Imperial Dictionary of Universal Biography/Congreve, William (1669-1728)
CONGREVE, William, born 1669; died 1728; a gentleman of old and good family. He was educated at Trinity college, Dublin, and on leaving it, entered of the middle temple. At twenty-one he published a novel, which neither enjoyed nor deserved success. In 1693 his first play, "The Old Bachelor," was acted under the patronage of Dryden with universal applause. Although the weakest in style and plot of his four comedies, it has some brilliant and facile writing to allay its vulgarities of conception and commonplaces of execution. Next year appeared "The Double Dealer," a better play which was less successful. All the humour and spirit of a matchless comic style could neither redeem nor conceal the defects of a machinery at once violent and intricate. Nevertheless, in this unfortunate comedy, there are scenes of such wit and power as to eclipse Sheridan at his strongest, and Molière at his weakest; no slight praise for any dramatist. "Love for Love" was brought out on the opening of a theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields; it was the most successful of Congreve's comedies, and is all but the most perfect. In 1697 came out "The Mourning Bride," a patched and padded tragedy, rouged to the eyes, and as violent as Lady Willfort, the memorable heroine of his last and greatest work. "The Way of the World" appeared in 1700, and failed: we have had no such comedy since. Congreve, according to Swift, was rescued from early and degrading poverty by the gift of two sinecures from the political party which enjoyed and appreciated his adherence; on these and his flirtations, he lived a refined and inactive life, cut short by gout and the overturn of a carriage. At his death he left a fortune of £10,000 to the duchess of Marlborough—a legacy which might have been better employed either as a gift to Mrs. Bracegirdle the actress, or as a prop to the fortunes of his family: the former had enjoyed his friendship for years; the latter was reduced to all but destitution. The duchess expressed her regret by lavishing upon a was figure of her deceased friend, all the attentions which he had required when alive. The minor works of Congreve are dull and empty, but for one or two songs which read like fragments of a comedy patched with metre. All that is worthy of notice in the man he has put into four plays; and his main title to our admiration is the union in these works of broad and refined humour. His intellect is clear, cold, and narrow; it has the force and brightness of steel; the edges of it, so to speak, are cut out hard and sharp. There is more weight and matter in Congreve than in any English dramatist since the restoration; and at worst he is no coarser than his time. In Congreve all is plain and clear, if hard and limited; he makes no effort to escape into the region of moral sentiment; if his world is not healthy, neither is it hollow;. and whatever he had of noble humour and feeling was genuine and genial. His style is a model of grace and accurate vigour, and his verbal wit the most brilliant and forcible in English literature. We do not say that it was pure and exalted; such properties belong to other times and other minds. But, as a comic writer, he stands above the best who came after him, and beside the best who went before.—A. C. S.