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Updated: May 11, 2025
Is Costard the bumpkin the best actor in the Mask of the Worthies? Why? Why is Jaquenetta the least and Moth the most discomfitted of the third group of characters? Dowden says the women of the Play "have not the entire advantage on their side." What do they lack? He also says, to bear this out, that "Berowne is yet a larger nature than the Princess or Rosaline."
He was himself greater and better than any of his works, his life being a noble record of devotion to duty and unselfish benevolence. He held the office of Poet Laureate from 1813, and had a pension from Government. He declined a baronetcy. C. Southey. Life by Dowden in Men of Letters . Poet, b. at Horsham St.
II, ch. x-xvi; G. M. Trevelyan, England under the Stuarts, 1603-1714 , brilliant and suggestive; Leopold von Ranke, History of England, Principally in the Seventeenth Century, Eng. trans., 6 vols. , particularly valuable for foreign relations; Edward Dowden, Puritan and Anglican , an interesting study of literary and intellectual England in the seventeenth century; John Lingard, History of England to 1688, new ed. of an old but valuable work by a scholarly Roman Catholic, Vols.
I suppose you haven't met him? Of course, living at Mrs. Apperthwaite's, you wouldn't be apt to." "But what is he doing with Mr. Dowden?" I asked. She lifted her eyebrows. "Why taking him for a drive, I suppose." "No. I mean how do they happen to be together?" "Why shouldn't they be? They're old friends "
"Is he known in these parts?" said Olly Dowden. "Hardly," said Timothy; "but I name no name....Come, keep the fire up there, youngsters." "Whatever is Christian Cantle's teeth a-chattering for?" said a boy from amid the smoke and shades on the other side of the blaze. "Be ye a-cold, Christian?" A thin jibbering voice was heard to reply, "No, not at all."
"But where are the hacks?" asked Dowden, gravely. "Folks all come," answered Mr. Peck, with complete assurance. "Won't be no more hacks till they begin to go home." We plunged ahead as far as the corner of Beasley's fence, where Peck stopped us again, and we drew together, slapping our hands and stamping our feet.
Edward Dowden, in a sonnet, Wise Passiveness, says this plainly: Think you I choose or that or this to sing? I lie as patient as yon wealthy stream Dreaming among green fields its summer dream, Which takes whate'er the gracious hours will bring Into its quiet bosom. To the same effect is a somewhat prosaic poem, Accident in Art, by Richard Hovey. He inquires,
They waved their hats to her gayly, then leaned back comfortably against the cushions and if ever two men were obviously and incontestably on the best of terms with each other, THESE two were. They were David Beasley and Mr. Dowden. "I do wish," said my cousin, resuming her rocking "I do wish dear David Beasley would get a new trap of some kind; that old phaeton of his is a disgrace!
Beasley's house with a nod. "Oh, I understood my blunder," I said, quickly. "I wish I had known the subject was embarrassing or unpleasant to Mr. Dowden." "What made you think that?" "Surely," I said, "you saw how pointedly he cut me off." "Yes," she returned, thoughtfully. "He rather did; it's true. At least, I see how you got that impression."
The turf-cutter seized old Olly Dowden, and, somewhat more gently, poussetted with her likewise.
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