when there was less gallantry, and when the authors were not admitted to
the best society. The manners of their low, or Dutch school of comedy,
in which Jonson led the way, by his "Bartholomew Fair," and similar
pieces, are noticed, and censured, as unfit for a polished audience. The
characters in what may be termed genteel comedy are reviewed, and
restricted to the Truewit of Jonson's "Silent Woman," the Mercutio of
Shakespeare, and Fletcher's Don John in the "Chances." Even this last
celebrated character, he observes, is better carried on in the modern
alteration of the play, than in Fletcher's original; a singular instance
of Dryden's liberality of criticism, since the alteration of the
"Chances" was made by that very Duke of Buckingham, from whom he had
just received a bitter and personal offence. Dryden proceeds to contend,
that the living poets, from the example of a gallant king and sprightly
court, have learned, in their comedies, a tone of light discourse and
raillery, in which the solidity of English sense is blended with the air
and gaiety of their French neighbours; in short, that those who call
Jonson's the golden age of poetry, have only this reason, that the
audience were then content with acorns, because they knew not the use of
bread. In all this criticism there was much undeniable truth; but
sufficient weight was not given to the excellencies of the old school,
while their faults were ostentatiously and invidiously enumerated. It
would seem that Dryden, perhaps from the rigour of a puritanical
education, had not studied the ancient dramatic models in his youth, and
had only begun to read them with attention when it was his object rather
to depreciate than to emulate them. But the time came when he did due
homage to their genius.

Meanwhile, this avowed preference of his own period excited the
resentment of the older critics, who had looked up to the era of
Shakespeare as the golden age of poetry; and no less that of the
playwrights of his own standing, who pretended to discover that Dryden
designed to establish less the reputation of his age, than of himself
individually upon the ruined fame of the ancient poets. They complained
that, as the wild bull in the Vivarambla of Granada,

"monarch-like he ranged the listed field,
And some he trampled down, and some he kill'd."

Many, therefore, advancing, under pretence of vindicating the fame of
the ancients, gratified their spleen by attacking that of