BEN, an eminent English dramatist, the contemporary and friend of Shakspeare, was born at Westminster in 1573. His family was originally of the south of Scotland, no doubt, cadets of the old border clan of Johnstone, of which the Lairds of Lochwood, ancestors of the Marquises of Annandale, were the chiefs. His grandfather had migrated from Annandale to Carlisle, and afterwards entered into the service of Henry VIII. His father suffered confiscation and imprisonment under Queen Mary for his adherence to the Protestant faith; but living into the happy reign of Elizabeth, he became a preacher and survived till 1573. Benjamin, or Ben (his own familiar abbreviation) was a posthumous son, born about a month after his father's decease. His mother's name has not transpired, but from an incident related by her son, she must have been a remarkable person, with more of the spirit of a Roman matron than that of an Englishwoman who had been a minister's wife. In 1604, Jonson, according to his own narration to Drummond of Hawthornden, was accused of writing, in conjunction with Chapman and Marston, against the Scottish nation, in a play named Eastward Hoe. Sir James Murray had laid a complaint on the subject before the king; and the report was that the offending dramatists would have their ears and noses cut. The charge was abandoned; and Jonson in congratulation of his escape, banquetted all his friends. Camden, Selden, and others were present, and "at the midst of the feast," he says "his old mother drank to him, and showed him a paper which she had (if the sentence had taken execution) to have mixed in the prison among his drink, which was full of lusty strong poison, and that she was no churl, she told, she minded first to have drunk of it herself." This high-spirited dame is said to have married again shortly after the death of Jonson's father, her second husband being a bricklayer, living in Hartshorn Lane (now Northumberland Street) Charing Cross. Fuller, who mentions this fact, does not give the second husband's name, but Malone and Gifford, finding that a Mrs Margaret Jonson was married in 1575 at St Martin's-in-the Fields (where Ben Jonson, when a child, is known to have attended school), to a man named Thomas Fowler, concluded that this was the marriage of Jonson's mother. Recent researches, however, prove that the Mrs Fowler married in 1575 was dead before 1595, whereas Jonson's mother was living, as we have seen, in 1604. We have consequently yet to ascertain the name of Jonson's stepfather, if such a relationship really existed. All that he tells us himself is that he was brought up poorly, sent to school by a friend, and afterwards put to a craft which he could not endure. The school in which he was placed by the generous unnamed friend, was the famous Westminster School, then taught by Camden, the learned antiquary and historian, to whom Jonson has expressed his gratitude both in prose and verse. The disagreeable occupation to which he was removed was that of a bricklayer; and Fuller states that Ben assisted in building part of Lincoln's Inn, having a trowel in his hand and a book in his pocket. The trowel was soon thrown aside; Ben enlisted in the army and served during one or two campaigns in the Low Countries. In his epigram To True Soldiers he boasts that he did not shame the great profession of arms; and on one occasion, in the face of both camps, he killed an enemy and took optima spolia from him. On his return to England, he "betook himself," he says, "to his wonted studies." He is said to have entered himself of St John's College, Cambridge, but there is no evidence of his academical career, and the statement may have arisen from the fact that in advanced life, as a compliment to his scholarship and dramatic genius, he was created Master of Arts in both universities. In his lines addressed to Camden he emphatically says:—

"Camden, most reverend head! to whom I owe All that I am in arts—all that I know."

