Bolingbroke, the father of the famous Bolingbroke, lately deceased. The
highest preferment Dr. Trapp ever had in the church, though he was a man
of extensive learning, was, the rectory of Harlington, Middlesex, and of
the united parishes of Christ-Church, Newgate Street, and St. Leonard's
Foster-Lane, with the lectureship of St. Lawrence Jewry, and St.
Martin's in the Fields. The Dr's principles were not of that cast, by
which promotion could be expected. He was attached to the High-Church
interest, and as his temper was not sufficiently pliant to yield to the
prevalence of party, perhaps for that very reason, his rising in the
church was retarded. A gentleman of learning and genius, when paying a
visit to the Dr. took occasion to lament, as there had been lately some
considerable alterations made, and men less qualified than he, raised to
the mitre, that distinctions should be conferred with so little regard
to merit, and wondered that he (the Dr.) had never been promoted to a
see. To this the Dr. replied, 'I am thought to have some learning, and
some honesty, and these are but indifferent qualifications to enable a
man to rise in the church.'
Dr. Trapp's action in the pulpit has been censured by many, as
participating too much of the theatrical manner, and having more the air
of an itinerant enthusiast, than a grave ecclesiastic. Perhaps it may be
true, that his pulpit gesticulations were too violent, yet they bore
strong expressions of sincerity, and the side on which he erred, was the
most favourable to the audience; as the extreme of over-acting any part,
is not half so intolerable as a languid indifference, whether what the
preacher is then uttering, is true or false, is worth attention or no.
The Dr. being once in company with a person, whose profession was that
of a player, took occasion to ask him, 'what was the reason that an
actor seemed to feel his part with so much sincerity, and utter it with
so much emphasis and spirit, while a preacher, whose profession is of a
higher nature, and whose doctrines are of the last importance, remained
unaffected, even upon the most solemn occasion, while he stood in the
pulpit as the ambassador of God, to teach righteousness to the people?'
the player replied, 'I believe no other reason can be given, sir, but
that we are sincere in our parts, and the preachers are insincere in
theirs.' The Dr. could not but acknowledge the truth of this observation
in general, and was often heard to complain of the coldness and
unaffected indifference of his brethren in those very points, in which
it is their business to be sincere and vehement. Would you move your
audience, says an ancient sage, you must yourself be moved; and it is a
proposition which holds universally true. Dr. Trapp was of opinion, that
the highest doctrines of religion were to be considered as infallibly
true, and that it was of more importance to impress them strongly on the
minds of the audience, to speak to their hearts, and affect their
passions, than to bewilder them in disputation, and lead them through
labyrinths of controversy, which can yield, perhaps, but little
instruction, can never tend to refine the passions, or elevate the mind.
Being of this opinion, and from a strong desire of doing good, Dr. Trapp
exerted himself in the pulpit, and strove not only to convince the
judgment, but to warm the heart, for if passions are the elements of
life, they ought to be devoted to the service of religion, as well as
the other faculties, and powers of the soul.
But preaching was not the only method by which, this worthy man promoted
the interest of religion; he drew the muses into her service, and that
he might work upon the hopes and fears of his readers, he has presented
them with four poems, on these important subjects; _Death, Judgment,
Heaven_, and _Hell._ The reason of his making choice of those themes on
which to write, he very fully explains in his preface. He observes, that
however dull, and trite it may be to declaim against the corruption of
the age one lives in, yet he presumes it will be allowed by every body,
that all manner of wickedness, both in principles and practice, abounds
amongst men. 'I have lived (says he) in six reigns, but for about these
twenty years last past, the English nation has been, and is so
prodigiously debauched, its very nature and genius so changed, that I
scarce know it to be the English nation, and am almost a foreigner in
my own country. Not only barefaced, impudent, immorality of all kinds,
but often professed infidelity and atheism. To slop these overflowings
of ungodliness, much has been done in prose, yet not so as to supersede
all other endeavours: and therefore the author of these poems was
willing to try, whether any good might be done in verse. This manner of
conveyance may, perhaps, have some advantage, which the other has not;
at least it makes variety, which is something considerable. The four
last things are manifestly subjects of the utmost importance. If due
reflexions upon Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell, will not reclaim men
from their vices, nothing will. This little work was intended for the
use of all, from the greatest to the least. But as it would have been
intolerably flat, and insipid to the former, had it been wholly written
in a stile level to the capacities of the latter; to obviate
inconveniences on both sides, an attempt has been made to entertain the
upper class of readers, and, by notes, to explain such passages in
divinity, philosophy, history, &c. as might be difficult to the lower.
