it is a justice I owe to Mr. Philips, to discover those in which no man
can compare with him. First, the beautiful rusticity, of which I shall
now produce two instances, out of a hundred not yet quoted.
O woeful day! O day of woe, quoth he,
And woeful I, who live the day to see!
That simplicity of diction, the melancholy flowing of the numbers, the
solemnity of the sound, and the easy turn of the words, are extremely
elegant.
In another Pastoral, a shepherd utters a Dirge, not much inferior to the
former in the following lines.
Ah me the while! ah me, the luckless day!
Ah luckless lad, the rather might I say;
Ah silly I! more silly than my sheep,
Which on the flow'ry plains I once did keep.
How he still charms the ear, with his artful repetition of the epithets;
and how significant is the last verse! I defy the most common reader to
repeat them, without feeling some motions of compassion. In the next
place, I shall rank his Proverbs in which I formerly observed he excels:
For example,
A rolling stone is ever bare of moss;
And, to their cost, green years old proverbs cross,
--He that late lies down, as late will rise,
And sluggard like, till noon-day snoring lies.
Against ill-luck, all cunning foresight fails;
Whether we sleep or wake, it nought avails.
--Nor fear, from upright sentence wrong,
Lastly, His excellent dialect, which alone might prove him the eldest
born of Spencer, and the only true Arcadian, &c.
Thus far the comparison between the merit of Mr. Pope and Mr. Philips,
as writers of Pastoral, made by the author of this paper in the
Guardian, after the publication of which, the enemies of Pope exulted,
as in one particular species of poetry, upon which he valued himself, he
was shewn to be inferior to his contemporary. For some time they enjoyed
their triumph; but it turned out at last to their unspeakable
mortification.
The paper in which the comparison is inserted, was written by Mr. Pope
himself. Nothing could have so effectually defeated the design of
diminishing his reputation, as this method, which had a very contrary
effect. He laid down some false principles, upon these he reasoned, and
by comparing his own and Philips's Pastorals, upon such principles it
was no great compliment to the latter, that he wrote more agreeable to
notions which are in themselves false.
The subjects of pastoral are as various as the passions of human nature;
nay, it may in some measure partake of every kind of poetry, but with
this limitation, that the scene of it ought always to be laid in the
country, and the thoughts never contrary to the ideas of those who are
bred there. The images are to be drawn from rural life; and provided the
language is perspicuous, gentle, and flowing, the sentiments may be as
elegant as the country scenes can furnish.--In the particular comparison
of passages between Pope and Philips, the former is so much superior,
that one cannot help wondering, that Steele could be thus imposed upon,
who was in other respects a very quick discerner. Though 'tis not
impossible, but that Guardian might go to the press without Sir
Richard's seeing it; he not being the only person concern'd in that
paper.
The two following lines so much celebrated in this paper, are
sufficiently convincing, that the whole criticism is ironical.
Ah! silly I, more silly than my sheep,
Which on the flowr'y plains I once did keep.
Nothing can be much more silly than these lines; and yet the author
says, "How he still charms the ear with the artful repetitions of
epithets."
SILLY I, MORE SILLY THAN MY SHEEP.
The next work Mr. Philips published after his Pastorals, and which it is
said he wrote at the university, was his life of John Williams lord
keeper of the great-seal, bishop of Lincoln and archbishop of York, in
the reigns of king James and Charles the First, in which are related
some remarkable occurrences in those times, both in church and state,
with an appendix, giving an account of his benefactions to St. John's
college.
Mr. Philips, seems to have made use of archbishop William's life, the
better to make known his own state principles, which in the course of
that work he had a fair occasion of doing. Bishop Williams was the great
opposer of High-Church measures, he was a perpetual antagonist to Laud;
and lord Clarendon mentions him in his history with very great decency
and respect, when it is considered that they adhered to opposite
parties.
Mr. Philips, who early distinguished himself in revolution principles,
was concerned with Dr. Boulter, afterwards archbishop of Armagh, the
right honourable Richard West, Esq; lord chancellor of Ireland; the
revd. Mr. Gilbert Burnet, and the revd. Mr. Henry Stevens, in writing a
paper called the Free-Thinker; but they were all published by Mr.
