den's Satires we have already spoken in a general way. "Absalom
and Achitophel" is of course the masterpiece, and cannot be too highly
praised as a gallery of portraits, and for the daring force and felicity
of its style. Why enlarge on a poem, almost every line of which has
become a proverb? "The Medal" is inferior only in condensation--in
spirit and energy it is quite equal. In "MacFlecknoe," the mock-heroic
is sustained with unparalleled vigour from the first line to the last.
Shadwell is a favourite of Dryden's ire. He _fancies_ him, and loves to
empty out on his head all the riches of his wrath. What can be more
terrible than the words occurring in the second part of "Absalom and
Achitophel"--

"When wine hath given him courage to blaspheme,
He curses God--but _God before curst him_!"

He has written two pieces, which may be called didactic or controversial
poems--"Religio Laici" and "The Hind and Panther." The chief power of
the former is in its admirable combination of two things, often
dissociated--reason and rhyme; and its chief interest lies in the light
it casts upon Dryden's uncertainty of religious view. The thought has
little originality, the versification less varied music than is his
wont, and no passage of transcendent power occurs. Far more faulty in
plan, and far more unequal, is "The Hind and Panther;" but it has, on
the other hand, many passages of amazing eloquence--some satirical
pictures equal to anything in "Absalom and Achitophel"--some vivid
natural descriptions; and even the absurdities of the fable, and the
sophistries of the argument add to its character as the most exquisitely
perverted piece of ingenuity in the language. Nothing but high genius,
very vigorously exerted, could reconcile us to a story so monstrous, and
to reasoning so palpably one-sided and weak.

His Epistles are of divers merit, but all discover Dryden's usual sense,
sarcastic observation, and sweeping force of style. The best are that to
Sir Godfrey Kneller--remarkable for its knowledge of, and graceful
tribute to, the "serene and silent art" of painting; and the very noble
epistle addressed to Congreve, which reminds you of one giant hand of
genius held out to welcome and embrace another. Gross flatterer as
Dryden often was, there is something in this epistle that rings true,
and the emotion in it you feel even all his powers could never have
enabled him to counterfeit. Such generous patronage of rising, by
ackno