The work (if it may be so called) being partly argumentative, and partly
descriptive, it would have been ridiculous, had it been possible to make
the first mentioned as poetical as the other. In long pieces of music
there is the plain recitativo, as well as the higher, and more musical
modulation, and they mutually recommend, and set off each other. But
about these matters the writer is little sollicitous, and otherwise,
than as they are subservient to the design of doing good.'
A good man would naturally wish, that such generous attempts, in the
cause of virtue, were always successful. With the lower class of
readers, it is more than probably that these poems may have inspired
religious thoughts, have awaked a solemn dread of punishment, kindled a
sacred hope of happiness, and fitted the mind for the four last
important period[1]; But with readers of a higher taste, they can have
but little effect. There is no doctrine placed in a new light, no
descriptions are sufficiently emphatical to work upon a sensible mind,
and the perpetual flatness of the poetry is very disgustful to a
critical reader, especially, as there were so many occasions of rising
to an elevated sublimity.
The Dr. has likewise written a Paraphrase on the 104th Psalm, which,
though much superior in poetry to his Four Last Things, yet falls
greatly short of that excellent version by Mr. Blacklocke, quoted in the
Life of Dr. Brady.
Our author has likewise published four volumes of sermons, and a volume
of lectures on poetry, written in Latin.
Before we mention his other poetical compositions, we shall consider him
as the translator of Virgil, which is the most arduous province he ever
undertook. Dr. Trapp, in his preface, after stating the controversy,
which has been long held, concerning the genius of Homer and Virgil, to
whom the superiority belongs, has informed us, that this work was very
far advanced before it was undertaken, having been, for many years, the
diversion of his leisure hours at the university, and grew upon him, by
insensible degrees, so that a great part of the Aeneis was actually
translated, before he had any design of attempting the whole.
He further informs us, 'that one of the greatest geniuses, and best
judges, and critics, our age has produced, Mr. Smith of Christ Church,
having seen the first two or three hundred lines of this translation,
advised him by all means to go through with it. I said, he laughed at
me, replied the Dr. and that I should be the most impudent of mortals to
have such a thought. He told me, he was very much in earnest; and asked
me why the whole might not be done, in so many years, as well as such a
number of lines in so many days? which had no influence upon me, nor did
I dream of such an undertaking, 'till being honoured by the university
of Oxford with the public office of professor of poetry, which I shall
ever gratefully acknowledge, I thought it might not be improper for me
to review, and finish this work, which otherwise had certainly been as
much neglected by me, as, perhaps, it will now be by every body else.'
As our author has made choice of blank verse, rather than rhime, in
order to bear a nearer resemblance to Virgil, he has endeavoured to
defend blank verse, against the advocates for rhime, and shew its
superiority for any work of length, as it gives the expression a greater
compass, or, at least, does not clog and fetter the verse, by which the
substance and meaning of a line must often be mutilated, twisted, and
sometimes sacrificed for the sake of the rhime.
'Blank verse (says he) is not only more majestic and sublime, but more
musical and harmonious. It has more rhime in it, according to the
ancient, and true sense of the word, than rhime itself, as it is now
used: for, in its original signification, it consists not in the
tinkling of vowels and consonants, but in the metrical disposition of
words and syllables, and the proper cadence of numbers, which is more
agreeable to the ear, without the jingling of like endings, than with
it. And, indeed, let a man consult his own ears.
Him th'Almighty pow'r
Hurl'd headlong, flaming from the ætherial sky,
With hideous ruin and combustion, down
To bottomless perdition; there to dwell
In adamantine chains, and penal fire;
Who durst defy th'Omnipotent to arms.
