profession, his agreeable conversation, and unaffected good nature,
procured him vast practice, introduced him to the acquaintance, and
established him in the esteem of most of the nobility and gentry. Much
about the same time he gave a distinguishing instance of his profound
knowledge in his profession, his perfect acquaintance with antiquity,
and correct taste in Roman eloquence by a Latin oration, pronounced
before the Faculty in Warwick-Lane, September 17, 1697, to the great
satisfaction of the audience, and the raising his own reputation, as the
college register testifies. Pieces of this kind are often composed with
peculiar attention to the phrase, the sound of the periods in speaking,
and their effect upon the ear; these advantages were by no means
neglected in Dr. Garth's performance, but the sentiments, the spirit,
and stile appeared to still greater advantage in the reading; and the
applause with which it was received by its hearers, was echoed by those
who perused it; this instance is the more singular, as few have been
distinguished both as orators and poets.
Cicero, who was not heard by his cotemporaries with greater applause,
than his works are now read with admiration, attempted poetry without
success; reputation in that kind of writing the Roman orator much
desired, but never could compose a line to please himself, or any of his
friends.
Upon the death of Dryden in May 1701, by a very strange accident his
burial[2] came to depend on the piety of Dr. Garth, who caused the body
to be brought to the College of Physicians, proposed and encouraged by
his generous example a subscription for defraying the expence of the
funeral, and after pronouncing over the corpse a suitable oration, he
attended the solemnity to Westminster-Abbey, where at last the remains
of that great man were interred in Chaucer's grave. For this memorable
act of tenderness and generosity, those who loved the person, or who
honoured the parts of that excellent poet, expressed much gratitude to
Dr. Garth. He was one of the most eminent members of a famous society
called the Kit-Kat Club, which consisted of above thirty noblemen and
gentlemen, distinguished by their zealous affection to the Protestant
succession in the House of Hanover[3]. October 3, 1702 he was elected
one of the Censors of the College of Physicians. In respect to his
political principles, he was open and warm, and which was still more to
be valued, he was steady and sincere. In the time of lord Godolphin's
administration, nobody was better received of his rank than Dr. Garth;
and nobody seemed to have a higher opinion of that minister's integrity,
and abilities in which he had, however, the satisfaction of thinking
with the public.
In 1710, when the Whig ministry was discarded, and his lordship had an
opportunity of distinguishing his own friends, from those which were
only the friends of his power, it could not fail of giving him sensible
pleasure to find Dr. Garth early declaring for him, and amongst the
first who bestowed upon him the tribute of his muse, at a time when
that nobleman's interest sunk: A situation which would have struck a
flatterer dumb. There were some to whom this testimony of gratitude
was by no means pleasing, and therefore the Dr's. lines were severely
criticised by the examiner, a paper engaged in the defence of the new
ministry; but instead of sinking the credit either of the author, or the
verses, they added to the honour of both, by exciting Mr. Addison to
draw his pen in their defence. In order to form a judgment both of the
Criticism, and the Defence, it will be necessary first of all to read
the poem to which they refer, more especially as it is very short, and
may be supposed to have been written suddenly, and, at least, as much
from the author's gratitude to his noble patron, as a desire of adding
to his reputation.
To the EARL of GODOLPHIN.
While weeping Europe bends beneath her ills,
And where the sword destroys not, famine kills;
Our isle enjoys by your successful care,
The pomp of peace amidst the woes of war.
So much the public to your prudence owes,
You think no labours long, for our repose.
Such conduct, such integrity are shewn,
There are no coffers empty, but your own.
From mean dependence, merit you retrieve;
Unask'd you offer, and unseen you give.
Your favour, like the Nile, increase bestows;
And yet conceals the source from whence it flows.
So poiz'd your passions are, we find no frown,
If funds oppress not, and if commerce run,
Taxes diminish'd, liberty entire,
These are the grants your services require.
Thus far the State Machine wants no repair,
But moves in matchless order by your care.
Free from confusion, settled, and serene;
And like the universe by springs unseen.
But now some star, sinister to our pray'rs;
Contrives new schemes, and calls you from affairs.
No anguish in your looks, nor cares appear,
But how to teach th' unpractic'd crew to steer.
Thus like some victim no constraint; you need,
To expiate their offence, by whom you bleed.
