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God (which I know will also be yours) that we must separate, I hope it will be better for you than it can be for me. You are fitter to live or to die than any man I know. Adieu, my dear friend, and may God preserve your life easy, or make your death happy.” “The closing wish of this letter was soon afterwards accomplished. Arbuthnot, finding his recovery hopeless, left Hampstead, and returned to his house in Cork Street, Burlington Gardens, where he died, on the 27th February, 1734-5. Of his family, one son, Charles, entered into the church, and died shortly before his father; and another, George, filled the post of secondary in the Remembrance Office under Lord Masham, a lucrative appointment. . As a wit and a scholar, the character in which he is best known to us, Arbuthnot may be justly ranked amongst the most eminent men of an age distinguished by a high cultivation of intellect, and an almost exuberant display of wit and genius. To have been an equal sharer in the reputation of such men as Swift, Pope, Addison, and Gay, were alone the highest praise, but as a satirist, and a writer of humour, Arbuthnot has been acknowledged by some of his most celebrated contemporaries to have been their superior. “ His good morals,” Pope used to say, “were equal to any man's, but his wit and humour superior to all mankind.” “He has more wit than we all have,” said Dean Swift to a lady, “ and his humanity is equal to his wit.” In addition to these brilliant qualities, the higher praise of benevolence and goodness is most deservedly due to him. His warmth of heart and cheerfulness of temper rendered him much beloved by his family and friends, towards whom he displayed the most constant affection and attachment. The character which Swift has left us of him is in the dean's best manner.-" Mr. Lewis sends me an account of Dr. Arbuthnot's illness, which is a very sensible affliction to me, who, by living out of the world, have lost that hardness of heart, contracted by years and general conversation. I am daily losing friends, and neither seeking nor getting others. O, if the world had but a dozen Arbuthnots in it, I would burn my travels! but, however, he is not without fault. There is a passage in Bede highly commending the piety and learning of the Irish in that age, where, after abundance of praises, he overthrows them all, by lamenting that, alas ! they kept Easter at a wrong time of the year. So our doctor has every quality and virtue that can make a man amiable and useful, but, alas! he hath a sort of slouch in his walk !* I pray

* This slouch in the doctor's walk is noticed in a letter from Pope to Mr. Digby, in which, after recommending Arbuthnot to Mrs. Mary God protect him, for he is an excellent Christian, though not a Catholic.” (Scott's Swift, xvii. 41.) As a politician, Arbuthnot was firmly and conscientiously attached to those high Tory principles, from the evil operation of which the country was happily rescued by the seasonable accession of the House of Hanover. The part which he acted as a courtier and a favourite was probably a more important one than can now be ascertained, and the influence which both his situation and talents thus gave him over the affairs of the country must necessarily have been very extensive. Lord Orrery's character of him is, upon the whole, so able and correct, that with it, we shall conclude this brief account of his life and writings.--" Although he was justly celebrated for wit and learning, there was an excellence in his character more amiable than all his other qualifications : I mean the goodness of his heart. He has shewed himself equal to any of his contemporaries in humour and vivacity, and he was superior to most men in acts of benevolence and humanity. His very sarcasms are the satirical strokes of good nature; they are like slaps on the face given in jest, the effects of which may raise a blush, but no blackness will appear after the blows. He laughs as jovially as an attendant upon Bacchus, but continues as sober and considerate as a disciple of Socrates. He is seldom serious, except in his attacks upon vice, and there his spirit rises with a manly strength and a noble indignation. * * * No man exceeded him in the moral duties of life, a merit still more to his honour, as the united powers of wit and genius are seldom submissive enough to confine themselves within the limitations of morality.”

ART. VII.-TEXNOTAMIA: Or, The Marriages of the Arts: A

Comedie, written by Barten Holiday, Master of Arts and Student of Christ Church in Oxford, and acted by the Students of the same house, before the Universitie at Shrovetide. London, printed by John Haviland, for Richard Meighen; and are to be sold at his shop, next the Middle Temple gate, and in St. Dunstan's church-yard, in Fleet-street, 1630. 4to.

· Barten Holiday was born about the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's reign, in the parish of All Saints, Oxford. : He was

Digby, he says : “But, indeed, I fear she would outwalk him, for, as Dean Swift observed to me the very first time I saw the doctor, He is a man that can do every thing but walk."

