the charge was too clearly and strongly proved, and, when Collier recriminated, our poet was prudent enough to be silent. After this he brought out but one play more, and that was "The Way of the World; which, by some, is thought to be the most finished of his dramatick pieces, though it met but with an indifferent reception on the stage. In 1710 he published a Collection of his Plays and Poems, dedicated to his patron, Lord Halifax, who, upon coming again into power at the accession of George the second, gave Mr. Congreve the sinecure place of secretary of Jamaica, worth twelve hundred a year. In the decline of life Voltaire made him a visit, and having paid him some compliments on his compositions, Congreve treated them as trifles not deserving of notice, saying, that he expected to be visited not as an author, but as a gentleman; to which Voltaire replied, that if Mr. Congreve had only been a gentleman, "he should not have thought it worth his while to call upon him." The end of Congreve's life was melancholy enough; the gout entirely ruined his constitution, and cataracts produced total blindness. He died in January, 1728-9, and was interred with great pomp in Westminster Abbey, where a monument was erected to his memory, by Henrietta Duchess of Marlborough, to whom he had bequeathed the principal part of his fortune, without any re'gard to his relations and friends. Congreve was one of the founders of the fa mous mous Kit-Kat club, and he lived upon terms of familiarity with his bookseller, Tonson, as appears from a curious dialogue, inserted in Rowe's Miscellaneous Poems, where Congreve is made thus to speak of the happy evenings he and Jacob had spent in the club:~ ""Twas there we first instructed all our youth, These lines seem to be pretty characteristick of our poet, who was devotedly attached to his bottle, and very profane in his conversation. The following letters have been copied from the originals, in the British Museum : MR. CONGREVE TO MR. PORTER, "Calais, Aug. 11th, O. S. 1700. "Here is admirable Champagne for twelve pence a quart, and as good Burgundy for fifteen pence; and yet I have virtue enough to resolve to leave this place to-morrow for St. Omer's, where the same wine is half as dear again, and may be quite not so good. Dear neighbours, Charles and Jacob,* &c. I have never failed drinking your healths since we saw you, nor ever will till we see you again. We had a long passage, but delicate weather. We set sail from Dover on Saturday morning, four o'clock, and did not land here till six the same evening; nor had we arrived even in that time, if a French open boat with oars had not been straggling towards us, when we were not quite half-seas over, and rowed us Most probably Jacob Tonson. 2E4 hither hither from thence in five hours, for the packet-boat came not till this morning. When I come to Brussels, I shall have more to write to you; till then I am most humbly and heartily your's, "W. CONGREVE." "My humble service to my neighbours, your mother, Mrs. Arne, Mr. Travers, not forgetting the Alcayde, who, I hope, in my absence, may be reconciled to punch. "Poor Charles is just writing to Mrs. A. and straining very hard to send something, besides the ballad, to please her much." To Mr. Porter, at his House in Arundel-street, against the Blue Ball, London. TO MRS. PORTER. "Rotterdam, September 27, 1700. "I LEAVE you to judge whether Holland can be said to be wanting in gallantry, when it is customary there to inclose a billet-doux to a lady in a letter to her husband. I have not so much as made mention of this to your's, and if you tell first, let the sin fall upon your head, instead of his. For my part, I keep the commandments; I love my neighbour as myself, and, to avoid coveting my neighbour's wife, I desire to be coveted by her, which you know is quite another thing. About five weeks since I wrote a very passionate letter to you from Antwerp, which, I believe, you never received, for just now it is found carefully put up by my man, who has been drunk ever since. I understand you have not been in the Country: I am glad of it; for I should very much apprehend the effects which solitude might have produced, joined with the regret which I know you feel for my absence. Take it for granted, that I sigh extremely. I would have written to the Alcayde, but that would make me reflect that I was at a distance from her, which is pain I cannot bear. I would have written to your mother, but that I have changed my religion twice since I left England, and am at present so unsettled, that that I think it fit to fix, before I endeavour to convert her to my opinion, which I design to do as soon as I know what it is. I have discoursed with friars and monks of all orders-with zealots, enthusiasts, and all sectaries of the reformed churches, and I had the benefit to travel twelve leagues together in Guelderland with a mad phanatick, in a waggon, who preached to me all the way things not to be written, Pray take care that Mr. Ebbut has good wine, for I have much to say to you over a bottle under ground; and I hope, within three weeks, to satisfy you, that no man on the face of the earth, or in the cellar, is more, dear neighbour, "Your faithful and affectionate "Humble servant, than "W. CONGREVE." SIR RICHARD STEELE. THE lovers of literature are under infinite obligations to this pleasant but eccentric writer, for having brought together that constellation of genius which so highly improved our language, taste, and morals, at the beginning of the last century. Though his own literary fame was greatly eclipsed by his splendid coadjutor Addison, still enough is left to render Steele an object of peculiar interest in the temple of our worthies. He was a native of Dublin, but in what year he was born, is not known. At an early age he became a scholar at the Charter House, and there it was he laid the foundation of that friendship with Addison, which lasted without interruption till the death of the latter. Soon after his leaving school, he rode privately in the guards, and at last obtained a pair of colours. In this situation he was exposed to great irregularity of life, and it is a striking proof of the native goodness of his heart, that though he feil frequently into temptations, he as often resolved upon reformation. For this purpose he wrote a little treatise, called "The Christian Hero," intended only for his private perusal, but finding that this was of no avail, and that he still continued to deviate from the path which he secretly wished to pursue, 1 |