Ingratitude's a weed in every clime;
It thrives too fast at first, but fades in time.
The god of day, and your own lot's the same;
The vapours you have rais'd obscure your flame
But tho' you suffer, and awhile retreat,
Your globe of light looks larger as you set.
These verses, however they may express the gratitude, and candour of the
author, and may contain no more than truth of the personage to whom they
are addressed, yet, every reader of taste will perceive, that the verses
are by no means equal to the rest of Dr. Garth's poetical writings.
Remarks upon these verses were published in a Letter to the Examiner,
September 7, 1710. The author observes, 'That there does not appear
either poetry, grammar, or design in the composition of this poem; the
whole (says he) seems to be, as the sixth edition of the Dispensary,
happily expresses it, a strong, unlaboured, impotence of thought. I
freely examine it by the new test of good poetry, which the Dr. himself
has established. Pleasing at first sight: Has this piece the least title
even to that? or if we compare it to the only pattern, as he thinks, of
just writing in this kind, Ovid; is there any thing in De Tristibus so
wild, so childish, so flat? what can the ingenious Dr. mean, or at what
time could he write these verses? half of the poem is a panegyric on a
Lord Treasurer in being, and the rest a compliment of condolance to an
Earl that has lost the Staff. In thirty lines his patron is a river, the
primum mobile, a pilot, a victim, the sun, any thing and nothing. He
bestows increase, conceals his source, makes the machine move, teaches
to steer, expiates our offences, raises vapours, and looks larger as he
sets; nor is the choice of his expression less exquisite, than that of
his similies. For commerce to run[4], passions to be poized, merit to be
received from dependence, and a machine to be serene, is perfectly
new. The Dr. has a happy talent at invention, and has had the glory
of enriching our language by his phrases, as much as he has improved
medicine by his bills.' The critic then proceeds to consider the poem
more minutely, and to expose it by enumerating particulars. Mr. Addison
in a Whig Examiner published September 14, 1710, takes occasion to rally
the fierce over-bearing spirit of the Tory Examiner, which, he says, has
a better title to the name of the executioner. He then enters into the
defence of the Dr's. poem, and observes, 'that the phrase of passions
being poized, and retrieving merit from dependence, cavilled at by the
critics, are beautiful and poetical; it is the same cavilling spirit,
says he, that finds fault with that expression of the Pomp of Peace,
among Woes of War, as well as of Offering unasked.' This general piece
of raillery which he passes on the Dr's. considering the treasurer in
several different views, is that which might fall upon any poem in
Waller, or any other writer who has diversity of thoughts and allusions,
and though it may appear a pleasant ridicule to an ignorant reader, is
wholly groundless and unjust.
Mr. Addison's Answer is, however, upon the whole, rather a palliation,
than a defence. All the skill of that writer could never make that
poetical, or a fine panegyric, which is in its own nature removed
from the very appearance of poetry; but friendship, good nature, or a
coincidence of party, will sometimes engage the greatest men to combat
in defence of trifles, and even against their own judgment, as Dryden
finely expresses it in his Address to Congreve, "Vindicate a friend."
In 1711 Dr. Garth wrote a dedication for an intended edition of
Lucretius, addressed to his late Majesty, then Elector of Brunswick,
which has been admired as one of the purest compositions in the Latin
tongue that our times have produced.
On the accession of that King to the throne, he had the honour of
knighthood conferred upon him by his Majesty, with the duke of
Marlborough's sword[5]. He was likewise made Physician in ordinary to
the King, and Physician General to the army. As his known services
procured him a great interest with those in power, so his humanity and
good nature inclined him to make use of that interest, rather for the
support, and encouragement of men of letters who had merit, than for the
advancement of his private fortune; his views in that respect having
been always very moderate. He lived with the great in that degree of
esteem and independency, and with all that freedom which became a man
possessed of superior genius, and the most shining and valuable talents.
His poem entitled Claremont, addressed to the duke of Newcastle, printed
in the 6th volume of Dryden's Miscellanies, met with great approbation.