Philips, and since re-printed in three volumes in 12mo. In the latter
part of the reign of queen Anne, he was secretary to the Hanover Club, a
set of noblemen and gentlemen, who associated in honour of that
succession. They drank regular toasts to the health of those ladies, who
were most zealously attached to the Hanoverian family; upon whom Mr.
Philips wrote the following lines,
While these, the chosen beauties of our isle,
Propitious on the cause of freedom smile,
The rash Pretender's hopes we may despise,
And trust Britannia's safety to their eyes.
After the accession of his late majesty, Mr. Philips was made a justice
of peace, and appointed a commissioner of the lottery. But though his
circumstances were easy, the state of his mind was not so; he fell under
the severe displeasure of Mr. Pope, who has satirized him with his usual
keenness.
'Twas said, he used to mention Mr. Pope as an enemy to the government;
and that he was the avowed author of a report, very industriously
spread, that he had a hand in a paper called The Examiner. The revenge
which Mr. Pope took in consequence of this abuse, greatly ruffled the
temper of Mr. Philips, who as he was not equal to him in wit, had
recourse to another weapon; in the exercise of which no great parts are
requisite. He hung up a rod at Button's, with which he resolved to
chastise his antagonist, whenever he should come there. But Mr. Pope,
who got notice of this design, very prudently declined coming to a
place, where in all probability he must have felt the resentment of an
enraged author, as much superior to him in bodily strength, as inferior
in wit and genius.
When Mr. Philips's friend, Dr. Boulter, rose to be archbishop of Dublin,
he went with him into Ireland, where he had considerable preferments;
and was a member of the House of Commons there, as representative of the
county of Armagh.
Notwithstanding the ridicule which Mr. Philips has drawn upon himself,
by his opposition to Pope, and the disadvantageous light his Pastorals
appear in, when compared with his; yet, there is good reason to believe,
that Mr. Philips was no mean Arcadian: By endeavouring to imitate too
servilely the manners and sentiments of vulgar rustics, he has sometimes
raised a laugh against him; yet there are in some of his Pastorals a
natural simplicity, a true Doric dialect, and very graphical
descriptions.
Mr. Gildon, in his compleat Art of Poetry, mentions him with Theocritus
and Virgil; but then he defeats the purpose of his compliment, for by
carrying the similitude too far, he renders his panegyric hyperbolical.
We shall now consider Mr. Philips as a dramatic writer. The first piece
he brought upon the stage, was his Distress'd Mother, translated from
the French of Monsieur Racine, but not without such deviations as Mr.
Philips thought necessary to heighten the distress; for writing to the
heart is a secret which the best of the French poets have not found out.
This play was acted first in the year 1711, with every advantage a play
could have. Pyrrhus was performed by Mr. Booth, a part in which he
acquired great reputation. Orestes was given to Mr. Powel, and
Andromache was excellently personated by the inimitable Mrs. Oldfield.
Nor was Mrs. Porter beheld in Hermione without admiration. The
Distress'd Mother is so often acted, and so frequently read, we shall
not trouble the reader with giving any farther account of it.
A modern critic speaking of this play, observes that the distress of
Andromache moves an audience more than that of Belvidera, who is as
amiable a wife, as Andromache is an affectionate mother; their
circumstances though not similar, are equally interesting, and yet says
he, 'the female part of the audience is more disposed to weep for the
suffering mother, than the suffering wife.[1]' The reason 'tis imagin'd
is this, there are more affectionate mothers in the world than wives.
Mr. Philips's next dramatic performance was The Briton, a Tragedy; acted
1721. This is built on a very interesting and affecting story, whether
founded on real events I cannot determine, but they are admirably fitted
to raise the passion peculiar to tragedy. Vanoc Prince of the Cornavians
married for his second wife Cartismand, Queen of the Brigantians, a
woman of an imperious spirit, who proved a severe step-mother to the
King's daughter Gwendolen, betrothed to Yvor, the Prince of the
Silurians. The mutual disagreement between Vanoc and his Queen, at last
produced her revolt from him. She intrigues with Vellocad, who had been
formerly the King's servant, and enters into a league with the Roman
tribune, in order to be revenged on her husband. Vanoc fights some
successful battles, but his affairs are thrown into the greatest
confusion, upon receiving the news that a party of the enemy has carried
off the Princess his daughter. She is conducted to the tent of Valens
the Roman tribune, who was himself in love with her, but who offered her
no violation. He went to Vanoc in the name of Didius the Roman general,
to offer terms of peace, but he was rejected with indignation. The scene
between Vanoc and Valens is one of the most masterly to be met with in
tragedy. Valens returns to his fair charge, while her father prepares
for battle, and to rescue his daughter by the force of arms. But
Cartismand, who knew that no mercy would be shewn her at the hands of
her stern husband, flies to the Princess's tent, and in the violence of
her rage stabs her. The King and Yvor enter that instant, but too late
to save the beauteous Gwendolen from the blow, who expires in the arms
of her betrothed husband, a scene wrought up with the greatest
tenderness. When the King reproaches Cartismand for this deed of horror,
she answers,
Hadst thou been more forgiving, I had been less cruel.
