quest by Messrs Cavendish and Gilpin, both of whom, it is remarkable, died before it was completed. It was of wood. But the first time it was sent to the depth of 300 fathoms, the wood swelled, opened, and became leaky, and the plate-glass illuminators rent, through the middle, whereby it was rendered useless. I therefore made a model of a similar instrument, and got it cast in brass. It was well finished, and was a beautiful apparatus: it was provided with Six's thermometer, and the valves of the original instrument. I cannot say whether the failure of the experiment, or the loss of the instrument, gave me the most concern. The line which broke was the thickest, and apparently the strongest of the whole series in use. small portion, however, scarcely two inches in length, proved to have been injured by accidental moisture, and was rotten. Had it been as good as it appeared, it would have supported thrice the weight. The strain on the line certainly exceeded what I had calculated. The rope being thoroughly wetted, became nearly half as heavy in water as it was before in air. Thus terminates my experiments on the temperature of the sea at great depth. A I fear I shall have wearied you with this elaborate account of my mishap. On account of the singular openness of the Greenland seas, I have twice (during my last voyage) penetrated to the longitude of 10 W. when the weather was foggy, and once to 10 W. when the weather was clear; on which last occasion (July 29-30) the coast of West Greenland, rarely before seen by any British Navigator, was in sight. According to our best, and indeed only authorities, the Dutch, the east coast of W. Greenland is laid down in longitude 4° or 5° W. from Greenwich, in the latitude of 75° to 76°; its situation, by the Dutch, is very erroneous. had good sight of the chronometer in 510, 74, and 9° 33 W. immediately previous to each of the occasions in which we penetrated so far as 10° and 1010 W. Hence I am assured, that the land lies further to the westward than 11° W. in each parallel of latitude between 74° and 76° N. It is probably as far west as 14-15° in the parallel of 74°, which I saw it. The ice in this situation was mostly mudly, and black with dirt on the edges, I as it had recently rubbed against the shore, We were sixteen days navigating between the meridians of 50° and 10° W. without even being able to see four miles for fog; and frequently the mist was so thick for forty-eight hours together, that we could not see objects at the distance of a hundred yards. At these times, when we had light winds, we sometimes groped as it were through the ice for a few hours in the day, but generally moved in the evening, and in fresh winds. It was in longitude 4° 44 W. that I lost my marine diver and apparatus.-I am, my dear sir, your most obedient servant, WM SCORESBY, jun. ANALYTICAL ESSAYS ON THE EARLY ENGLISH DRAMATISTS. No II. Edward II-MARLOW.* [We have been promised, by a gentleman distinguished for his knowledge of old English Literature, a series of Essays on the early Dramatists. The first essay of the series (on the "Faustus" of Marlow) appeared in the fourth Number of this Magazine, and they will be regularly continued in this publication.] THIS, we think, is decidedly the best of all Marlow's plays, and is entitled to rank with the finest historical Christopher Marlow was born in the reign educated at Bennet College, Cambridge, of Edward VI., and, according to Oldys, where he took the degree of Master of Arts in 1587. His parentage is unknown, and also the reasons which induced him to leave the University-to abandon the destination for which he seems, from the nature of his education, to have been intended-and to try his fortune on the stage. Langbaine says, generally, that "he trod the stage with applause;" but it does not appear that he was greatly distinguished as an actor. Few men have received such lofty encomi. ums from contemporary Wits; and high as his poetical powers unquestionably were, they seem to have been somewhat over-rated. Ben Jonson, in his lines to the memory of Shakespeare, speaks of Marlow's "mighty line," an expression which Schlegel, the celebrated German critic, thinks altogether unapplicable. Ben Jonson held rather singular critical opinions on many subjects; and certainly the epithet " mighty" cannot, with peculiar propriety, be applied to the character either of his thought or ex 66 dramas in our language. In "Faustus" there undoubtedly are many splendid passages,-not a few distinguished for grace, elegance, and beau 66 pression. But Schlegel seems to have a very slight acquaintance with Marlow's writings, and is not aware of that energy and depth of passion to be found in his Dramas. Mr Gifford, in his admirable edition of Ben Jonson, alluding to this expression, says," Marlow has many lines which have not hitherto been surpassed. His two parts of Tamburlaine, though simple in plot, and naked in artifice, have yet some rude attempts at consistency of character, and many passages of masculine vigour and lofty poetry. Even the bombastic lines which Shakspeare puts into the mouth of Pistol are followed by others in the same scene, and even in the same speech, which the great Poet himself might have fathered without disgrace to his superior powers." -Heywood calls him