A warm admirer of the Doctor's, speaking of Claremont, thus expresses
himself; 'It will survive, says he, the noble structure it celebrates,
'and will remain a perpetual monument of its author's learning, taste,
and great capacity as a poet; since, in that short work, there are
innumerable beauties, and a vast variety of sentiments easily and
happily interwoven; the most lively strokes of satire being intermixed
with the most courtly panegyric, at the same time that there appears the
true spirit of enthusiasm, which distinguishes the works of one born
a poet, from those of a witty, or learned man, that has arrived at no
higher art, than that of making verse[6].' His knowledge in philosophy,
his correct taste in criticism, and his thorough acquaintance in
classical literature, with all the advantages that can be derived from
an exact, but concealed method, an accurate, though flowing stile, and
a language pure, natural, and full of vivacity, appear, says the same
panegyrist in the preface he prefixed to a translation of Ovid's
Metamorphoses, which would have been sufficient to have raised him an
immortal reputation, if it had been the only product of his pen.
Dr. Garth is said to have been a man of the most extensive benevolence;
that his hand and heart went always together: A circumstance more
valuable than all the lustre which genius can confer. We cannot however,
speak of his works with so much warmth, as the author just quoted seems
to indulge. His works will scarce make a moderate volume, and though
they contain many things excellent, judicious, and humorous, yet they
will not justify the writer, who dwells upon them in the same rapturous
strain of admiration, with which we speak of a Horace, a Milton, or a
Pope. He had the happiness of an early acquaintance with some of the
most powerful, wisest, and wittiest men of the age in which he lived; he
attached himself to a party, which at last obtained the ascendant, and
he was equally successful in his fortune as his friends: Persons in
these circumstances are seldom praised, or censured with moderation.
We have already seen how warmly Addison espoused the Dr's. writings,
when they were attacked upon a principle of party, and there are many of
the greatest wits of his time who pay him compliments; amongst the rest
is lord Lansdowne, who wrote some verses upon his illness; but as the
lines do no great honour either to his lordship, or the Dr. we forbear
to insert them.
The following passage is taken from one of Pope's Letters, written upon
the death of Dr. Garth, which, we dare say, will be more acceptable.
'The best natured of men (says he) Sir Samuel Garth has left me in
the truest concern for his loss. His death was very heroical, and yet
unaffected enough to have made a saint, or a philosopher famous. But ill
tongues, and worse hearts have branded his last moments, as wrongfully
as they did his life, with irreligion: you must have heard many tales
upon this subject; but if ever there was a good christian, without
knowing himself to be so, it was Dr. Garth.'
Our author was censured for his love of pleasure, in which perhaps it
would be easier to excuse than defend him; but upon the whole, his
character appears to have been very amiable, particularly, that of his
bearing a tide of prosperity with so much, evenness of temper; and his
universal benevolence, which seems not to have been cramped with party
principles; as appears from his piety towards the remains of Dryden.
He died after a short illness, January 18, 1718-19, and was buried the
22d of the same month in the church of Harrow on the Hill, in the county
of Middlesex, in a vault he caused to be built for himself and his
family[7], leaving behind him an only daughter married to the honourable
colonel William Boyle, a younger son of colonel Henry Boyle, who was
brother to the late, and uncle to the present, earl of Burlington[8].
His estates in Warwickshire, Oxfordshire, and Buckinghamshire, are now
possessed by his grandson, Henry Boyle, Esq; whose amiable qualities
endear him to all who have the happiness of his acquaintance. His works
are collected, and printed in one volume, published by Tonson.
[Footnote 1: Biog. Brit, p. 2129.]
[Footnote 2: See Dryden's Life.]
[Footnote 3: History of the Stewarts, vol. ii. p. 479.]
[Footnote 4: The line here referred to, was omitted in the later
editions of these verses.]
[Footnote 5: Chronol. Diary for A.D. 1714-15.]
[Footnote 6: Biog. Britan, p, 2135.]
[Footnote 7: Chronol. Diary, A.D. 1719.]
[Footnote 8: Collins's Peerage, vol. iv. p. 259.]
* * * * *
NICHOLAS ROWE, Esq;
This excellent poet was descended from an ancient family in Devonshire,
which had for many ages made a very good figure in that county, and was
known by the name of the Rowes of Lambertowne. Mr. Rowe could trace his
ancestors in a direct line up to the times of the holy war, in which one
of them so distinguished himself, that at his return he had the arms
given him, which the family has born ever since, that being in those
days all the reward of military virtue, or of blood spilt in those
expeditions.
