Mr. Ellis enumerates three editions of these poems, the first in 1660, the second in 1664, and the third in 1668. That, however, from which we print, is dated 1661. In 1660 he published, A Congratulatory Poem on the miraculous and glorious Return of Charles II. which we have not seen'.

Besides these poems, he published a translation of Horace, by himself and Fanshaw, Holliday, Hawkins, Cowley, Ben Johnson, &c. and had once an intention to translate Lucretius. In 1654 he published a comedy entitled The Cunning Lovers, which was acted in 1651 at the private house in Drury-lane. He was also editor of the plays of Richard Brome, who, however, is not mentioned as being related to him.

Kennet's Register. p. 216.

TO THE HONOURABLE,

SIR J. ROBINSON,

KNIGHT AND BARONET, HIS MAJESTY'S LIEUTENANT OF THE TOWER OF LONDON.

SIR,

THE many great obligations, which you have from time to time laid on me, do merit a more serious acknowledgment than this rude and toyish address can pretend to, whose design is only to beg pardon and protection, for that I being seduced to print these youthful vanities, have thus audadiously sheltered them under your name. I should not have done it, but that I well know the kindness you have for me, is a sufficient screen against any offence I can commit against you; and I have considered also that there are four great things committed to your custody; the soldiers, the lions, the guns, and (which is more powerful) the money. So that if any should have an itch to snarl at me, they will not dare to open their mouths, lest they should be thought to bark at you; in whose regiment I desire to list this volunteer, being encouraged by this consideration, that together with those great and serious emblems and instruments of power, the apes and catamountains, and other properties of diversion, do there find safety and subsistence; that those privileges may extend to this brat of mine, no less ridiculous, is the ambition of,

sir,

your grateful servant,

A. BROME.

TO THE READER.

To the collection of these papers two accidents have concurred; a lazy disease, and a long vacation 3 the one inclining me to do nothing else, and the other affording me nothing else to do.

To their publication I might alledge several reasons; namely, gratification of friends, importunity, prevention of spurious impressions. But these are in print already in many grave authors, with exact formulas to express the bashfulness of the author, and the badness of the work, &c.

There are another sort of reasons, not expressed but implied, as an ambition to be in print; to have a face cut in copper, with a laurel about my head; a motto and verses underneath made by myself in my own commendation; and to be accounted a wit, and called a poet.

But, to say the truth, none of all these prevailed with me; for I made few of my friends acquainted with the design; and those few told me I should expose myself to the censure of the new generation of judge wits, who, like committee-men, or black witches in poetry, are created only to do mischief; nor did I fear any illegitimate impression hereof, conceiving that nobody would be at the charge of it. And to gratify friends this way, were, instead of quitting old obligations, to

create new.

Now, as to the honour of being in print, with its privileges, 'tis much like being a parliamentman; those that deserve it, need not court it, but will be so, whether they desire it or not; those that merit it not, will come in by purchase. Such authors, like men that beget daughters, must give portions to be rid of their issue.

These reasons being laid aside, as deficient, it will be expected that I should present you with better; but, indeed, I have them not about me; and, for that reason, I am bold to affirm, that I am not bound in strictness to give any man any reason for doing this. For why I made these rambles, I can give no other account than a poor man does why he gets children; that is his pleasure, and this mine. And as with him in his case, it is with me in mine; having brought our brats into the world, it is our duty to provide for their preservation.

I dare not say these poems are good, nor do I certainly know whether they be or not; for the wits are not yet agreed of a standard; nor shall 1 declare them bad, lest others, out of respect to me, should be of the same opinion.

But this I assure you, that I have been told to my face, that they are good, and was such a fond fool to believe it, else, you may be assured, they had never been exposed to view; for, upon my credit, I have no ambition to be laughed at. And it were a great disingenuity to cffer that to my friends, which I myself dislike.

All that is terrible in this case, is, that the author may be laughed at, and the stationer beggared by the book's invendibility. It concerns him to look to the one, I am provided against the other. For it is unkind and unmanly to abuse me for being a bad poet, when as I could not help it, it being my desire to be as good as any that can jeer me; and if I come short by the head, who can help it? Yet I desire to be thus far ingenuous, to let the world know, though they may esteem or call me a poet, by this they may see I am none, or at least so mean a one, that it were better I were

none.

To beg acceptance of this, upon the old promise of never writing more, were to make it a wilfu sin, which I shall not commit. And though at present I resolve against encumbering my thoughts with such unprofitable meditations, yet I will never abjure them; men being no more able to perform vows never to write again, than widows never to marry again.

And now, being taught by custom to beg something of the reader, it shall be this, that in reading and judging these poems, he will consider his own frailty, and fallibility; and read with the same temper and apprehension as if himself had written, and I were to judge. And if he cannot find matter here to please himself, and love me; let him pity my disastrous fate, that threw me into this sad distemper of rhythming.

But as to the men of a severer brow, who may be scandalized at this free way of writing, I desire them to conceive those odes which may seem wild and extravagant, not to be ideas of my own mind, but characters of divers humours set out in their own persons. And what reflected on the times, to be but expressions of what was thought and designed by the persons represented; there being no safe way to reprove vices then raging among us, but to lash them smilingly.

Perhaps it may be expected I should have interlarded this address with ends of Latin; to declare myself a scholar well read. But the reason why I do not, is, because by this late happy change I shall have occasion to employ that little Latin I have to a better use, and make it more advantageous

to me.

Farewel