TO THE

MARQUIS OF HALIFAX. *

MY LORD,

THIS

HIS poem was the last piece of service which I had the honour to do for my gracious master King Charles II.; and, though he lived not to see the performance of it on the stage, yet the Prologue to it, which was the opera of " Albion and Albanius," was often practised before him at Whitehall, and

* We have often occasion, in these notes, to mention the Marquis of Halifax. He was originally Sir George Saville, Baronet; but, being early characterized by unmatched dexterity in political intrigue, he successively attained the rank of Viscount, Earl, and, in 1682, Marquis of Halifax. He acted alternately for the people against the Crown, and for the Crown against the people; for he delighted in nice and delicate strokes of policy, and in balancing, by a slight but well-applied exertion, the sinking against the rising faction. Hence he was accounted the head of the little faction called Trimmers; and hence his counsels became particularly acceptable to Charles II., whose administration he guided, as Lord Privy Seal, during the last years of that monarch's life. The king had no mind that the high-flying VOL. VIII.

H

encouraged by his royal approbation. It was indeed a time which was proper for triumph, when he had overcome all those difficulties which, for some years, had perplexed his peaceful reign: but,

tories should attain an absolute predominance; for he feared his brother, who had placed himself at their head, and he loved Monmouth, who was the object of their most violent hatred. Still less could he be supposed to favour the whigs, whose ranks contained many determined republicans. A minister, therefore, whose ingenious and versatile councils could enable him to check the triumph of the tories, without too much encouraging the whigs, was a treasure to him,-and just such a minister was Halifax. Our author therefore dedicates to him, with great propriety, a piece written for Charles, when Halifax was his favourite minister; and the subjects of eulogium are chosen with Dryden's usual felicity. Some allowance must doubtless be made, for the indispensable obligation which compelled a dedicator to view the conduct of his patron on the favourable side. Such an unfortunate wight cannot be reasonably tied down to uniformity of sentiment in different addresses. The character of Dryden's immediate patron was always his cue for praise: if he stood forward against a predominant party, he was necessarily Cato, the most virtuous of men; if he yielded to the torrent, he was Phocion or Cicero, and Cato was a fool to him. With the few grains of allowance which his situation required, Dryden's praise of Halifax is an honest panegyric. It is certain, his wisdom prevented a civil war in the last years of the reign of Charles, and indirectly led the way to a bloodless revolution. The age in which he lived was therefore so far indebted to him, as our author has elegantly said, for the lives of husbands and of children, for property unviolated, and wealth undiminished. Nor does the present owe him less; for, when is it that a government, erected by a party successful in civil dissension, does not far exceed their just, and even their original pretensions? The parties had each founded their plea and their pretensions upon sacred and integral parts of the constitution, as the contending factions of the Jews occupied, the one the temple, and the other the palace of Jerusalem. In a civil war, one bulwark or other must have fallen with the party which it sheltered; and it was only the Revolution of 1688, which, leaving both whig and tory in full strength, compelled them mutually to respect the constitutional vantage-ground assumed by each other.

when he had just restored his people to their senses, and made the latter end of his government of a piece with the happy beginning of it, he was on the sudden snatched away from the blessings and acclamations of his subjects, who arrived so late to the knowledge of him, that they had but just time enough to desire him longer, before they were to part with him for ever. Peace be with the ashes of so good a king! Let his human frailties be forgotten, and his clemency and moderation (the inherent virtues of his family) be remembered with a grateful veneration by three kingdoms, through which he spread the blessings of them. And, as your lordship held a principal place in his esteem, and, perhaps, the first in his affection, during his latter troubles, the success which accompanied those prudent counsels cannot but reflect an honour on those few who managed them, and wrought out, by their faithfulness and diligence, the public safety. I might dilate on the difficulties which attended that undertaking, the temper of the people, the power, arts, and interest of the contrary party, but those are all of them invidious topics,-they are too green in our remembrance, and he, who touches on them, Incedit per ignes suppositos cineri doloso. But, without reproaching one side to praise another, I may justly recommend to both those wholesome counsels, which, wisely administered, and as well executed, were the means of preventing a civil war, and of extinguishing a growing fire which was just ready to have broken forth among us. So many wives who have yet their husbands in their arms; so many parents, who have not the number of their children lessened; so many villages, towns, and cities, whose inhabitants are not decreased, their property violated, or their wealth diminished,—are yet owing to the sober conduct, and happy results of

your advice. If a true account may be expected by future ages from the present, your lordship will be delivered over to posterity in a fairer character than I have given; and be read, not in the preface of a play, (whose author is not vain enough to promise immortality to others, or to hope it for himself,) but in many pages of a chronicle, filled with praises of your administration. For, if writers be just to the memory of King Charles II., they cannot deny him to have been an exact knower of mankind, and a perfect distinguisher of their talents. It is true, his necessities often forced him to vary his counsellors and councils, and sometimes to employ such persons in the management of his affairs, who were rather fit for his present purpose than satisfactory to his judgment: but where it was choice in him, not compulsion, he was master of too much good sense to delight in heavy conversation; and whatever his favourites of state might be, yet those of his affection were men of wit. * He was easy with these, and complied only with the

* Lord Halifax was unquestionably a man of wit; and we have some tolerable bon mots of his, handed down by his contemporaries. Burnet says, "The liveliness of his imagination was always too hard for his judgment. A severe jest was preferred by him to all arguments whatever; and he was endless in consultations; for when, after much discourse, a point was settled, if he could find a new jest to make even that which was suggested by himself ridiculous, he could not hold, but would study to raise the credit of his wit, though it made others call his judgment in question." We may not, perhaps, refine too far in supposing, that the bishop was not always able to estimate the policy of this subtle statesman. It was more frequently his wish to avoid taking decisive steps than to recommend them; and what could more effectually retard violent councils than the conduct remarked by Burnet, or what argument would have weighed with Charles II. like a keen jest?

former. But in the latter part of his life, which certainly required to be most cautiously managed, his secret thoughts were communicated but to few, and those selected of that sort who were amici omnium horarum, able to advise him in a serious consult, where his honour and safety were concerned, and afterwards capable of entertaining him with pleasant discourse, as well as profitable. In this maturest part of his age, when he had been long seasoned with difficulties and dangers, and was grown to a niceness in his choice, as being satisfied how few could be trusted, and, of those who could be trusted, how few could serve him,-he confined himself to a small number of bosom friends, amongst whom the world is much mistaken if your lordship was not first.

If the rewards which you received for those services were only honours, it rather showed the necessities of the times, than any want of kindness in your royal master; and, as the splendour of your fortune stood not in need of being supported by the Crown, so likewise, in being satisfied without other recompence, you showed yourself to be above a mercenary interest, and strengthened that power which bestowed those titles on you; which, truly speaking, were marks of acknowledgment more than fa

vour.

There

But, as a skilful pilot will not be tempted out to sea in suspected weather, so have you wisely chosen to withdraw yourself from public business, when the face of heaven grew troubled, and the frequent shifting of the winds foreshowed a storm. are times and seasons when the best patriots are willing to withdraw their hands from the commonwealth, as Phocion, in his latter days, was observed to decline the management of affairs; or as Cicero (to draw