By I. Watts D.D.
Luke xxiv. 44
All things must be fulfilled which were written in the _Psalms_
concerning me.
HEB. xi. 32, 40.
David, Samuel, and the prophets -- that they without us should
not be made perfect.
Transcriber's Note.
There are significant differences in the numerous reprints of
Isaac Watts' "Psalms." The first generation of this Project
Gutenberg file was from an 1818 printing by C. Corrall of
38 Charing Cross, London.
The Index and the Table of First Lines have been omitted for
the following reasons:
1. They refer to page numbers that are here expunged; and
2. In this electronic version key words, etc., can be easily
located via searches.
Separate numbers have been added to Psalms that have more than
one part or version, for example: Psalm 51:1; Psalm 51:2; etc.
The Life of Isaac Watts, D.D.
by
Dr. Johnson.
From his lives of the most eminent English Poets.
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 Yealden.
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 shoe-maker. 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
freeschool 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 to take 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,
shew 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 shews that he was but at 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 birth-day 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 pursuits of his
studies. Here he dwelt in a family, which, for piety, order,
harmony, and every virtue, was an 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 sooth 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 shewed them,
that zeal and purity might be expressed and enforced by polished
diction.
He continued to the end of his life the 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 he considered that no man
who undertakes merely to methodize or illustrate a system, pretends
to be its author.
In his metaphysical disquisitions, it was observed by the late
learned Dr. 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 principles 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
deficience 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, _Theologiae
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 judgement.
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 appendant 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, Nov. 25, 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 Malbranche 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
judgement 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.