From this time, almost all we have of his life is comprized in a list of his various publications, which were chiefly translations from the French, or imitations of the writers of that nation. In 1663, he published Mons. de Vaix's Moral Philosophy of the Stoics, in compliance, sir John Hawkins thinks, with the will of his father, who was accustomed to give him themes and authors for the exercise of his judgment and learning. In 1665, be translated the Horace of Corneille for the amusement of his sister, who, in 1670, consented that it should be printed. In this attempt he suffered little by being preceded by sir William Lower, and followed by Mrs. Catherine Phillips. In 1670, he published a translation of the Life of the Duke of d'Espernon; and about the same time, bis affairs being much embarrassed, he obtained a captain's commission in the army, and went over to Ireland. Some adventures he met witli on this occasion gave rise to his first burlesque poem, entitled A Voyage to Ireland, in three cantos. Of bis more serious progress in the army, or when, or why he left it, we have no account. In 1674, be published the translation of the Fair One of Tunis, a French novel; and of the Commentaries of Blaise de Montluc, marshal of France: and in 1675, The Planter's Manual, being instructions for cultivating all sorts of fruit trees. In 1678 appeared his most celebrated burlesque performance, entitled “Scarronides, or Virgil Travestie: a Mock Poem, on the First and Fourth Books of Virgil's Æneis, in English Burlesque.” To this was afterwards added, “Burlesque upon Burlesque, or the Scoffer scoffed : being some of Lucian's Dialogues newly put into English fustian.” In 1681, he published The Wonders of the Peak, an original poem; which, however, proved that he had not much talent for the descriptive branch of poetry. His next employment was a translation of Montaigne's Essays, which was bighly praised by the marquis of Halifax, and has often been reprinted, as conveying the spirit and sense of the original with great felicity. His style certainly approaches very closely to the antiquated gossip of that " old prater.” The only remaining production of our author is connected with his private history. One of his favourite recreations was angling, which led to an intimacy between him and honest Isaac Walton, whom he called his father. His house was situated on the banks of the Dove, a fine trout stream, which divides the counties of Derby and Stafford. Here he built a little fishing house dedicated to anglers, piscutoribus saerum, over the door of which the initials of the names of Cotton and Walton were united in a cypher. The interior of this house was a cube of about fifteen feet, paved with black and white marble; the walls wainscoted, with painted pannels representing scenes of fishing: and on the doors of the beaufet were the portraits of Cotton and Walton. His partnership with Walton in this amusement induced him to write Instructions how to angle for a Trout or Grayling, in a clear Stream, which have since been published as a second part, or Supplement to Walton's Complete Angler At what time his first wife died, is not recorded. His second was Mary, countess dowager of Ardglass, widow of Wingfield, lord Cromwell, second earl of Ardglass ', who died in 1649. She must therefore have been considerably older than our poet, but she had a jointure of 1500l. a year, which, although it afforded him : The Topographer, rol. iii. Supp. 24. Ca a many comforts, was secured from his imprudent management. He died in the parish of St. James's, Westminster, in 1687, and, it would appear, in a state of insolvency, as Elizabeth Bludworth, his principal creditor, administered to his effects, his widow and children having previously renounced the administration, These children were by the first wife. One of them, Mr. Beresford Colton, published in 1694 the Memoirs of the Sieur de Pontis, translated by his father; and perhaps assisted in the collection of his poems which appeared in 1689*: This gentleman liad a company given him in a regiment of fout raised by the earl of Derby, for the service of king William : and one of his sisters was married to the celebrated Dr. George Stanhope, dean of Canterbury. The leading features of Mr. Cotton's character may be gathered from the few cire cumstances we have of his life, and from the general tendency of his works. Like bis father, he was regardless of pecuniary concerns, a lively and agreeable companion, a man of wit and pleasure, and frequently involved in difficulties from which he did not always escape without some loss of character. It has been reported that on