VANOC
Wickedness! barbarian! monster--
What had she done, alas!--Sweet innocence!
She would have interceded for thy crimes.
CARTISMAND
Too well I knew the purpose of thy soul.--
Didst thou believe I would submit?--resign my crown?--
Or that thou only hadst the power to punish?
VANOC
Yet I will punish;--meditate strange torments!--
Then give thee to the justice of the Gods.
CARTISMAND
Thus Vanoc, do I mock thy treasur'd rage.--
My heart springs forward to the dagger's point.
Vanoc
Quick, wrest it from her!--drag her hence to chains.
CARTISMAND
There needs no second stroke--
Adieu, rash man!--my woes are at an end:--
Thine's but begun;--and lasting as thy life.
Mr. Philips in this play has shewn how well he was acquainted with the
stage; he keeps the scene perpetually busy; great designs are carrying
on, the incidents rise naturally from one another, and the catastrophe
is moving. He has not observed the rules which some critics have
established, of distributing poetical justice; for Gwendolen, the most
amiable character in the play is the chief sufferer, arising from the
indulgence of no irregular passion, nor any guilt of hers.
The next year Mr. Philips introduced another tragedy on the stage called
Humfrey Duke of Gloucester, acted 1721. The plot of this play is founded
on history. During the minority of Henry VI. his uncle, the duke of
Gloucester, was raised to the dignity of Regent of the Realm. This high
station could not but procure him many enemies, amongst whom was the
duke of Suffolk, who, in order to restrain his power, and to inspire the
mind of young Henry with a love of independence, effected a marriage
between that Prince, and Margaret of Anjou, a Lady of the most
consummate beauty, and what is very rare amongst her sex, of the most
approved courage. This lady entertained an aversion for the duke of
Gloucester, because he opposed her marriage with the King, and
accordingly resolves upon his ruin.
She draws over to her party cardinal Beaufort, the Regent's uncle, a
supercilious proud churchman. They fell upon a very odd scheme to shake
the power of Gloucester, and as it is very singular, and absolutely
fact, we shall here insert it.
The duke of Gloucester had kept Eleanor Cobham, daughter to the lord
Cobham, as his concubine, and after the dissolution of his marriage with
the countess of Hainault, he made her his wife; but this did not restore
her reputation: she was, however, too young to pass in common repute for
a witch, yet was arrested for high treason, founded on a pretended piece
of witchcraft, and after doing public penance several days, by sentence
of convocation, was condemned to perpetual imprisonment in the Isle of
Man, but afterwards removed to Killingworth-castle. The fact charged
upon her, was the making an image of wax resembling the King, and
treated in such a manner by incantations, and sorceries, as to make
him waste away, as the image gradually consumed. John Hume, her
chaplain, Thomas Southwell, a canon of St. Stephen's Westminster, Roger
Bolingbroke, a clergyman highly esteemed, and eminent for his uncommon
learning, and merit, and perhaps on that account, reputed to have great
skill in necromancy, and Margery Jourdemain, commonly called The Witch
of Eye, were tried as her accomplices, and condemned, the woman to be
burnt, the others to be drawn, hanged, and quartered at Tyburn[2]. This
hellish contrivance against the wife of the duke of Gloucester, was
meant to shake the influence of her husband, which in reality it did, as
ignorance and credulity cooperated with his enemies to destroy him. He
was arrested for high treason, a charge which could not be supported,
and that his enemies might have no further trouble with him, cardinal
Beaufort hired assassins to murder him. The poet acknowledges the hints
he has taken from the Second Part of Shakespear's Henry VI, and in some
scenes has copied several lines from him. In the last scene, that
pathetic speech of Eleanor's to Cardinal Beaufort when he was dying in
the agonies of remorse and despair, is literally borrowed.