Nine times the space that measures day and night
To mortal men, he with his horrid crew
Lay vanquish'd, rowling in the fiery gulph,
Confounded, tho' immortal
Who that hears this, can think it wants rhime to recommend it? or rather
does not think it sounds far better without it? We purposely produced a
citation, beginning and ending in the middle of a verse, because the
privilege of resting on this, or that foot, sometimes one, and sometimes
another, and so diversifying the pauses and cadences, is the greatest
beauty of blank verse, and perfectly agreeable to the practice of our
masters, the Greeks and Romans. This can be done but rarely in rhime;
for if it were frequent, the rhime would be in a manner lost by it; the
end of almost every verse must be something of a pause; and it is but
seldom that a sentence begins in the middle. Though this seems to be the
advantage of blank verse over rhime, yet we cannot entirely condemn the
use of it, even in a heroic poem; nor absolutely reject that in
speculation, which. Mr. Dryden and Mr. Pope have enobled by their
practice. We acknowledge too, that in some particular views, what way of
writing has the advantage over this. You may pick out mere lines, which,
singly considered, look mean and low, from a poem in blank verse, than
from one in rhime, supposing them to be in other respects equal. For
instance, the following verses out of Milton's Paradise Lost, b. ii.
Of Heav'n were falling, and these elements--
Instinct with fire, and nitre hurried him--
taken singly, look low and mean: but read them in conjunction with
others, and then see what a different face will be set upon them.
--Or less than of this frame
Of Heav'n were falling, and these elements
In mutiny had from her axle torn
The stedfast earth. As last his sail-broad vans
He spreads for flight; and in the surging smoke
Uplifted spurns the ground--
--Had not by ill chance
The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud
Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him
As many miles aloft. That fury stay'd;
Quench'd in a boggy syrtis, neither sea,
Nor good dry land: night founder'd on he fares,
Treading the crude consistence.
Our author has endeavoured to justify his choice of blank verse, by
shewing it less subject to restraints, and capable of greater sublimity
than rhime. But tho' this observation may hold true, with respect to
elevated and grand subjects, blank verse is by no means capable of so
great universality. In satire, in elegy, or in pastoral writing, our
language is, it seems, so feebly constituted, as to stand in need of the
aid of rhime; and as a proof of this, the reader need only look upon the
pastorals of Virgil, as translated by Trapp in blank verse, and compare
them with Dryden's in rhime. He will then discern how insipid and fiat
the pastorals of the same poet are in one kind of verification, and how
excellent and beautiful in another. Let us give one short example to
illustrate the truth of this, from the first pastoral of Virgil.
MELIBÆUS.
Beneath the covert of the spreading beech
Thou, Tityrus, repos'd, art warbling o'er,
Upon a slender reed, thy sylvan lays:
We leave our country, and sweet native fields;
We fly our country: careless in the shade,
Thou teachest, Tityrus, the sounding groves
To eccho beauteous Amaryllis' name.
TITYRUS.
O Melibæus, 'twas a god to us
Indulged this freedom: for to me a god
He shall be ever: from my folds full oft
A tender lamb his altar shall embrue:
He gave my heifers, as thou seest, to roam;
And me permitted on my rural cane
To sport at pleasure, and enjoy my muse,
TRAPP.
MELIBÆUS.
Beneath the shade which beechen-boughs diffuse,
You, Tityrus, entertain your Silvan muse:
Round the wide world in banishment we roam,
Forc'd from our pleasing fields, and native home:
While stretch'd at ease you sing your happy loves:
And Amaryllis fills the shady groves.
TITYRUS.
These blessings, friend, a deity bestow'd:
For never can I deem him less than God.
The tender firstlings of my woolly breed
Shall on his holy altar often bleed.
He gave my kine to graze the flowry plain:
And to my pipe renew'd the rural strain.
DRYDEN.
