fol. a translation of Homer’s Odyssey, with Sculptures, and Notes.  He afterwards wrote two heroic poems, one entitled the Ephesian Matron, the other the Roman Slave, both dedicated to Thomas earl of Ossory.  The next work he composed was an Epic Poem in 12 Books, in honour of King Charles I. but this was entirely lost in the fire of London in September 1666, when Mr. Ogilby’s house in White Fryars was burnt down, and his whole fortune, except to the value of five pounds, destroyed.  But misfortunes seldom had any irretrievable consequences to Ogilby, for by his insinuating address, and most astonishing industry, he was soon able to repair whatever loss he sustained by any cross accident.  It was not long till he fell on a method of raising a fresh sum of money.  Procuring his house to be rebuilt, he set up a printing-office, was appointed his Majesty’s Cosmographer and Geographic Printer, and printed many great works translated and collected by himself and his assistants, the enumeration of which would be unnecessary and tedious.

This laborious man died September 4, 1676, and was interred in the vault under part of the church in St. Bride’s in Fleet-street.  Mr. Edward Philips in his Theatrum Poetarum stiles him one of the prodigies, from producing, after so late an initiation into literature, so many large and learned volumes, as well in verse as in prose, and tells us, that his Paraphrase upon AEsop’s Fables, is generally confessed to have exceeded whatever hath been done before in that kind.

As to our author’s poetry, we have the authority of Mr. Pope to pronounce it below criticism, at least his translations; and in all probability his original epic poems which we have never seen, are not much superior to his translations of Homer and Virgil.  If Ogilby had not a poetical genius, he was notwithstanding a man of parts, and made an amazing proficiency in literature, by the force of an unwearied application.  He cannot be sufficiently commended for his virtuous industry, as well as his filial piety, in procuring, in so early a time of life, his father’s liberty, when he was confined in a prison.

Ogilby seems indeed to have been a good sort of man, and to have recommended himself to the world by honest means, without having recourse to the servile arts of flattery, and the blandishments of falshood.  He is an instance of the astonishing efficacy of application; had some more modern poets been blessed with a thousandth part of his oeconomy and industry, they needed not to have lived in poverty, and died of want.  Although Ogilby cannot be denominated a genius, yet he found means to make a genteel livelihood by literature, which many of the sons of Parnassus, blessed with superior powers, curse as a very dry and unpleasing soil, but which proceeds more from want of culture, than native barrenness.

Footnote: 
1.  Athen Oxon. vol. ii. p. 378.

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