xhibiting
character by means of dialogue he was deficient. That deficiency he
did his best to conceal, sometimes by surprising and amusing incidents,
sometimes by stately declamation, sometimes by harmonious numbers,
sometimes by ribaldry but too well suited to the taste of a profane and
licentious pit. Yet he never obtained any theatrical success equal to
that which rewarded the exertions of some men far inferior to him in
general powers. He thought himself fortunate if he cleared a hundred
guineas by a play; a scanty remuneration, yet apparently larger than he
could have earned in any other way by the same quantity of labour. [179]

The recompense which the wits of that age could obtain from the public
was so small, that they were under the necessity of eking out
their incomes by levying contributions on the great. Every rich
and goodnatured lord was pestered by authors with a mendicancy
so importunate, and a flattery so abject, as may in our time seem
incredible. The patron to whom a work was inscribed was expected to
reward the writer with a purse of gold. The fee paid for the dedication
of a book was often much larger than the sum which any publisher would
give for the copyright. Books were therefore frequently printed merely
that they might be dedicated. This traffic in praise produced the effect
which might have been expected. Adulation pushed to the verge, sometimes
of nonsense, and sometimes of impiety, was not thought to disgrace a
poet. Independence, veracity, selfrespect, were things not required
by the world from him. In truth, he was in morals something between a
pandar and a beggar.

To the other vices which degraded the literary character was added,
towards the close of the reign of Charles the Second, the most savage
intemperance of party spirit. The wits, as a class, had been impelled
by their old hatred of Puritanism to take the side of the court, and had
been found useful allies. Dryden, in particular, had done good service
to the government. His Absalom and Achitophel, the greatest satire of
modern times had amazed the town, had made its way with unprecedented
rapidity even into rural districts, and had, wherever it appeared
bitterly annoyed the Exclusionists and raised the courage of the Tories.
But we must not, in the admiration which we naturally feel for noble
diction and versification, forget the great distinctions of good and
evil. The spirit by which Dryden and several of his compeers were a