Dr. Trapp towards the conclusion of his Preface to the Aeneid, has
treated Dryden with less reverence, than might have been expected from a
man of his understanding, when speaking of so great a genius. The cause
of Trapp's disgust to Dryden, seems to have been this: Dryden had a
strong contempt for the priesthood, which we have from his own words,
"Priests of all professions are the same."
and takes every opportunity to mortify the usurping superiority of
spiritual tyrants. Trapp, with all his virtues (for I think it appears
he possessed many) had yet much of the priest in him, and for that very
reason, perhaps, has shewn some resentment to Dryden; but if he has with
little candour of criticism treated Mr. Dryden, he has with great
servility flattered Mr. Pope; and has insinuated, as if the Palm of
Genius were to be yielded to the latter. He observes in general, that
where Mr. Dryden shines most, we often see the least of Virgil. To omit
many other instances, the description of the Cyclops forging Thunder for
Jupiter, and Armour for Aeneas, is elegant and noble to the last degree
in the Latin; and it is so to a great degree in the English. But then is
the English a translation of the Latin?
Hither the father of the fire by night,
Thro' the brown air precipitates his flight:
On their eternal anvil, here he found
The brethren beating, and the blows go round.
The lines are good, and truely poetical; but the two first are set to
render
Hoc tunc ignipotens caelo descendit ab alto.
There is nothing of _caelo ab alto_ in the version; nor by _night, brown
air_, or _precipitates his sight_, in the original. The two last are put
in the room of
Ferrum exercebant vasto Cylopes in antro,
Brontesque, Steropesque, & nudus membra Pyraemon.
Vasto in antro, in the first of these lines, and the last line is
entirely left out in the translation. Nor is there any thing of eternal
anvils, or _hers he found_, in the original, and the brethren beating,
and the blows go round, is but a loose version of _Ferrum exercebant._
Dr. Trapp has allowed, however, that though Mr. Dryden is often distant
from the original, yet he sometimes rises to a more excellent height, by
throwing out implied graces, which none but so great a poet was capable
of. Thus in the 12th book, after the last speech of Saturn,
Tantum effata, caput glauco contexit amictu,
Multa gemens, & se fluvio Dea condidit also.
She drew a length of sighs, no more she said,
But with an azure mantle wrapp'd her head;
Then plunged into her stream with deep despair,
_And her last sobs came bubbling up in air_.
Though the last line is not expressed in the original, it is yet in some
measure implied, and it is in itself so exceedingly beautiful, that the
whole passage can never be too much admired. These are excellencies
indeed; this is truly Mr. Dryden. The power of truth, no doubt, extorted
this confession from the Dr. and notwithstanding many objections may be
brought against this performance of Dryden, yet we believe most of our
poetical readers upon perusing it, will be of the opinion of Pope,
'that, excepting a few human errors, it is the noblest and most spirited
translation in any language.' To whom it may reasonable be asked, has
Virgil been most obliged? to Dr. Trapp who has followed his footsteps in
every line; has shewn you indeed the design, the characters, contexture,
and moral of the poem, that is, has given you Virgil's account of the
actions of Æneas, or to Mr. Dryden, who has not only conveyed the
general ideas of his author, but has conveyed them with the same majesty
and fire, has led you through every battle with trepidation, has soothed
you in the tender scenes, and inchanted you with the flowers of poetry?
Virgil contemplated thro' the medium of Trapp, appears an accurate
writer, and the Aeneid as well conducted fable, but discerned in
Dryden's page, he glows as with fire from heaven, and the Aeneid is a
continued series of whatever is great, elegant, pathetic, and sublime.
We have already observed, in the Life of Dryden, that it is easier to
discern wherein the beauties of poetical composition consist, than to
throw out those beauties. Dr. Trapp, in his Prælectiones Poeticæ, has
shewn how much he was master of every species of poetry; that is, how
excellently he understood the structure of a poem; what noble rules he
was capable of laying down, and what excellent materials he could
afford, for building upon such a foundation, a beautiful fabric. There
are few better criticisms in any language, Dryden's dedications and
prefaces excepted, than are contained in these lectures. The mind is
enlarged by them, takes in a wide range of poetical ideas, and is taught
to discover how many amazing requisites are necessary to form a poet. In
his introduction to the first lecture, he takes occasion to state a
comparison between poetry and painting, and shew how small pretensions
the professors of the latter have, to compare themselves with the
former. 'The painter indeed (says he) has to do with the passions, but
then they are such passions only, as discover themselves in the
countenance; but the poet is to do more, he is to trace the rise of
those passions, to watch their gradations, to pain their progress, and
mark them in the heart in their genuine conflicts; and, continues he,
the disproportion between the soul and the body, is not greater than the
disproportion between the painter and the poet.
