_On sir_ WILLIAM TRUMBULL, one of the principal secretaries of state to
king William the third, who, having resigned his place, died in his
retirement at Easthamstead, in Berkshire, 1716.
A pleasing form; a firm, yet cautious mind;
Sincere, though prudent; constant, yet resign'd;
Honour unchang'd, a principle profest,
Fix'd to one side, but mod'rate to the rest:
An honest courtier, yet a patriot too;
Just to his prince, and to his country true;
Fill'd with the sense of age, the fire of youth,
A scorn of wrangling, yet a zeal for truth;
A gen'rous faith, from superstition free;
A love to peace, and hate of tyranny;
Such this man was; who now, from earth remov'd,
At length enjoys that liberty he lov'd.
In this epitaph, as in many others, there appears, at the first view, a
fault which, I think, scarcely any beauty can compensate. The name is
omitted. The end of an epitaph is to convey some account of the dead;
and to what purpose is any thing told of him whose name is concealed? An
epitaph, and a history of a nameless hero, are equally absurd, since the
virtues and qualities so recounted in either are scattered at the mercy
of fortune to be appropriated by guess. The name, it is true, may be
read upon the stone; but what obligation has it to the poet, whose
verses wander over the earth, and leave their subject behind them, and
who is forced, like an unskilful painter, to make his purpose known by
adventitious help?
This epitaph is wholly without elevation, and contains nothing striking
or particular; but the poet is not to be blamed for the defects of his
subject. He said, perhaps, the best that could be said. There are,
however, some defects which were not made necessary by the character in
which he was employed. There is no opposition between an _honest
courtier_ and a _patriot_; for, an _honest courtier_ cannot but be a
_patriot_.
It was unsuitable to the nicety required in short compositions, to close
his verse with the word _too_: every rhyme should be a word of emphasis;
nor can this rule be safely neglected, except where the length of the
poem makes slight inaccuracies excusable, or allows room for beauties
sufficient to overpower the effects of petty faults.
At the beginning of the seventh line the word filled is weak and
prosaick, having no particular adaptation to any of the words that
follow it.
The thought in the last line is impertinent, having no connexion with
the foregoing character, nor with the condition of the man described.
Had the epitaph been written on the poor conspirator[153] who died
lately in prison, after a confinement of more than forty years, without
any crime proved against him, the sentiment had been just and
pathetical; but why should Trumbull be congratulated upon his liberty,
who had never known restraint?