THE poems of Dr. Watts were, by my recommendation, inserted in the late
Collection, the readers of which are to impute to me whatever pleasure or
weariness they may find in the perusal of Blackmore, Watts, Pomfret, and
Yalden.
Isaac Watts was born July 17, 1674, at Southampton, where his father, of
the same name, kept a boarding-school for young gentlemen, though common
report makes him a shoemaker. He appears, from the narrative of Dr.
Gibbons, to have been neither indigent nor illiterate.
Isaac, the eldest of nine children, was given to books from his infancy,
and began, we are told, to learn Latin when he was four years old—I
suppose, at home. He was afterwards taught Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, by
Mr. Pinhorne, a clergyman, master of the Free School at Southampton, to
whom the gratitude of his scholar afterwards inscribed a Latin ode. His
proficiency at school was so conspicuous that a subscription was proposed
for his support at the University, but he declared his resolution of
taking his lot with the Dissenters. Such he was as every Christian
Church would rejoice to have adopted. He therefore repaired, in 1690, to
an academy taught by Mr. Rowe, where he had for his companions and fellow
students Mr. Hughes the poet, and Dr. Horte, afterwards Archbishop of
Tuam. Some Latin Essays, supposed to have been written as exercises at
this academy, show a degree of knowledge, both philosophical and
theological, such as very few attain by a much longer course of study.
He was, as he hints in his “Miscellanies,” a maker of verses from fifteen
to fifty, and in his youth he appears to have paid attention to Latin
poetry. His verses to his brother, in the glyconic measure, written when
he was seventeen, are remarkably easy and elegant. Some of his other
odes are deformed by the Pindaric folly then prevailing, and are written
with such neglect of all metrical rules as is without example among the
ancients; but his diction, though perhaps not always exactly pure, has
such copiousness and splendour as shows that he was but a very little
distance from excellence. His method of study was to impress the
contents of his books upon his memory by abridging them, and by
interleaving them to amplify one system with supplements from another.
With the congregation of his tutor, Mr. Rowe, who were, I believe,
Independents, he communicated in his nineteenth year. At the age of
twenty he left the academy, and spent two years in study and devotion at
the house of his father, who treated him with great tenderness, and had
the happiness, indulged to few parents, of living to see his son eminent
for literature and venerable for piety. He was then entertained by Sir
John Hartopp five years, as domestic tutor to his son, and in that time
particularly devoted himself to the study of the Holy Scriptures; and,
being chosen assistant to Dr. Chauncey, preached the first time on the
birthday that completed his twenty-fourth year, probably considering that
as the day of a second nativity, by which he entered on a new period of
existence.
In about three years he succeeded Dr. Chauncey; but soon after his
entrance on his charge he was seized by a dangerous illness, which sunk
him to such weakness that the congregation thought an assistant
necessary, and appointed Mr. Price. His health then returned gradually,
and he performed his duty till (1712) he was seized by a fever of such
violence and continuance, that from the feebleness which it brought upon
him he never perfectly recovered. This calamitous state made the
compassion of his friends necessary, and drew upon him the attention of
Sir Thomas Abney, who received him into his house, where, with a
constancy of friendship and uniformity of conduct not often to be found,
he was treated for thirty-six years with all the kindness that friendship
could prompt, and all the attention that respect could dictate. Sir
Thomas died about eight years afterwards, but he continued with the lady
and her daughters to the end of his life. The lady died about a year
after him.
A coalition like this, a state in which the notions of patronage and
dependence were overpowered by the perception of reciprocal benefits,
deserves a particular memorial; and I will not withhold from the reader
Dr. Gibbons’s representation, to which regard is to be paid as to the
narrative of one who writes what he knows, and what is known likewise to
multitudes besides:—
“Our next observation shall be made upon that remarkably kind
Providence which brought the Doctor into Sir Thomas Abney’s family,
and continued him there till his death, a period of no less than
thirty-six years. In the midst of his sacred labours for the glory
of God, and good of his generation, he is seized with a most violent
and threatening fever, which leaves him oppressed with great
weakness, and puts a stop at least to his public services for four
years. In this distressing season, doubly so to his active and pious
spirit, he is invited to Sir Thomas Abney’s family, nor ever removes
from it till he had finished his days. Here he enjoyed the
uninterrupted demonstrations of the truest friendship. Here, without
any care of his own, he had everything which could contribute to the
enjoyment of life, and favour the unwearied pursuit of his studies.
