fame year he took his degree of B. A. but not having the good fortune to obtain a fellowship, he left the university and came to London, with a view of pushing his fortune at court. Not fucceeding in this defign, in 1672, he made an attempt on the ftage, in the character of Duncan in Sir William Davenant's alteration of Macbeth. "Lee," fays Colley Cibber, in his Apology, "was fo pathetic a reader of his own scenes, that I have been informed by an actor, who was prefent, that while Lee was reading to Major Mohun at a rehearsal, Mohun, in the warmth of his admiration, threw down his part, and faid, unless I were able to play it as well as you read it, to what purpofe fhould I undertake it? And yet this very author, whofe elocution raised such admiration in so capital an actor, when he attempted to be an actor himself, foon quitted the stage in an honest despair of ever making a profitable figure there." 'It would almost appear from this, that Lee's attempt on the stage had been subsequent to his appearance there in the capacity of a dramatist. But this was not the fact, for his first play was not represented till the year 1675; fo that, inftead of being tempted to make his debut as an actor, in confequence of the reputation he had acquired behind the curtain, as a pathetic reader of his own fcenes, it is reafonable to prefume, that his demerits and bad fuccefs, as a player, induced him to turn his attention to the trade of authorship. By this anecdote from Cibber, the authors of the Biographical Dictionary† have been led into the error we have juft obviated. His first play was called "Nero, Emperor of Rome ;" and between 1672, the date of its appearance, and 1684, he produced no less than nine tragedies, befides the share he had with Dryden, in Oedipus and the Duke of Guife. On the 11th of November, in the year last mentioned, it was found necessary to confine him in Bedlam, where he remained four years. It has been faid of him as a writer, that "his imagination ran away with his reafon;" a remark that is, perhaps, applicable to this melancholy incident of his life. But his infanity is more generally fupposed to have been owing to the embarraffment of his circumstances, the refult of extreme

P. 68, quarto edition, 1740. + Last edition in 15 vols. 1798.

carelessness and extravagance; a belief that receives fufficient confirmation from the following epigram, addreffed to Lee, by Wycherly, and first quoted by the ingenious Mr. Neve, in his admirable remarks on our author's poetical character.*

You, but because you starv'd, went mad before ;
Now starving does to you your wits restore :

So your life is, like others, much at one,

Whether you now have any fenfe, or none.

A repartee has been afcribed to him while in confinement, which we fhould, perhaps, be blamed for ommitting in this account. A very indifferent author obferved to him, that it was an eafy thing to write like a madman; "No," replied Lee, “it is not an eafy thing to write like a madman; but it is very easy to write like a fool."

In April 1688, he returned to fociety, but did not long furvive the recovery of his reafon. Whincop tells us, that "he died in one of his night rambles in the ftreet ;" and Oldys, in his MS. notes, records the fact rather particularly-" Returning one night from the Bear and Harrow, in Butcher Row, through Clare Market, to his lodgings in Duke Street, overladen with wine, he fell down on the ground, as fome fay, according to others, on a bulk, and was killed or ftifled in the fnow." From the fame authority, we learn that "he was buried in the parish church of St. Clement's Danes, aged about thirty-five years.” Between the time of his discharge from Bedlam and that of his death, he wrote two plays, the Princess of Cleves, and the Masfacre of Paris; but, notwithstanding the profits arifing from these two performances, he was reduced, it is faid, to fo low an ebb, that a weekly ftipend of ten fhillings from the theatre royal was his chief dependence. It has been obferved, that his untimely end might have been occafioned by his diforder, of which he was fubject to temporary relapses; and in tenderness to his memory, we are inclined to indulge the fuppofition. This accident occurred about the years 1691-2.

There is a striking coincidence between the fate of Lee and Otway, which, we believe, has not before been noticed. They

• Published in the Monthly Mirror.

both became writers for the stage, in consequence of their unsuccessful performances on it; both began to write in rhyme, and deferted it, much to the advantage of their reputation, for blank verfe; both were reduced, principally by their own diffipations, to a miserable condition of indigence; and both died, at almost precisely the fame age, and within about five years of each other, in a state of the utmost obscurity and wretchedness.

The talents of Nathaniel Lee have met with the most elegant, candid, and critical illuftration, in the article already alluded to, by Mr. Neve, to which the reader is referred. It has been too much the fashion, with writers of more tafte, perhaps, but of infinitely lefs genius, to decry the reputation of this author, who has been styled, with reference to his Alexander the Great, "a mad poet, who described, in frantic verse, the actions of a mad warrior;" but Addison maintains, that “among our modern English poets, there was none better turned for tragedy than Lee, if, inftead of favouring his impetuofity of genius, he had restrained it within proper bounds." Dryden compliments him highly upon his Rival Queens, in his copy of verfes prefixed to that play.