one occasion le offended an aunt or grandmother, by introducing, in his Virgil Travestie, the mention of a singular ruff which she wore, and that this provoked the lady to reroke a clause in her will by which she had bequeathed an estate to him. The lines are supposed to be these. and then there is a fair great ruff, But the story is probably not authentic. In his poems, we find a most affectionate epitaph on his aunt Mrs. Ann Stanhope. His fate as a poet has been very singular. The Virgil Travestie and his other burlesque performances have been perpetuated by at least fifteen editions, while his poems, published in 1689', in which he displays true taste and elegance, have never been reprinted until now. The present, indeed, is but a selection, as many of his smaller pieces abound in those indelicacies which were the reproach of the reign of Charles II. In what remain, we find a strange mixture of broad humour and drollery mixed with delicacy and tenderness of sentiment, and even with devotional poetry of a superior cast. His Pindaries will probably not be thought unworthy of a comparison with those of Cowley. His verses are often equally harmonious, while his thoughts are less encumbered with amplification. In his burlesque poems, Butler appears to have been his model, but we have the Hudibrastic measure only: nothing can be more vulgar, disgusting or licentious than his parodies on Virgil and Lucian. That they should have been so often reprinted, marks the slow progress of the refinement of public taste during the greater part of the eighteenth century: but within the last thirty years it has advanced with rapidity, and Cotton is no longer tolerated. The Travestie, indeed, even when executed with a more chaste humour than in Cotton's Virgil, or Bridges' Homer, is an extravagance pernicious to true taste, and ouglit never to be encouraged unless where the original is a legitimate object of ridicule. * This collection was made in a very slovenly manner, several of the pieces being repeated in diffecept parts of the volana C. CHARLES COTTON. upp POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. TO CELIA. ODE. GIVE me my heart again (fair treachery) And faith (bright Colia) tell me, what should Who are all falsehood, do with one so true? Or lend me yours awhile instead of it, That I in time my skill may try, Or that it else may teach me to begin False and imperious Coelia, cease to be Your eyes alone might have subdu'd my Without the poor confed'racy of art. E're twenty weeks are past and gone, But Oh, (false fair!) I thus resolve in vain, THE EXPOSTULATION. HAVE I lov'd my fair so long, Six Olympiads at least, To be at last with scorn oppress'd? Without looking once awry, By which it still aspiring mov'd, When it has brought so true a friend SONNET. What have I left to do but die, Oh fawning, false, deceiving friend! Which treacherously did intend I should be wretched to be wise: And so I am; for being taught To know thy guiles, have only wrought My greater misery and pain: My misery is yet so great, That, though I have found out the cheat I wish for thee again in vain. THE TEMPEST. STANDING Upon the margent of the main, Whilst the high boiling tide came tumbling in, I felt my fluctuating thoughts maintain As great an ocean, and as rude, within; As full of waves, of depths, and broken grounds, As that which daily laves her chalky bounds. Soon could my sad imagination find A parallel to this half world of flood. Discovering man, unhappy man, to be 'Tis my ador'd Diana, then must be The guid'ress to this beaten bark of mine, 'Tis she must calm and smooth this troubled sea, And waft my hope over the vaulting brine: Call home thy venture, Dian, then at last, TO COELIA. ODE. WHEN Cœlia must my old day set, My state is more advanc'd, than when But now to be made free. I've serv'd my time faithful and true, In happy freedom, as my due, A scandal to love's pow'r, We ought not to mispend so much Yet think not (sweet) I'm weary grown, To plead; but, grown to man's estate, THE PICTURE Mow, Chloris, can I e'er believe So faithless, that you can refuse You swore you could the substance give? Is't not enough that I must go Where feather-footed time Would make the image prove O no! 'twould fill my genius' room, ELEGY. Gons! are you just, and can it be Demand of this the reason why? Would end in this, that 'tis your wills. How strangely, in a little space, Now I could quarrel Heav'n, and be Ringleader to a mutiny, Like that of the gigantic wars, Sighing, as though my heart would split; Some god then, (sure you are not all Disdains to sigh, unless for her! Her generous breast with my distress! |