While Dryden was engaged with his great translation, he found two months’ leisure to execute a prose version of Fresnoy’s “Art of Painting,” to which he added an ingenious Preface, the work of twelve mornings, containing a parallel between that art and poetry; of which Mason has said, that though too superficial to stand the test of strict criticism, yet it will always give pleasure to readers of taste, even when it fails to convince their judgment.  This version appeared in 1695.  Mr. Malone conjectures that our author was engaged in this task by his friends Closterman, and Sir Godfrey Kneller, artists, who had been active in procuring subscriptions for his Virgil.  He also wrote a “Life of Lucian,” for a translation of his works, by Mr. Walter Moyle, Sir Henry Shere, and other gentlemen of pretension to learning.  This version, although it did not appear till after his death, and although he executed no part of the translation, still retains the title of “Dryden’s Lucian.”

There was one event of political importance which occurred in December 1695, and which the public seem to have expected should have employed the pen of Dryden;—­this was the death of Mary, wife of William the Third.  It is difficult to conceive in what manner the poet laureate of the unfortunate James could have treated the memory of his daughter.  Satire was dangerous, and had indeed been renounced by the poet; and panegyric was contrary to the principles for which he was suffering.  Yet, among the swarm of rhymers who thrust themselves upon the nation on that mournful occasion, there are few who do not call, with friendly or unfriendly voice, upon our poet to break silence.[23] But the voice of praise and censure was heard in vain, and Dryden’s only interference was, in character of the first judge of his time, to award the prize to the Duke of Devonshire, as author of the best poem composed on occasion of the Queen’s death.[24]

Virgil was hardly finished, when our author distinguished himself by the immortal Ode to Saint Cecilia, commonly called “Alexander’s Feast.”  There is some difference of evidence concerning the time occupied in this splendid task.  He had been solicited to undertake it by the stewards of the Musical Meeting, which had for several years met to celebrate the feast of St. Cecilia, their patroness, and whom he had formerly gratified by a similar performance.  In September 1697, Dryden writes to his son:—­“In the meantime, I am writing a song for St. Cecilia’s feast; who, you know, is the patroness of music.  This is troublesome, and no way beneficial; but I could not deny the stewards, who came in a body to my house to desire that kindness, one of them being Mr. Bridgeman, whose parents are your mother’s friends.”  This account seems to imply, that the Ode was a work of some time; which is countenanced by Dr. Birch’s expression, that Dryden himself “observes, in an original letter of his, that he was employed for almost a fortnight in composing