[Footnote 56: Shadwell, who, at the Revolution, was promoted to Dryden's posts of poet-laureat, and royal historiographer, died in 1692: was succeeded in his office of laureat by Nahum Tate, and in that of historiographer by Thomas Rymer. Our author was at present on bad terms with Rymer; to whom, not to Tate, he applies the sarcastic title of Tom the Second. Yet his old co-adjutor, Nahum, is probably included in the warning, that they should not mistake the Earl of Dorset's charity for the recompense of their own merit. We have often remarked, that the Earl of Dorset, although, as lord-chamberlain, he was obliged to dispose of Dryden's offices to persons less politically obnoxious, bestowed at the same time such marks of generosity on the abdicated laureat, that Dryden, here, and elsewhere, honours him with the title of "his patron." For the quarrel between Rymer and Dryden, see the Introduction to the "Translations from Ovid's Metamorphoses," Vol. XII. p. 46. Rymer was an useful antiquary, as his edition of the _Fœdera_ bears witness; but he was a miserable critic, and a worse poet. His tragedy of "Edgar" is probably alluded to in the Epistle as one of the productions of his reign. It was printed in 1678; but appeared under the new title of "_The English Monarch_," in 1691.] [Footnote 57: It was augured by Southerne and by Higgons, that Congreve would succeed to the literary empire exercised by Dryden. The former has these lines addressed to the future monarch: Dryden has long extended his command, By right divine, quite through the Muses' land, Absolute lord; and holding now from none But great Apollo his undoubted crown,-- That empire settled, and grown old in power,-- Can wish for nothing but a successor; Not to enlarge his limits, but maintain Those provinces, which he alone could gain. His eldest, Wycherley, in wise retreat, Thought it not worth his quiet to be great; Loose wandering Etherege, in wild pleasure tost, And foreign interests, to his hopes long lost; Poor Lee and Otway dead; Congreve appears The darling and last comfort of his years. May'st thou live long in thy great master's smiles, And, growing under him, adorn these isles! But when--when part of him, (but that be late!) His body yielding, must submit to fate; Leaving his deathless works, and thee, behind. The natural successor of his mind, Then may'st thou finish what he has begun; Heir to his merit, be in fame his son! In the same strain, Bevill Higgons: What may'n't we then, great youth, of thee presage Whose art and wit so much transcend thy age! How wilt thou shine in thy meridian light, Who, at thy rising, give so vast a light! When Dryden, dying, shall the world deceive, Whom we immortal as his works believe, Thou shalt succeed, the glory of the stage, Adorn and entertain the coming age. ]