WARWICK
See how the pangs of death work in his features.
YORK
Disturb him not--let him pass peaceably.
ELEANOR
Lord Cardinal;--if thou think'st of Heaven's bliss
Hold up thy hand;--make signal of that hope.
He dies;--and makes no sign!--
In praise of this tragedy, Mr. Welsted has prefixed a very elegant copy
of verses.
Mr. Philips by a way of writing very peculiar, procured to himself the
name of Namby Pamby. This was first bestowed on him by Harry Cary, who
burlesqued some little pieces of his, in so humorous a manner, that for
a long while, Harry's burlesque, passed for Swift's with many; and by
others were given to Pope: 'Tis certain, each at first, took it for the
other's composition.
In ridicule of this manner, the ingenious Hawkins Brown, Esq; now a
Member of Parliament, in his excellent burlesque piece called The Pipe
of Tobacco, has written an imitation, in which the resemblance is so
great, as not to be distinguished from the original. This gentleman has
burlesqued the following eminent authors, by such a close imitation of
their turn of verse, that it has not the appearance of a copy, but an
original.
SWIFT,
POPE,
THOMSON,
YOUNG,
PHILIPS,
CIBBER.
As a specimen of the delicacy of our author's turn of verification, we
shall present the reader with his translation of the following beautiful
Ode of Sappho.
Hymn to Venus
1.
O Venus, beauty of the skies,
To whom a thousand temples rise,
Gayly false, in gentle smiles,
Full of love, perplexing wiles;
O Goddess! from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love.
2.
If ever thou hast kindly heard
A song in soft distress preferr'd,
Propitious to my tuneful vow,
O gentle goddess! hear me now.
Descend, thou bright immortal guest!
In all thy radiant charms confess'd.
3.
Thou once did leave almighty Jove,
And all the golden roofs above;
The carr thy wanton sparrows drew,
Hov'ring in air, they lightly flew;
As to my bower they wing'd their way,
I saw their quiv'ring pinions play.
4.
The birds dismiss'd (while you remain)
Bore back their empty car again;
Then you, with looks divinely mild,
In ev'ry heav'nly feature smil'd,
And ask'd what new complaints I made,
And why I call'd you to my aid?
5.
What frenzy in my bosom rag'd,
And by what cure to be asswag'd?
What gentle youth I would allure,
Whom in my artful toils secure?
Who does thy tender heart subdue,
Tell me, my Sappho, tell me who!
6.
Tho' now he shuns my longing arms,
He soon shall court thy slighted charms;
Tho' now thy off'rings he despise,
He soon to thee shall sacrifice;
Tho' now he freeze, he soon shall burn,
And be thy victim in his turn.
7.
Celestial visitant once more,
Thy needful presence I implore.
In pity come, and ease my grief,
Bring my distemper'd soul relief,
Favour thy suppliant's hidden fires,
And give me all my heart's desires.
There is another beautiful ode by the same Grecian poetess, rendered
into English by Mr. Philips with inexpressible delicacy, quoted in the
Spectator, vol. iii,. No. 229.
1.
Blest, as th'immortal Gods is he
The youth who fondly fits by thee,
And hears, and sees thee all the while
Softly speak, and sweetly smile.
2.
'Twas this depriv'd my soul of rest,
And raised such tumults in my breast;
For while I gaz'd, in transport tost,
My breath was gone, my voice was lost.
3.
My bosom glow'd; the subtle flame
Ran quick thro' all my vital frame,
O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung;
My ears with hollow murmurs rung.
4.
In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd;
My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd;
My feeble pulse forgot to play;
I fainted, sunk, and died away.
Mr. Philips having purchased an annuity of 400 l. per annum, for his
life, came over to England sometime in the year 1748: But had not his
health; and died soon after at his lodgings near Vauxhall.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Vide the ACTOR.
[2] See Cart's History of England, Reign of Henry VI.
* * * * *
RICHARD MAITLAND, EARL OF LAUDERDALE
This learned nobleman was nephew to John, the great duke of Lauderdale,
who was secretary of state to King Charles II for Scotch affairs, and
for many years had the government of that kingdom entirely entrusted to
him. Whoever is acquainted with history will be at no loss to know, with
how little moderation he exercised his power; he ruled his native
country with a rod of iron, and was the author of all those disturbances
and persecutions which have stained the Annals of Scotland, during that
inglorious period.
