ay charmed
with the melody of his verses. It was impossible Mr. Dryden could be
so blind to our author's beauties; accordingly we find him introducing
Spencer and Fairfax almost on the level, as the leading authors of
their times; nay tacitly yielding the palm in point of harmony to the
last; by asserting that Waller confessed he owed the music of his
numbers to Fairfax's Godfrey of Bulloign. The truth is, this gentleman
is perhaps the only writer down to Sir William Davenant, who needs no
apology to be made for him, on account of the age in which he lived.
His diction is so pure, elegant, and full of graces, and the turn of
his lines so perfectly melodious, that one cannot read it without
rapture; and we can scarcely imagine the original Italian has greatly
the advantage in either, nor is it very probable that while Fairfax
can be read, any author will attempt a new translation of Tasso with
success. Mr. Fairfax was natural son of Sir Thomas Fairfax of Denton,
and natural brother to Sir Thomas Fairfax, the first who was created
Baron of Cameron. His younger brother was knighted, and slain at the
memorable siege of Ostend, 1601, of which place he was some
time governor[1]. When he married is not on record, or in what
circumstances he lived: But it is very probable, his father took care
to support him in a manner suitable to his own quality, and his son's
extraordinary merit, he being always stiled Edward Fairfax, Esq; of
Newhall in Fuystone, in the forest of Knaresborough. The year in which
he died is likewise uncertain, and the last account we hear of him is,
that he was living in 1631, which shews, that he was then pretty well
advanced in years, and as I suppose gave occasion to the many mistakes
that have been made as to the time of his writing. Besides the
translation of Godfrey of Bulloigne, Mr. Fairfax wrote the history of
Edward the Black Prince, and certain eclogues, which Mrs. Cooper tells
us are yet in manuscript, tho' (says she) "by the indulgence of the
family, from whom I had likewise the honour of these memoirs, I am
permitted to oblige the world with a specimen of their beauties." He
wrote also a book called, Daemonologie, in which he shews a great
deal of ancient reading and knowledge; it is still in manuscript,
and in the beginning he gives this character of himself[2]. "I am in
religion neither a fantastic Puritan, nor superstitious Papist, but so
settled in conscience, that I have the sure ground of Go