Jonson was not the man to have concealed his university education had he received that distinction. Before he was twenty years of age he was married, and earning a precarious subsistence by acting at the Curtain Theatre in Shoreditch, and writing for the stage. At this time London and its suburbs swarmed with low theatres, and the licentious character of the performances led the privy council to issue orders for their suppression. The players, supported by the populace, kept up a constant war with the civic rulers, but Jonson fortunately obtained a better field for the display of his dramatic talents. As an actor he seems to have failed. He was of too rugged and unbending a nature for that plastic profession, and his person would seem to have been unsuitable, as he mentions his "mountain belly and rocky face," the results perhaps of his subsequent deep potations of Canary. In 1598 his comedy of *Every Man in his Humour* was performed by the Lord Chamberlain's servants at the Globe Theatre. Shakspeare was one of the original performers, and, according to a tradition mentioned by Rowe, it was in consequence of his friendly recommendation that the play was accepted and brought on the stage. The peculiar merits of this comedy and the leading characteristics of Jonson's dramatic genius, have already been described by one to whom universal homage is due (see the article Drama), and we need only remark that before the appearance of this first play of Jonson's, English comedy can scarcely be said to have existed. Shakspeare drew none of his scenes from the domestic life and manners of his countrymen, and the delineations of Nash, Greene, and other contemporary dramatic writers, were either gross caricatures or lifeless inanities. Jonson gave the true form and pressure of English society, in which individual character was developed and a succession of natural and probable incidents represented. "He had learned the principles of comedy," says Mr Hallam, "from Plautus and Terence;" true, but his adaptation of those principles to English characters and manners was the happy conception of genius wrought out with consummate skill and judgment. Jonson never improved upon his first work. His *Brevard* and *Kiteley* are his most successful inventions in the way of comic portraiture; and though his later comedies,—*The Alchemist*, *Volpone*, or *The Fox*, and *The Silent Woman*—display greater influence of dramatic powers and language, and a wider range of character and incident, they depart wholly from the simplicity of nature, and are disfigured by pedantic and over-laboured description.

The brilliant commencement of Jonson's career as an author was clouded by an event which threw him into prison, and almost brought him, as he said, to the gallows. He quarrelled with a brother actor named Gabriel Spencer; a duel ensued, and Jonson killed his antagonist, though the latter, as he stated, was provided with a sword 10 inches longer than his own. Henslowe, a theatrical manager, writing to his son-in-law, Edward Alleyn (the successful tragedian and founder of Dulwich College), on the 26th of September 1598, thus quaintly describes the unfortunate accident:—"Since you were with me I have lost one of my company, which hurteth me greatly,—that is Gabriel; for he is slain in Hoxton Fields by the hands of Benjamin Jonson, bricklayer." This allusion to Jonson's former employment was no doubt made in contempt of the successful duellist, who was an inferior actor to Spencer. In prison Jonson was visited by a Roman Catholic priest, who converted him to the Romish Church, and he remained in that communion twelve years. His literary studies seem not to have been interrupted by his incarceration, which probably did not last long. In 1599 he produced his *Every Man Out of his Humour*, a comedy which attracted Queen Elizabeth to the theatre; and in 1600 and 1601 two other plays proceeded from his ready pen—*Cynthia's Revels*, and *The Poetaster*. In the latter he satirised his contemporaries, Decker and Marston; and Decker retaliated by a counter-satire, *The Satyrnastix*, or the Untrussing of a Humorous Poet*. The angry dramatists were, however, soon reconciled; and, on the accession of James I., when Jonson was desired by the court and the city to prepare a masque or pageant for the reception of the king, he selected Decker as his associate in the task. Previous to this (1603) Jonson's tragedy of *Sejanus* was brought out at the Globe Theatre, and Shakspeare is again mentioned as one of the performers (the last time that his name occurs as an actor). Jonson's tragedy was ill received by the audience. He had copied largely from Tacitus, to evince his "integrity to the story," as he relates, and to save himself from those "common torturers" who criticised his plots, and whom he compares to swine rooting up the muses' gardens. The torturers, however, were not propitiated by this sacrifice to historic truth, for *Sejanus* suffered nearly as much violence from the London audience as its subject did from the rage of the people of Rome. Some one had assisted Jonson in the composition of the tragedy; he threw out the contributions of this unknown "second hand," and the play being remodelled, was brought out with success. It is a heavy but grand and imposing classic drama.

