages are in the "Spanish Friars," but they are weak and mainly directed against the profligacy of the Church. The servant says of the friar, "There's a huge, fat religious gentleman coming up, Sir. He says he's but a friar, but he's big enough to be a Pope; his gills are as rosy as a turkey-cock's; his great belly walks in state before him like an harbinger, and his gouty legs come limping after it. Never was such a ton of devotion seen."
Samuel Butler affords one of the many examples of highly gifted literary men who have died in great poverty. His works, recommended by Lord Dorset, were read largely, and even by the King himself; but there was then no great demand for books, and authors had to look to patrons, and eat the uncertain bread of dependence. We may suppose, however, that he was an improvident man, for during his life he held several offices, and was at one time steward of Ludlow Castle.
Butler possessed a real gift of humour, and an astonishing fertility of invention. To us there seems to be still too much indelicacy in his writings, though less than heretofore, and there is a considerable amount of bear-fighting, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. This rough and cruel pastime was very common in that day. We read of bear-baiting at Kenilworth to amuse Queen Elizabeth, and Alleyn, the munificent founder of Dulwich College, was not only a dramatic author and manager, but "Master of the bears and dogs," which seems to have been a post of honour. To the present day, a ring for such sports is to be seen outside the principal gate of Battle Abbey.
We have already observed that the drama of Spain became the model for that of modern Europe, and we are not therefore surprised to find that the main design in Sir Hudibras is to produce an English Don Quixote. All the accessories of the work point to this imitation; there is a long account of his arms, his Squire, and horse. But beyond this, he aimed at several well-known rogues of his day, especially those pretending to necromancy and prophetic powers, who seem to have been numerous.[59] This gave the poem an interest at that day which it cannot have now, and it was increased by the amusing hits he makes at the Puritans, who had lately convulsed the State, and whom he had been able to gauge when he was employed by Sir Samuel Luke.[60] The lines are well known in which he speaks of the time:—
"When pulpit, drum, ecclesiastic,
Was beat with fist, instead of a stick;"
and the general outcry against dignitaries is thus represented:—
"The oyster women locked their fish up
And trudged away to cry 'No Bishop';
Botchers left old clothes in the lurch,
And fell to turn and patch the church;
Some cry'd the Covenant, instead
Of pudding, pies, and gingerbread!"
Sir Hudibras is a Presbyterian "true blue."
"Such as do build their faith upon
The holy test of pike and gun;
Decide all controversies by
Infallible artillery:
And prove their doctrine orthodox
By apostolic blows and knocks.
"Rather than fail, they will defy
That which they love most tenderly;
Quarrel with minced pies, and disparage.
Their best and dearest friend, plum porridge;
Fat pig and goose itself oppose,
And blaspheme custard through the nose."