the best of Poets;" and Meres, in his second part of "Wits' Commonwealth," names him with Sidney, Spenser, Shakspeare, Daniel, and others, for haveing mightily enriched, and gorgeously invested, in rare ornaments and resplendent habiliments, the English tongue. Carew, the Cornish antiquary, in his Excellencies of the English Tongue," also places him along with Shakspeare ;"Would you read Catullus? take Shakspeare's and Marlow's fragments." Here he probably alludes to Marlow's translations of Ovid's Epistles, and to that most beautiful and romantic pastoral ballad, "The passionate Shepherd to his Love," which, with Sir Walter Raleigh's admirable reply, may be seen in "Walton's Complete Angler." It is stated by Steevens, in the first volume of his Shakspeare, (p. 94) that Marlow's translations from Ovid were commanded, by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London, to be burned at Stationers' Hall. This fact is also stated in the Censura Literaria of Sir Egerton Brydges, who says, that the translations were strongly tainted with the licentious obscenity of the original; but he quotes a passage almost free from that charge. Indeed it may here be remarked, that Marlow's plays give less offence on that score than the works of any of his contemporaries, or even of his great successors. He seems at all times to have been hated by the Clergy. Bishop Tanner, in his " Bibliotheca Britannico-Hibernica," acknowledges his great poetical genius, calling him "Poeta paucis inferior;" but he adds, Atheista et Blasphemus horrendus." Tanner, however, borrows every thing from Wood, and Wood seems not only to have disliked Marlow, but is a most prejudiced person against all the poetical tribe, and is fond of repeating a favourite opinion, that all poets are nien of licentious lives and dangerous here ty,-and some invested with a dark and gloomy magnificence. That drama also exhibits a powerful dominion over the passions, and no limited in sies. In his " Censure of Poets," Drayton pays Marlow this fine compliment :— Next Marlow, bathed in the Thespian Springs, Had on him those brave sublunary things That your first poets had; his raptures were All air and fire, which made his verses clear. For that fine madness still he did retain, Which rightly should possess a Poet's brain." George Peele, in "The Honour of the Garter," says, that he was "Fit to write passions for the souls below, If any wretched souls in passion speak.” Nash, speaking of Hero and Leander, says, "Of whom divine Musæus sung, and a diviner muse than he, Kit Marlow." In this he alludes to Marlow's translation of Hero and Leander, which, with a translation of the first book of Lucan, was published in quarto in 1600, though it must also have been published before that year. For of all the panegyrists of Marlow, the most extravagant and hyperbolical is Henry Petowe, who, in 1598, published the second part of Hero and Leander. He says "What mortal soul with Marlow might contend? Whose silver-charming tongue moved such delight, That men would shun their sleep in still dark night To meditate upon his golden lines! * But Marlow, still-admired Marlow's gone There ever live the Prince of Poetry," &c. To dwell with beauty in Elysium! Poor Marlow's death was most unfortunate, and such as gave his enemies an opportunity of abusing, and most probably of calumniating, his memory. The following is Anthony Wood's curious account of the dramatist's wretched end. "This Marlow, giving too large a swing to his own wit, and suffering his lust to have the full reins, fell to that outrage and extremity (as Jodelle, a French tragic poet did), being an Epicure and an Atheist, that he denied God and his Son Christ; and not only in word blasphemed the Trinity, but also, as it was credibly reported, wrote diverse discourses against it, affirming our Saviour to be a Deceiver, and Moses to be a Conjuror, (honest Anthony himself was no conjuror, as Dr Berkenhout well remarks in his Historia Literaria)—the Holy Bible also to contain only vain and idle stories, and all religion but a device of policy. But see the end of this person, which was noted by all, especially the Precisians. For, so it fell out, that he being deeply in love with a sight into those glimmering regions of the soul inhabited by phantoms. But it is a composition in which the Poet has dispensed with all the best certain woman, had for his rival a bawdy serving-man, one rather fit to be a pimp than an ingenious amoretto, as Marlow conceived himself to be. Whereupon Marlow, taking it to be a high affront, rushed in upon him to stab him with his dagger. But the serving-man being very quick, so avoided the stroke, that withal catching hold of Marlow's wrist, he stabbed his own dagger into his own head, in such sort, that notwithstanding all the means of surgery that could be brought, he shortly after died of his wound, before the year 1593." Dr Berkenhout is pleased to call this a ridiculous story, by which, we presume, he means to discredit it. But Marlow's tragical death is mentioned by many contemporary writers. The author of the "Return from Parnassus" says, "Marlow was happy in his buskin'd muse, Alas! unhappy in his life and end." And George Peele, already quoted (Hon our of the Garter), says, 66 Unhappy in thy end! Marlow! the Muses' darling for thy verse.' 