From that time downward to Mr. Rowe's father, the family betook
themselves to the frugal management of a private fortune, and the
innocent pleasures of a country life. Having a handsome estate, they
lived beyond the fear of want, or reach of envy. In all the changes of
government, they are said to have ever leaned towards the side of public
liberty, and in that retired situation of life, nave beheld with grief
and concern the many encroachments that have been made in it from time
to time.
Our author was born at Little Berkford in Bedfordshire, at the house of
Jasper Edwards, Esq; his mother's father, in the year 1673[1]. He began
his education at a private grammar-school in Highgate; but the taste he
there acquired of the classic authors, was improved, and finished under
the care of the famous Dr. Busby of Westminster school; where, about the
age of 12 years, he was chosen one of the King's scholars. Besides
his skill in the Latin and Greek languages, he had made a tolerable
proficiency in the Hebrew; but poetry was his early bent, and darling
study. He composed, at different times, several copies of verses upon
various subjects both in Greek and Latin, and some in English, which
were much admired, and the more so, because they were produced with so
much facility, and seemed to flow from his imagination, as fast as from
his pen.
His father, who was a Serjeant at Law, designing him for his own
profession, took him from that school when he was about sixteen years of
age, and entered him a student in the Middle Temple, whereof himself
was a member, that he might have him under his immediate care and
instruction. Being capable of any part knowledge, to which he thought
proper to apply, he made very remarkable advances in the study of the
Law, and was not content to know it, as a collection of statutes, or
customs only, but as a system founded upon right reason, and calculated
for the good of mankind. Being afterwards called to the bar, he
promised as fair to make a figure in that profession, as any of his
cotemporaries, if the love of the Belles Lettres, and that of poetry in
particular, had not stopped him in his career. To him there appeared
more charms in Euripides, Sophocles, and Aeschilus, than in all the
records of antiquity, and when he came to discern the beauties of
Shakespear and Milton, his soul was captivated beyond recovery, and he
began to think with contempt of all other excellences, when put in the
balance with the enchantments of poetry and genius. Mr. Rowe had the
best opportunities of rising to eminence in the Law, by means of the
patronage of Sir George Treby, Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas,
who was fond of him to a very great degree, and had it in his power to
promote him; but being overcome by his propension to poetry, and his
first tragedy, called the Ambitious Step-mother, meeting with universal
applause, he laid aside all thoughts of the Law. The Ambitious
Step-mother was our author's first attempt in the drama, written by him
in the 25th year of his age, and dedicated to the earl of Jersey.
'The purity of the language (says Mr. Welwood) the justness of his
characters, the noble elevation of the sentiments, were all of them
admirably adapted to the plan of the play.'
The Ambitious Step-mother, being the first, is conducted with less
judgment than any other of Rowe's tragedies; it has an infinite deal of
fire in it, the business is precipitate, and the characters active, and
what is somewhat remarkable, the author never after wrote a play with so
much elevation. Critics have complained of the sameness of his poetry;
that he makes all his characters speak equally elegant, and has not
attended sufficiently to the manners. This uniformity of versification,
in the opinion of some, has spoiled our modern tragedies, as poetry
is made to supply nature, and declamation characters. Whether this
observation is well founded, we shall not at present examine, only
remark, that if any poet has a right to be forgiven for this error, Mr.
Rowe certainly has, as his cadence is the sweetest in the world, his
sentiments chaste, and his language elegant. Our author wrote several
other Tragedies, but that which he valued himself most upon,
says Welwood, was his Tamerlane; acted at the Theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, and dedicated to the marquis of Hartington.
In this play, continues Welwood, 'He aimed at
a parallel between the late king William and
Tamerlane, and also Bajazet, and a monarch who
is since dead. That glorious ambition in Tamerlane,
to break the chains of enslaved nations, and
set mankind free from the encroachments of lawless
power, are painted in the most lively, as well
as the most amiable colours. On the other side,
his manner of introducing on the stage a prince,
whose chief aim is to perpetuate his name to posterity,
by that havock and ruin he scatters through
the world, are all drawn with that pomp of horror,
and detestation, which such monstrous actions
deserve. And, since nothing could be more
calculated for raising in the minds of the audience
a true passion for liberty, and a just abhorrence of
slavery, how this play came to be discouraged,
next to a prohibition, in the latter end of queen
Anne's reign, I leave it to others to give a reason.'