Here he dwelt in a family which, for piety, order, harmony, and every
virtue, was a house of God. Here he had the privilege of a country
recess, the fragrant bower, the spreading lawn, the flowery garden,
and other advantages, to soothe his mind and aid his restoration to
health; to yield him, whenever he chose them, most grateful intervals
from his laborious studies, and enable him to return to them with
redoubled vigour and delight. Had it not been for this most happy
event, he might, as to outward view, have feebly, it may be
painfully, dragged on through many more years of languor, and
inability for public service, and even for profitable study, or
perhaps might have sunk into his grave under the overwhelming load of
infirmities in the midst of his days; and thus the Church and world
would have been deprived of those many excellent sermons and works
which he drew up and published during his long residence in this
family. In a few years after his coming hither, Sir Thomas Abney
dies; but his amiable consort survives, who shows the Doctor the same
respect and friendship as before, and most happily for him and great
numbers besides; for, as her riches were great, her generosity and
munificence were in full proportion; her thread of life was drawn out
to a great age, even beyond that of the Doctor’s, and thus this
excellent man, through her kindness, and that of her daughter, the
present Mrs. Elizabeth Abney, who in a like degree esteemed and
honoured him, enjoyed all the benefits and felicities he experienced
at his first entrance into this family till his days were numbered
and finished, and, like a shock of corn in its season, he ascended
into the regions of perfect and immortal life and joy.”
If this quotation has appeared long, let it be considered that it
comprises an account of six-and-thirty years, and those the years of Dr.
Watts.
From the time of his reception into this family his life was no otherwise
diversified than by successive publications. The series of his works I
am not able to deduce; their number and their variety show the
intenseness of his industry and the extent of his capacity. He was one
of the first authors that taught the Dissenters to court attention by the
graces of language. Whatever they had among them before, whether of
learning or acuteness, was commonly obscured and blunted by coarseness
and inelegance of style. He showed them that zeal and purity might be
expressed and enforced by polished diction. He continued to the end of
his life a teacher of a congregation, and no reader of his works can
doubt his fidelity or diligence. In the pulpit, though his low stature,
which very little exceeded five feet, graced him with no advantages of
appearance, yet the gravity and propriety of his utterance made his
discourses very efficacious. I once mentioned the reputation which Mr.
Foster had gained by his proper delivery, to my friend Dr. Hawkesworth,
who told me that in the art of pronunciation he was far inferior to Dr.
Watts. Such was his flow of thoughts, and such his promptitude of
language, that in the latter part of his life he did not precompose his
cursory sermons, but, having adjusted the heads and sketched out some
particulars, trusted for success to his extemporary powers. He did not
endeavour to assist his eloquence by any gesticulations; for, as no
corporeal actions have any correspondence with theological truth, he did
not see how they could enforce it. At the conclusion of weighty
sentences he gave time, by a short pause, for the proper impression.
To stated and public instruction he added familiar visits and personal
application, and was careful to improve the opportunities which
conversation offered of diffusing and increasing the influence of
religion. By his natural temper he was quick of resentment; but by his
established and habitual practice he was gentle, modest, and inoffensive.
His tenderness appeared in his attention to children, and to the poor.
To the poor, while he lived in the family of his friend, he allowed the
third part of his annual revenue; though the whole was not a hundred a
year; and for children he condescended to lay aside the scholar, the
philosopher, and the wit, to write little poems of devotion, and systems
of instruction, adapted to their wants and capacities, from the dawn of
reason through its gradations of advance in the morning of life. Every
man acquainted with the common principles of human action will look with
veneration on the writer who is at one time combating Locke, and at
another making a catechism for children in their fourth year. A
voluntary descent from the dignity of science is perhaps the hardest
lesson that humility can teach.