Dr. Trapp is author of a tragedy called Abramule, or Love and Empire,
acted at the New Theatre at Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, 1704, dedicated to the
Right Honourable the Lady Harriot Godolphin. Scene Constantinople. The
story is built upon the dethronement of Mahomet IV.
Our author has likewise written a piece called The Church of England
Defended against the False Reasoning of the Church of Rome. Several
occasional poems were written by him in English; and there is one Latin
poem of his in the Musæ Anglicanæ. He has translated the Paradise Lost
into Latin Verse, with little success, and, as he published it at his
own risk, he was a considerable loser. The capital blemish of that work,
is, the unharmonious versification, which gives perpetual offence to the
ear, neither is the language universally pure.
He died in the month of November 1747, and left behind him the character
of a pathetic and instructive preacher, a profound scholar, a discerning
critic, a benevolent gentleman, and a pious Christian.
We shall conclude the life of Dr. Trapp with the following verses of Mr.
Layng, which are expressive of the Dr's. character as a critic and a
poet. The author, after applauding Dryden's version, proceeds thus in
favour of Trapp.
Behind we see a younger bard arise,
No vulgar rival in the grand emprize.
Hail! learned Trapp! upon whose brow we find
The poet's bays, and critic's ivy join'd.
Blest saint! to all that's virtuous ever dear,
Thy recent fate demands a friendly tear.
None was more vers'd in all the Roman store,
Or the wide circle of the Grecian lore,
Less happy, from the world recluse too long,
In all the sweeter ornaments of song;
Intent to teach, too careless how to please,
He boasts in strength, whate'er he wants in ease.
FOOTNOTE
[1] By his last Will he ordered a copy of that book to be given to each
of his parishioners, that when he could no longer speak to them from
the pulpit, he might endeavour to instruct them in his writings.
* * * * *
MR. SAMUEL BOYSE.
This Poet was the son of the Revd. Mr. Joseph Boyse, a Dissenting
minister of great eminence in Dublin. Our author's father was a person
so much respected by those immediately under his ministerial care, and
whoever else had the happiness of his acquaintance, that people of all
denominations united in esteeming him, not only for his learning and
abilities, but his extensive humanity and undisembled piety.
The Revd. Gentleman had so much dignity in his manner, that he obtained
from the common people the name of bishop Boyse, meant as a compliment
to the gracefulness of his person and mien. But though Mr. Boyse was
thus reverenced by the multitude, and courted by people of fashion, he
never contracted the least air of superciliousness: He was humane and
affable in his temper, equally removed from the stiffness of pedantry,
and offensive levity. During his ministerial charge at Dublin, he
published many sermons, which compose several folio volumes, a few Poems
and other Tracts; but what chiefly distinguished him as a writer, was
the controversy he carried on with Dr. King, archbishop of Dublin, and
author of the Origin of Evil, concerning the office of a scriptural
bishop. This controverted point was managed on both sides with great
force of argument, and calmness of temper. The bishop asserted that the
episcopal right of jurisdiction had its foundation in the New-Testament:
Mr. Boyse, consistent with his principles, denied that any
ecclesiastical superiority appeared there; and in the opinion of many,
Mr. Boyse was more than equal to his antagonist, whom he treated in the
course of the controversy, with the greatest candour and good-manners.
It has been reported that Mr. Boyse had two brothers, one a clergyman of
the church of England, and the other a cardinal at Rome; but of this
circumstance we have no absolute certainty: Be it as it may, he had,
however, no brother so much distinguished in the world as himself.
We shall now enter upon the life of our poet, who will appear while we
trace it, to have been in every respect the reverse of his father,
genius excepted.--
He was born in the year 1708, and received the rudiments of his
education in a private school in Dublin. When he was but eighteen years
old, his father, who probably intended him for the ministry, sent him to
the university of Glasgow, that he might finish his education there. He
had not been a year at the university, till he fell in love with one
Miss Atchenson, the daughter of a tradesman in that city, and was
imprudent enough to interrupt his education, by marrying her, before he
had entered into his 20th year.