Thus far Dr. Welwood, who has endeavoured to point out the similiarity
of the character of Tamerlane, to that of king William. Though it is
certainly true, that the Tamerlane of Rowe contains grander sentiments
than any of his other plays; yet, it may be a matter of dispute whether
Tamerlane ought to give name to the play; for Tamerlane is victorious,
and Bajazet the sufferer. Besides the fate of these two monarchs, there
is likewise contained in it, the Episode of Moneses, and Arpasia, which
is of itself sufficiently distressful to make the subject of a tragedy.
The attention is diverted from the fall of Bajazet, which ought to have
been the main design, and bewildered in the fortunes of Moneses, and
Arpasia, Axalla and Selima: There are in short, in this play, events
enough for four; and in the variety and importance of them, Tamerlane
and Bajazet must be too much neglected. All the characters of a play
should be subordinate to the leading one, and their business in the
drama subservient to promote his fate; but this performance is not the
tragedy of Bajazet, or Tamerlane only; but likewise the tragedies of
Moneses and Arpasia, Axala and Selima. It is now performed annually, on
the 4th and 5th of November, in commemoration of the Gun-powder Treason,
and the landing of king William in this realm, when an occasional
prologue is spoken.
Another tragedy of Mr. Rowe's is the Fair Penitent, acted at the Theatre
in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields; and dedicated to the duchess of Ormond: This is
one of the most finished performances of our author. The character of
Sciolto the father is strongly marked; Horatio's the most amiable of all
characters, and is so sustained as to strike an audience very forcibly.
In this, as in the former play, Mr. Rowe is guilty of a mis-nomer; for
his Calista has not the least claim to be called the Fair Penitent,
which would be better changed to the Fair Wanton; for she discovers not
one pang of remorse till the last act, and that seems to arise more
from the external distress to which she is then exposed, than to any
compunctions of conscience. She still loves and doats on her base
betrayer, though a most insignificant creature. In this character, Rowe
has been true to the sex, in drawing a woman, as she generally is, fond
of her seducer; but he has not drawn drawn a Penitent. The character
of Altamont is one of those which the present players observe, is the
hardest to represent of any in the drama; there is a kind of meanness in
him, joined with an unsuspecting honest heart, and a doating fondness
for the false fair one, that is very difficult to illustrate: This part
has of late been generally given to performers of but very moderate
abilities; by which the play suffers prodigiously, and Altamont, who is
really one of the most important persons in the drama, is beheld with
neglect, or perhaps with contempt; but seldom with pity. Altamont,
in the hands of a good actor, would draw the eyes of the audience,
notwithstanding the blustering Lothario, and the superior dignity of
Horatio; for there is something in Altamont, to create our pity, and
work upon our compassion.
So many players failing of late, in the this character, leaves it a
matter of doubt, whether the actor is more mistaken in his performance;
or the manager in the distribution of parts.
The next tragedy Mr. Rowe wrote was his Ulysses, acted at the queen's
Theatre, in the Hay Market, and dedicated to the earl of Godolphin. This
play is not at present in possession of the stage, though it deserves
highly to be so, as the character of Penelope, is an excellent example
of conjugal fidelity: Who, though her lord had been ten years absent
from her, and various accounts had been given of his death, yet,
notwithstanding this, and the addresses of many royal suitors, she
preserved her heart for her Ulysses, who at last triumphed over his
enemies, and rescued his faithful queen from the persecution of her
wooers.--This play has business, passion, and tragic propriety to
recommend it.--.
The next play Mr. Rowe brought upon the stage, was his Royal Convert,
acted at the queen's Theatre, in the Haymarket, and dedicated to the
earl of Hallifax.
His next was the Tragedy of Jane Shore, written in imitation of
Shakespear's stile; acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane, and
dedicated to the duke of Queensberry and Dover. How Mr. Rowe could
imagine that this play is written at all in imitation of Shakespear's
stile, we cannot conceive; for so far as we are able to judge, it bears
not the least resemblance to that of Shakespear. The conduct of the
design is regular, and in that sense it partakes not of Shakespear's
wildness; the poetry is uniform, which marks it to be Rowe's, but in
that it is very different from Shakespear, whose excellency does
not consist merely in the beauty of soft language, or nightingale
descriptions; but in the general power of his drama, the boldness of the
images, and the force of his characters.