As his mind was capacious, his curiosity excursive, and his industry
continual, his writings are very numerous and his subjects various. With
his theological works I am only enough acquainted to admire his meekness
of opposition, and his mildness of censure. It was not only in his book,
but in his mind, that orthodoxy was united with charity.
Of his philosophical pieces, his “Logic” has been received into the
Universities, and therefore wants no private recommendation; if he owes
part of it to Le Clerc, it must be considered that no man who undertakes
merely to methodise or illustrate a system pretends to be its author.
In his metaphysical disquisitions it was observed by the late learned Mr.
Dyer, that he confounded the idea of _space_ with that of _empty space_,
and did not consider that though space might be without matter, yet
matter being extended could not be without space.
Few books have been perused by me with greater pleasure than his
“Improvement of the Mind,” of which the radical principle may indeed be
found in Locke’s “Conduct of the Understanding;” but they are so expanded
and ramified by Watts, as to confer upon him the merit of a work in the
highest degree useful and pleasing. Whoever has the care of instructing
others may be charged with deficiency in his duty if this book is not
recommended.
I have mentioned his treatises of theology as distinct from his other
productions; but the truth is that whatever he took in hand was, by his
incessant solicitude for souls, converted to theology. As piety
predominated in his mind, it is diffused over his works. Under his
direction it may be truly said, _Theologiæ philosophia ancillatur_
(Philosophy is subservient to evangelical instruction). It is difficult
to read a page without learning, or at least wishing, to be better. The
attention is caught by indirect instruction; and he that sat down only to
reason is on a sudden compelled to pray. It was therefore with great
propriety that, in 1728, he received from Edinburgh and Aberdeen an
unsolicited diploma, by which he became a Doctor of Divinity. Academical
honours would have more value if they were always bestowed with equal
judgment. He continued many years to study and to preach, and to do good
by his instruction and example, till at last the infirmities of age
disabled him from the more laborious part of his ministerial functions,
and, being no longer capable of public duty, he offered to remit the
salary appendent to it; but his congregation would not accept the
resignation. By degrees his weakness increased, and at last confined him
to his chamber and his bed, where he was worn gradually away without
pain, till he expired November 25th 1748, in the seventy-fifth year of
his age.
Few men have left behind such purity of character, or such monuments of
laborious piety. He has provided instruction for all ages—from those who
are lisping their first lessons, to the enlightened readers of
Malebranche and Locke; he has left neither corporeal nor spiritual nature
unexamined; he has taught the art of reasoning, and the science of the
stars. His character, therefore, must be formed from the multiplicity
and diversity of his attainments, rather than from any single
performance, for it would not be safe to claim for him the highest rank
in any single denomination of literary dignity; yet, perhaps, there was
nothing in which he would not have excelled, if he had not divided his
powers to different pursuits.
As a poet, had he been only a poet, he would probably have stood high
among the authors with whom he is now associated. For his judgment was
exact, and he noted beauties and faults with very nice discernment; his
imagination, as the “Dacian Battle” proves, was vigorous and active, and
the stores of knowledge were large by which his fancy was to be supplied.
His ear was well tuned, and his diction was elegant and copious. But his
devotional poetry is, like that of others, unsatisfactory. The paucity
of its topics enforces perpetual repetition, and the sanctity of the
matter rejects the ornaments of figurative diction. It is sufficient for
Watts to have done better than others what no man has done well. His
poems on other subjects seldom rise higher than might be expected from
the amusements of a man of letters, and have different degrees of value
as they are more or less laboured, or as the occasion was more or less
favourable to invention. He writes too often without regular measures,
and too often in blank verse; the rhymes are not always sufficiently
correspondent. He is particularly unhappy in coining names expressive of
characters. His lines are commonly smooth and easy, and his thoughts
always religiously pure; but who is there that, to so much piety and
innocence, does not wish for a greater measure of sprightliness and
vigour? He is at least one of the few poets with whom youth and
ignorance may be safely pleased; and happy will be that reader whose mind
is disposed, by his verses or his prose, to imitate him in all but his
non-conformity, to copy his benevolence to man, and his reverence to God.