The reign of James was eminently propitious to the stage. A few days after his arrival in London the king took the Lord Chamberlain's players into his pay and patronage; the queen adopted the Earl of Worcester's company; and Prince Henry that of the Lord Admiral. The new sovereign, as appears from Mr Peter Cunningham's *Extracts from the Accounts of the Revels at Court* (Shakspeare Society, 1842), saw five times as many plays in a year as Queen Elizabeth was accustomed to witness. Jonson, though unfortunate in his play of *Eastward Hoe*, atoned for the imagined insult to royalty and Scotland by assiduous and successful court to James, and participated liberally in his majesty's bounty and favour. Between the years 1605 and 1618 he appears to have been incessantly employed either in the production of what may be termed legitimate dramas, or in the preparation of masques for the court and principal nobility, in which his classic impersonations and fine lyrics were aided by music and machinery, and by the effects of splendid dresses and decorations. In these courtly entertainments Jonson was assisted by the inventive and artistic skill of Inigo Jones. During the period we have mentioned Jonson produced his *Volpone*, or *The Fox* (1605); the *Silent Woman* (1609); *Catiline*, a classic tragedy resembling his *Sejanus* (1611); *Bartholomew Fair* (1614); *The Devil is an Ass* (1616); and his masques of *Blackness*, of *Queens*, of *Beauty*, *Oberon*, *Christmas*, &c. Of Jonson's remuneration from these gorgeous masques, we have no account. The cost of *Oberon*, or *Prince Henry's Masque*, is given in the *Court Revels*, and it appears to have amounted to no less than L1412, 6s. 10d. The mercers and silkmen have the principal share; and, while only L16 were awarded to Inigo Jones as "deviser," the tailors' bill was L142, 13s. 6d. As long as King James lived Jonson produced a masque every year on Twelfth Night, and received a pension of 100 merks. He was now at the height of his popularity as a dramatist, though experiencing frequent reverses as to public favour and the reception given to his plays, all of which he affected to despise and condemn. He bore himself loftily to the world, but had gathered round him a knot of young admirers, of whom he was the assumed poetical father, and who were said to be "sealed of the tribe of Ben." The scene of their festivities was a great room, "The Apollo," in the Devil Tavern, near Temple Bar; and the *Leges Conviviales*, or rules of the club, were drawn up by Jonson in Latin, and painted in gold letters on a board over the chimney-piece. (This curious relic is still preserved in the Messrs Child's banking-house.) Jonson was also a frequenter of the Mermaid Tavern in Frith Street, where he had higher intellects to contend with, as Shakspeare, Beaumont and Fletcher, Selden, Carew, Donne, Raleigh, &c. The joyous meetings of the Elizabethan wits have been immortalized by Beaumont in the well-known lines addressed to Jonson, commencing—

"What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame," &c. Viewing in fancy these "wit contests," Fuller compared Jonson to a Spanish great galleon, and Shakspeare to an English man-of-war. "Master Jonson, like the former, was built far higher in learning; solid but slow in his performances. Shakspeare, like the latter, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention." Who but must regret that the Mermaid had not a Boswell to give these scenes a life through all ages?

In 1613 Ben Jonson visited France in the capacity of governor to Sir Walter Raleigh's son. This was an office for which the dramatist's habits peculiarly不适fitted him; and he related himself that the "knavish youth" on one occasion caused him to be drunken, laid him on a car, and had him drawn by pioneers through the streets, at every corner showing his governor stretched out! While in Paris he was introduced to Cardinal du Perron, who showed him his translations of Virgil, on which Ben pronounced the commendatory criticism that "they were naught." In 1618 he undertook a more memorable journey to Scotland, resolving to walk all the way both going and returning; which feet,—remarkable in a man forty-five years of age, and of bulky frame,—he successfully accomplished. He spent some months in Edinburgh and Leith, and towards the close of the year went on a visit to Drummond of Hawthornden.