99 Berkenhout disbelieves the story altogether, because, he says, that Anthony Wood has borrowed it from a foolish book, "Beard's Theatre of God's Judgment." But this is a mistake; for Anthony only quotes Beard as his authority for asserting that Marlow wrote against the Trinity and the Divinity of our Saviour. That miserable man, Robert Green, in his " Groatsworth of Wit bought with a Million of Repentance," seems to allude to Marlow when he says "Wonder not, for with thee will I first begin, thou famous gracer of tragedians, that Green, (who hath said, with thee, like the fool in his heart, there is no God) -why should thy excellent wit, His gift, be so blinded, that thou shouldst give no glory to the Giver? Thy brother in this diabolical atheism is dead, and in his life had never the felicity he aimed at; but, as he begun in craft, lived in fear, and ended in despair; and wilt thou, my friend, be his disciple? Look unto me, by him persuaded into that subtlety, and thou shalt find it an infernal bondage."-This language of Green must, however, be taken with great allowance, for it is spoken almost on his death-bed, and with a sorely-troubled conscience. And though all this may be true, as it respects himself, it is not fair to convict Marlow on the evidence of a dying Sinner. It is known that Marlow was grievously offended at the publication of this passage, which is not likely to have been the case had he been the open and avowed atheist there represented. Warton says, "that his scepticism, whatever it might rules of the dramatic art, and in which he often seems to have had pleasure in violating the principles of ordinary language. The whole strain of the sentiment, the feeling, and the passion, though not absolutely out of nature, is at all times on its very verge; the tragical interest does not force itself upon us, but requires almost to be won by a mental effort; and to support our sympathies there must be a perpetual play of the Imagination. The present drama, though it perhaps contains less poetry, is written with more uniform propriety; and the mind is never startled by the sudden introduction of vulgarity and meanness among the more stately and dignified passions and personages of Tragedy. The subject, too, is a fine one: the griefs and miseries of the greatthe dethronement and death of majesruinous decay of pride glorying in the ty;-sin in high places-swift and weakness of earthly pomp ;-vice, folly, guilt, and retribution. The tide of human affairs keeps constantly flowing on before us, till it carries down into death and oblivion, the robes, and the diadem, and the person of anointed royalty. A crowd of impassioned beings, all toiling for the things turbed by passions that bear so fearful of this world, and all agitated and disa disproportion to the objects that awaken them, are kept constantly passing to and fro; and the catastrophe leaves the mind in that state of sub be, was construed by the prejudiced and peevish Puritans into absolute atheism." Most assuredly the charge is vague and indefinite; and probably Mr Lamb has taken a right view of this subject, when he says, that "he loved to dally with interdicted subjects, and busied himself with speculations which are the rottenest part of the fruit that fell from the Tree of Knowledge." As to the morality or immorality of his character, we are almost entirely in the dark. Doubtless he met with a tragical death under suspicious circumstances. But the nature of that quarrel is by no means certain; for in Vaughan's" Golden Grove," which preceded "Beard's Theatre of God's Judgments," Marlow's antagonist is called Ingram; and Aubry says that he was Ben Jonson-a most flagrant falsehood. But all this shows, that little is known about the matter. At the worst, his fate by no means proves him to have been a bad man, and it is to his honour, that his sentiments are pure, and his principles lofty, in all his dramatic writings. lime acquiescence, with which, in real life, we behold the visitations of Providence. The play opens with a soliloquy of Gaveston, newly returned from France, and elated with the favour of the King. There ensues a short conversation between him and three poor travellers, in which is very shortly and vividly exhibited all the vile insolence of upstart pride and polluted worthlessness. We are thus, at the very commencement, and without any laborious description, made acquainted with the character of the Favourite. He then breaks out into the following exclamation, which has been often admired for its poetical beauties, and which, as Hurd observes in his Dialogues, gives a fine picture of the entertainments of the times. It also shows the accomplishments of the Man who was to be the ruin of his King. "I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits, Musicians, that with touching of a string, May draw the pliant King which way I please. Music and poetry are his delight; Therefore I'll have Italian plays by night, Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows: And in the day, when he shall walk abroad, Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad; My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, Shall, with their goat-feet, dance the antic hay. Sometimes a lovely boy, in Dian's shape, With hair that gilds