Such praise is yours, while you the paffions move,
That 'tis no longer feign'd, 'tis real love,
Where nature triumphs over wretched art;
We only warm the head, but you the heart.
Always you warm; and if the rifing year,
As in hot regions, bring the fun too near,
'Tis but to make your fragrant spices blow,
Which in our colder climates will not grow.
That humble style which drones their virtue make,
Is in your power, you need but stoop and take.
Your beauteous images must be allow'd
By all but fome vile poets of the crowd:
But how should any fign-post dauber know
The worth of Titian or of Angelo ?

Cibber has cenfured, very freely, the well-known speech, in the Rival Queens, beginning "Can you remember," &c. which he calls "a blazing rant," and " furious fuftian," "a rhapsody of vain-glory," and "a flight of the falfe fublime;" but Dr.

Warburton avers that they contain not only the most fublime, but the most judicious imagery that poetry can conceive.

We shall conclude this feetch with an enumeration of his plays, which were published in the following order.

1. Nero, Emperor of Rome. 1675.

2. Sophinifba, or Hannibal's Overthrow. 1676. The prologue by Dryden.

3. Gloriana, or the Court of Auguftus Cafar. 1676.

4. The Rival Queens; or, The Death of Alexander the Great. 1677.

5. Mithridates, King of Pontus. 1678. The Epilogue by Dryden.

6. Theodofius; or The Force of Love. 1680.

7. Cafar Borgia. 1680. The prologue by Dryden.

8. Lucius Junius Brutus. 1681. Forbidden, fays Gildon, after the third performance, by Lord Chamberlain Arlington, as an anti-monarchical play.

9. Conftantine the Great, 1684. The prologue by Otway, who died in 1685. The epilogue by Dryden.

10. The Princess of Cleves. T. 1689. Prologue by Dryden. 11. The Maffacre of Paris. 1690.

Befides the 2d, 4th, and 5th acts of Oedipus, 1679, and the 2d, 3d, half the 5th, and all but the 1ft fcene of The Duke of Guife.

SIR,

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MONTHLY ANTHOLOGY.

BY inserting these borrowed articles in your ANTHOLOGY, you will gratify myself, and, I prefume, many others.

EOLIAN HARP.

C.

As nothing can be deemed natural, but what proceeds from

S the actual principles of nature, we may fafely pronounce the EOLIAN LYRE to be the only natural inftrument of emitting harmony. Other inftruments, fending forth founds by the affiftance of the fingers, or by fome other mechanical means, are con

Sometimes more loud, and now yet louder ftill;
Sometimes more distant, and again more near ;
Waking foft echoes, and with magic skill,
Swelling the eye with a luxurious tear.
Delightful flutterings! hov'ring mid the sky,
Mildly reluctant, on wild pinions borne
To realms of Sylphs, that on your murmurs fly,
And, wak'd to melancholy feelings, mourn.
Sweet, penfive melody! etherial ftrain,
Ah! ftill afpire to footh each rifing pain.

"I TOUCH the hand of the perfon next me," fays Werter, "I feel it is made of wood."-Alas! how often in the commerce of the world does one find this hand of wood! and how often in the courtefies of life!-Offer your hand to Candidus; and he holds out one finger. Offer it to Clericus; he perhaps coldly gives you two. Prætor gives you his whole hand; but it is wood-wood indeed. While Benevolus with his hand at once meets yours.--There is heart and foul in the compreffion; there is friendship in the very touch!

SINCE money has become the fign of our wants, and their exchange, every thing muft neceffarily be fold and purchased. The general, the officer and the foldier fell their limbs and lives; and what are taxes, excife and duties, but the wages of our gov. ernors -Why then fhould an author be afhamed to fell his works? Why should it be thought, that fame fhould be the only falary of a writer? Why fhould an author be ashamed to fell his discoveries, or to fet a price upon his own ideas? And why fhould a people collectively receive, gratis, leffons and advice, for which they must pay a price as individuals?

I HAVE a friend, who is an ingenious man, a good christian, and a private foldier. I attended him one evening to chapel. The preacher was no Cicero ; and I asked him what he thought of his fentences. He replied; "in liftening to the truths of religion, I never feel inclined to halt with criticism.”