husband's respect or to conciliate his regard, but is
described as a woman of violent temper and weak understanding. Much of
the bitterness of Dryden's satire, some of the coarse licentiousness of
his plays, and all the sarcasms at matrimony which he has scattered in
multitudes, throughout his works, may be traced to his domestic
unhappiness.

Otherwise, the match had some advantages. It broke up, for a time at
least, some licentious connexions he had formed, particularly, after a
time, one with Mrs Reeves the actress, with whom, having laid aside his
Norwich drugget, he used to eat tarts at the Mulberry Gardens, "with a
sword and a Chadreux wig." It secured to him, including his own
property, an income of about L100 a-year--a sum equal to L300 now--and
which, on the death of his mother, three years later, was increased by
L20 more, or L60 at the present value of money. He was thus protected
for life against the meaner and more miserable necessities of the
literary man, under which many of his unfortunate rivals were crushed;
and if he could not always command luxuries, he was always sure of
bread.

To improve his circumstances, however, and to enable him to keep up a
style of living in unison with his lady's rank, he must write, and the
question arose, what mode of composition was likely to be the most
lucrative? Were he to continue to indite panegyrical verses, like those
to Clarendon, he stood a chance of having a few guineas tossed to him
now and then by a patron, like a crust to an unfortunate cur. Were he
to translate, or write prefaces for the booksellers, he might pay his
bill for salt, if diligent enough. For Satires as yet there was little
demand. The follies of the more fanatical of the Puritans were too
recent, although they were beginning to ripen for the hand of Butler;
and the far grosser absurdities of the Cavaliers were yet in blossom.
There remained nothing for an aspiring author but the stage, which
during the previous _regime_ had been abolished. While the French
Revolution was in progress, ay, even in the depths of the reign of
terror, the theatres were all open, and all crowded; but when Cromwell
was enacting his solemn and solitary part, before God, angels, and men,
the petty potentates--the gods and goddesses of the stage--vanished into
thin air. At his tremendous stamp their cue had been "_Exeunt omnes_"
and if the spirit of Shakspeare himself had witnessed the departure, he
would have added h