the water as it glides, Crownets of pearl about his naked arms, And in his sportful hands an olive-tree, Shall bathe him in a spring; and then, hard by, Cne like Acteon peeping through the grove, Shall by the angry goddess be transform'd, And, running in the likeness of a hart, By yelping hounds pull'd down, shall seem to die. Such things as these best please his Majesty." The scenes that follow are of very considerable merit, exhibiting the deplorable weakness, the infatuated fondness, and the regal obstinacy, of Edward, the fawning servility, the greedy and aspiring insolence, of the Favourite, and the high-spirited indignation, the towering pride, and the unawed ferocity, of the Nobles. character of young Mortimer is sketched with great animation; and his language and deportment are distinguished from those of the other Barons by a bolder contempt of the royal presence, arising from an ambition that has a loftier aim-no less than The the regency of the kingdom and the person of the Queen. Indeed it is impossible to read this play without feeling that Shakspeare was indebted to Marlow for the original idea of Hotspur. Edward is now forced by his Nobles, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, who threatens him with the wrath of the See of Rome, to subscribe to the exile of Gaveston; and that our pity and contempt for him may be carried to the utmost, Marlow describes the agony of mind endured at parting from his Minion, which, however, finally vents itself in an imprecation of some energy. "Why should a King be subject to a Priest? Proud Rome! that holdest such imperial grooms, For these thy superstitious taper-lights Wherewith thy Antichristian churches blaze, I'll fire thy crazed buildings, and enforce Thy papal Towers to kiss the lowly ground! With slaughter'd Priests may Tiber's channel swell, And banks rise higher with their sepulchres !" The Queen is here introduced; and we think that her character and conduct are drawn with great skill and power. At first, she is truly and overlooks his follies and extravaganfaithfully attached to her Husbandcies-pardons his neglect and his insults and endeavours, by humble submission or gentle remonstrance, to win him back to his former affection. Her grief is unmingled with indignation; and her feelings towards Mortimer do not exceed those of dignified gratitude. But at last, with the extinction of her love, there ensues the loss of honour and humanity; and having burst the bonds which united her to her worthless Husband, she delivers herself up, wholly and without reserve, to the love of Mortimer, and becomes an associate in all his guilty ambition; and finally, is privy to the Her murder of the miserable King. grief for the loss of Edward's affection is thus beautifully expressed: "O miserable and distressed Queen! Would, when I left sweet France, and was embarked, That charming Circe, walking on the waves, Had changed my shape, or at the marriageday The cup of Hymen had been full of poison; Or with those arms that twined about my neck, I had been stifled, and not lived to see The King my lord thus to abandon me !" Gaveston, who had been expelled the kingdom, is recalled-the nobles and the Queen intending to have him cut off. Edward, with blind infatuation, pursues the same system of ruinous favouritism; and the nobles are on the eve of rebellion. Young Mortimer thus speaks to his uncle: "Uncle! his wanton humour grieves not me: As if that Proteus, God of Shapes, appeared. The same fiery spirit forces himself, with Lancaster, into the presence of the King, and this parley en houses burnt, Their wives and children slain, run up and down, Cursing the name of thee and Gaveston. Mort. When wert thou in the field with banner spread? But once and then thy soldiers march'd like players, With garish robes, not armour; and thyself, Bedaubed with gold, rode laughing at the rest, Nodding and shaking of thy spangled crest, Where women's favours hung like labels down. Lan. And therefore came it, that the fleering Scots, To England's high disgrace, have made this Maids of England, sore may you mourn jig; For your lemmons you have lost at Bannockburn," &c. At length Gaveston is beheaded by the Earl of Warwick, and war declared between the King and the Nobles. Edward, who has hitherto been an obdeems himself to a certain degree in ject of pity and contempt alone, rethis emergency, by the exhibition of a warlike spirit, and "shews, that in his eyes is set some spark of the Plantagenet." "Edw. By Earth! the common Mother of us all! And all the honours 'longing to my crown! I will have heads and lives for him, as many As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers. Treacherous Warwick! traiterous Mortimer! If I be England's King-in lakes of gore Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail, That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood, And stain my Royal Standard with the same, That so my bloody colours may suggest Remembrance of Revenge immortally." The place of Gaveston has been supplied by Spenser, who, along with his father, support the cause of the King. This Spenser had formerly drawn his own character thus, in a conversation with his friend Baldock. "Spen. Then, Baldock! you must cast the scholar off, And learn to court it like a gentleman. D |