entered at an early age of Christ-church college, and having taken his degree of Master of Arts, was appointed archdeacon of the diocese of Oxford. He died in 1661, leaving “ behind him," says Langbaine, “ the character of a general scholar, a good preacher, a skilful philosopher, and an excellent poet.” Holiday is better known for his translations of Juvenal and Persius, illustrated with learned notes, than for his other works, which consist of sermons; Philosophiæ politico-barbara Specimen, de Anima, 1635; Orbis terrarum inspectio, 1661; and the above comedy. The drama is allegorical, the actors being, Polites, a magistrate; Physica, and Astronomia, her daughter; Ethicus, an old man; and Economa, his wife; Geographus, a traveller and courtier; and Phantastes, his servant; Geometres, Arithmetica, Logicus, and Phlegmaticus, his man; Grammaticus, a schoolmaster, and Choler, his usher; Poeta, and Melancholico, his man; Historia, Rhetorica, Musica, Medicus, and Sanguis, his man; Causidicus, Magus, and Astrologia, his wife; and Physiognomus and Cheiromantes, two gypsies—a very efficient corps of actors to edify, if not to please, the gownsmen of Oxford, and all attired in a goodly and appropriate fashion. Astronomia, for instance, is “ in an azure gown and a mantle seeded with stars ; on her head a tiara, bearing on the front the seven stars, and behind, stars promiscuously; on the right side the sun, on the left the moon, in gloves and white pumps.”—“ Geometres, in a coloured hat, ascending in a pyramidal form, with a square in it instead of a feather," &c. and so the rest. Astronomia is the brilliant heroine of the piece-the heaven to which Geographus desires to travel, of which Geometres endeavours to take the measure, and in which Poeta sighs to repose. On the other hand, Arithmetica has a more legitimate passion for Geometres, and Historia is in arms to be related to Poeta.Grammaticus, in an amorous mood, solicits Rhetorica, whose flowers bloom only for Logicus. These conflicting attachments, as might be expected, cause some confusion in the commonwealth of learning. Each of the enamoured personages endeavours to obtain the object of his affection: Geographus is assisted by the influence of Polites; Magus conjures, with all the mystery of his art, in favour of Geometres ; and Poeta woos under the auspices of the nine muses.' Polites is at length forced to interfere for the purpose of composing the unquiet members of the commonwealth Physiognomus and Cheiromantes, having picked the poet's pocket, (in which, however, the only booty is an Anacreon, and a purse, containing a translation from the Teian bard) are sentenced, the first to be branded on the face for a rogue, that every body may know him by his physiognomy; and the other in the hand, and, together with Magus and Astrologia, (who had attempted to poison Astronomia) are banished the commonwealth of the Sciences. Geographus, having discarded his servant Phantastes, is married to Astronomia; Arithmetica is united to Geometres ; Grammaticus becomes master of Rhetorica ; Melancholico obtains the hand of Musica, and receives Phantastes into his service; and Logicus, being a dry, heartless sort of fellow, is left without a mate, and becomes an assistant to Polites. And thus is harmony restored amongst the sciences. There is considerable ingenuity displayed in the invention, and many strokes of wit in the dialogue of this piece, mingled with some humorous satire on the professors of the sciences represented. Geographus, amongst many veracious relations, swears that he has heard a man speak six languages at the same instant; “ with his tongue, he'd vowel you out as smooth Italian as any man breathing; with his eye, he would sparkle forth the proud Spanish; with his nose, blow out most robustuous Dutch; the creaking of his high-heeled shoe would articulate exact Polonian; the knocking of his shin-bones feminine French; and his belly would grumble most pure and scholarlike Hungary.”

Phlegmatico is habited“ in a pale russet suit; on the back whereof was expressed one filling a pipe of tobacco; his hat beset round about with tobacco-pipes : with a can of drink hanging at his girdle.” He enters, exclaiming, “ 'Fore Jove, most meteorological tobacco ! pure Indian ! not a jot sophisticated : a tobacco-pipe is the chimney of perpetual hospitality. 'Fore Jove, most metropolitan tobacco !” and then breaks out very unphlegmatically, into the following jovial song, in praise of The Plant.

“ Tobacco's a musician,
And in a pipe delighteth ;

It descends in a close,

Through the organ of the nose,
With a relish that inviteth.

This makes me sing So, ho, ho; So, ho, ho, boys,
Ho boys, sound I loudly :

Earth ne'er did breed

Such a jovial weed
Whereof to boast so proudly.
“ Tobacco is a lawyer,
His pipes do love long cases :

When our brain it enters,

Our feet do make indentures,
Which we seal with stamping paces.

This makes me sing So, ho, &c.

Tobacco's a physician,
Good both for sound and sickly :

'Tis a hot perfume

That expels cold rheum,
And makes it flow down quickly.

This makes me sing, &c.
Tobacco is a traveller
Come from the Indies hither ;

It pass'd sea and land

Ere it came to my hand,
And ’scap'd the wind and weather.

This makes me sing, &c.
Tobacco is a critic,
That still old paper turneth ;
Whose labour and care

Is as smoke in the air,
That ascends from a rag when it burneth.

This makes me sing, &c.
Tobacco's an ignis fatuus,
A fat and fiery vapour;

That leads men about

Till the fire be out,
Consuming like a taper.

This makes me sing, &c.
Tobacco is a whiffler,
And cries huff snuff with fury;

His pipe's his club and link;

He's the visor that does drink;
Thus arm’d I fear not a jury..

This makes me sing ---So, ho, ho; So, ho, ho, boys,
Ho, boys, sound I loudly:

Earth ne'er did breed

Such a jovial weed,
Whereof to boast so proudly.”

Poeta and his man having quarrelled and fought with Grammaticus and Logicus, the former soliloquizes on their ingratitude.

“O, the serpentine ingratitude of man! that these snakes, whom I have nourished in my bosom, should now sting me! This Logicus, a base, dry-brained, kecks-witted clinch-fist, not long ago, perceiving his fortunes to be brought to a desperate precipitation, through the incomprehensible difficulty of his artless, curiosities, most fawningly


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