As the duke of Lauderdale was without issue-male of his own body, he
took our author into his protection as his immediate heir, and ordered
him to be educated in such a manner as to qualify him for the possession
of those great employments his ancestors enjoyed in the state. The
improvement of this young nobleman so far exceeded his years, that he
was very early admitted into the privy council, and made lord justice
clerk, anno 1681. He married the daughter of the earl of Argyle, who was
tried for sedition in the state, and confined in the castle of
Edinburgh. When Argyle found his fate approaching, he meditated, and
effected his escape; and some letters of his being intercepted and
decyphered, which had been written to the earl of Lauderdale, his
lordship fell under a cloud, and was stript of his preferments. These
letters were only of a familiar nature, and contained nothing but
domestic business; but a correspondence with a person condemned, was
esteemed a sin in politics not to be forgiven, especially by a man of
the Duke of York's furious disposition.
Though the duke of Lauderdale had ordered our author to be educated as
his heir, yet he left all his personal estate, which was very great, to
another, the young nobleman having, by some means, disobliged him; and
as he was of an ungovernable implacable temper, could never again
recover his favour[1]. Though the earl of Lauderdale was thus removed
from his places by the court, yet he persisted in his loyalty to the
Royal Family, and, upon the revolution, followed the fortune of King
James II, and some years after died in France, leaving no surviving
issue, so that the titles devolved on his younger brother.
While the earl was in exile with his Royal master, he applied his mind
to the delights of poetry, and, in his leisure hours, compleated a
translation of Virgil's works. Mr. Dryden, in his dedication of the
Aeneis, thus mentions it; 'The late earl of Lauderdale, says he, sent me
over his new translation of the Aeneis, which he had ended before I
engaged in the same design. Neither did I then intend it, but some
proposals being afterwards made me by my Bookseller, I desired his
lordship's leave that I might accept them, which he freely granted, and
I have his letter to shew for that permission. He resolved to have
printed his work, which he might have done two years before I could have
published mine; and had performed it, if death had not prevented him.
But having his manuscript in my hands, I consulted it as often as I
doubted of my author's sense; for no man understood Virgil better than
that learned nobleman. His friends have yet another, and more correct
copy of that translation by them, which if they had pleased to have
given the public, the judges might have been convinced that I have not
flattered him.'
Lord Lauderdale's friends, some years after the publication of Dryden's
Translation, permitted his lordship's to be printed, and, in the late
editions of that performance, those lines are marked with inverted
commas, which Dryden thought proper to adopt into his version, which are
not many; and however closely his lordship may have rendered Virgil, no
man can conceive a high opinion of that poet, contemplated through the
medium of his Translation.
Dr. Trapp, in his preface to the Aeneis, observes,
'that his lordship's Translation is pretty near to the original, though
not so close as its brevity would make one imagine; and it sufficiently
appears, that he had a right taste in poetry in general, and the Aeneid
in particular. He shews a true spirit, and, in many places, is very
beautiful. But we should certainly have seen Virgil far better
translated, by a noble hand, had the earl of Lauderdale been the earl of
Roscommon, and had the Scottish peer followed all the precepts, and been
animated with the genius of the Irish.'
We know of no other poetical compositions of this learned nobleman, and
the idea we have received from history of his character, is, that he was
in every respect the reverse of his uncle, from whence we may reasonably
conclude, that he possessed many virtues, since few statesmen of any age
ever were tainted with more vices than the duke of Lauderdale.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Crawford's Peerage of Scotland.
* * * * *
DR. JOSEPH TRAPP
This poet was second son to the rev. Mr. Joseph Trapp, rector of
Cherington in Gloucestershire, at which place he was born, anno 1679. He
received the first rudiments of learning from his father, who instructed
him in the languages, and superintended his domestic education. When he
was ready for the university he was sent to Oxford, and was many years
scholar and fellow of Wadham College, where he took the degree of master
of arts. In the year 1708 he was unanimously chosen professor of poetry,
being the first of that kind. This institution was founded by Dr. Henry
Birkhead, formerly fellow of All-Souls, and the place of lecturer can be
held only for ten years.