In the course of conversation, Jonson, over his cups, was characteristically free in his strictures on his contemporary poets, and in relations of his own adventures and opinions. Drummond took notes of the table-talk of his distinguished guest, for which he has been accused of treachery, "discrediting the name of poet," says Mr Procter (Barry Cornwall), "and tarnishing the hospitality of his hospitable country." Gifford had before branded the Scottish poet with "malignity," and Sir Walter Scott had undertaken his defence. A complete copy of these Notes was published in 1842, edited by Mr David Laing; and, so far from condemning Drummond, we are disposed, with Mr Hallam, to thank him for so much literary anecdote, only regretting that his industry had not been equal to his curiosity and fidelity, and that he had not accompanied Jonson's revelations with explanatory circumstances. Drummond never published the Notes, though he survived his visitor a period of twelve years; and this fact should of itself relieve his memory from the charge of being a traitor to his friend and guest. In these private memoranda Jonson does not appear to advantage. He was vain, boastful, and censorious; and these defects, exaggerated by the influence of wine, concealed the nobler qualities which appear in his poetry and animated his conduct. To Shakspeare, whom he has been accused of envying and maligning, he has devoted the highest and most discriminating tribute of love and admiration. Jonson intended to have described his journey to Scotland, and written a "fisher play" on Loch Lomond. He had collected materials from Drummond and others, but his manuscripts were destroyed by a fire in his house, on occasion of which he poured forth hearty execrations on Vulcan. His spirit was indomitable; never was a more laborious literary workman, despite his convivialities, but he seems to have been deterred from resuming his Scottish task, so unfortunately interrupted.

Evil days came with advance of years. In 1628 Jonson was struck with palsy, and he seems to have been at first neglected by the new sovereign, Charles I. He alluded to his necessities and sufferings in the epilogue to his play, The New Sun. The audience ungenerously hissed the play, but the king sent the dramatist a present of £100. Thus encouraged, Jonson ventured to solicit, as a compensation for the unjust censures and bad taste of the age, that his yearly pension of 100 merks should be raised to pounds, and Charles granted the petition. He added also what was perhaps not less welcome, a tierce of Jonson's favourite Canary wine, which was continued yearly during his life, and descended to his successors, the poets-laureate. The annual stipend and tierce of Canary, with the produce of plays and masques, should have secured comfort to the poet's declining years; but Ben was an improvident and bountiful liver. In December 1631 he is found petitioning his generous patron, the Earl of Newcastle, for such bounty as he could spare, "in the name of good letters;" and he enforced his claim by stating that "the barbarous court of aldermen had withdrawn his chandlery pension of L.33, 6s. 8d." Disease had not prostrated his intellect; in 1632 and 1633 he produced two comedies and two masques, which, though ranked by Dryden among Jonson's doctes, are not inferior to some of his early productions. His last work was an unfinished pastoral drama, The Sad Shepherd; a beautiful and highly poetical pastoral, the precursor and prototype of Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess and Milton's Comus. Thus, in every department of poetry except the epic, Jonson challenged and won success, if not from his contemporaries, at least from posterity. His irresistible pedantry and overcharged "humours," with the grossness which was the vice of his age, repel ordinary readers from his plays, and have banished them from the stage; but his masculine sense, wit, observation, and fancy (the last abounding in his exquisite lyrics and minor poems), constitute his right to be considered a great original master in our literature, and as second only to Shakspeare. He died August 6, 1637, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. A pavement stone marked the spot, inscribed "O RAIE BEN JONSON:" which was done, says Aubrey, "at the charge of Jack Young (afterwards knighted), who, walking there when the grave was covering, gave the fellow eighteen pence to cut it." This stone has since been replaced by an uninteresting square, the work of some dull son of earth, a lover of uniformity; but the brief and pregnant inscription can never be forgotten, and supersedes any more elaborate epitaph.

(Jooria, a populous and thriving sea-port of Hindustan, in the Gujerat peninsula, belonging to the rajah of Amram. It is situated on the Gulf of Cutch, twenty miles below Womawin, and carries on a considerable traffic with Mandavee, and other places in the Gulf of Cutch, and on the western coasts of India, Persia, and Arabia, and occasionally with Bombay. Its exports consist chiefly of cotton, ghee, oil, and hides, to the southward, and coarse cloth for Persia and Arabia. In return it receives spices of all sorts, powder, lead, and cocoa-nuts. In 1808, the rajah and principal inhabitants agreed with the Bombay government not to permit or connive at piracy, and also to abstain from plundering persons in distress. E. Long. 70. 22., N. Lat. 22. 40.)

JOPPA. See JALLA.