The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland Volume III Part 14

My friends are riches, health, and all to me; And while they're mine I cannot wretched be.

MARISSA.

If I on you could happiness bestow, I still the toils of life would undergo, Would still contentedly my lot sustain, And never more of my hard fate complain: But since my life to you will useless prove, O let me hasten to the joys above: Farewel, farewel, take, take my last adieu, May Heaven be more propitious still to you, May you live happy when I'm in my grave, And no misfortunes, no afflictions have: If to sad objects you'll some pity lend And give a sigh to an unhappy friend, Think of Marissa, and her wretched state, How's she's been us'd by her malicious fate; Recount those storms which she has long sustain'd, And then rejoice that she the part has gain'd; The welcome haven of eternal rest, Where she shall be for ever, ever bless'd; And in her mother's, and her daughter's arms Shall meet with new, with unexperienc'd charms, O how I long those dear delights to taste; Farewel, farewel, my soul is much in haste.

Come death; and give the kind releasing blow, I'm tir'd of life, and overcharg'd with woe: In thy cool silent, unmolested shade O let me be by their dear relics laid; And there with them from all my troubles free, Enjoy the blessing of a long tranquillity.

LUCINDA.

O thou dear sufferer, on my breast recline Thy drooping head, and mix thy tears with mine: Here rest awhile, and make a truce with grief: Consider; sorrow brings you no relief.

In the great play of life, we must not chuse, Nor yet the meanest character refuse.

Like soldiers we our general must obey, Must stand our ground, and not to fear give way, But go undaunted on'till we have won the day.

Honour is ever the reward of pain, A lazy virtue no applause will gain.

All such as to uncommon heights would rise, And on the wings of fame ascend the skies, Must learn the gifts of fortune to despise; They to themselves their bliss must still confine, Must be unmoved, and never once repine: But few to this perfection can attain, Our pa.s.sions often will th' ascendant gain, And reason but alternately does reign; Disguised by pride we sometimes seem to bear A haughty port, and scorn to shed a tear; While grief within still acts a tragic part, And plays the tyrant in the bleeding heart.

Your sorrow is of the severest kind, And can't be wholly to your soul confin'd, Losses like yours may be allowed to move A gen'rous mind, that knows what 'tis to love.

These afflictions;- Will teach you patience, and the careful skill To rule your pa.s.sions, and command your will; To bear afflictions with a steady mind, Still to be easy, pleas'd, and still resign'd, And look as if you did no inward sorrow find.

MARISSA.

I know Lucinda this I ought to do, But oh! 'tis hard my frailties to subdue; My headstrong pa.s.sions will resistance make, And all my firmed resolutions make.

I for my daughter's death did long prepare, And hop'd I should the stroke with temper bear, But when it came grief quickly did prevail, And I soon found my boasted courage fail: Yet still I strove, but 'twas alas! in vain, My sorrow did at length th' ascendant gain: But I'm resolv'd I will no longer yield; By reason led, I'll once more take the field, And there from my insulting pa.s.sions try, To gain a full, a glorious victory: Which 'till I've done, I never will give o'er But still fight on, and think of peace no more; With an unwearied courage still contend, 'Till death, or conquest, doth my labour end.

[Footnote 1: Preface to her Essays.]

THOMAS CREECH.

This gentleman was born near Sherborne in Dorsetshire, and bred up at the free school in that town, under Mr. Carganven, a man of eminent character, to whom in grat.i.tude he inscribes one of the Idylliums of Theocritus, translated by him. His parents circ.u.mstances not being sufficient to bestow a liberal education upon him, colonel Strangeways, who was himself a man of taste and literature, took notice of the early capacity of Creech, and being willing to indulge his violent propensity to learning, placed him at Wadham College in Oxford, in the 16th year of his age, anno 1675, being then put under the tuition of two of the fellows. In the year 1683 he was admitted matter of arts, and soon elected fellow of All-soul's College; at which time he gave distinguished proofs of his cla.s.sical learning, and philosophy, before those who were appointed his examiners. The first work which brought our author into reputation, was his translation of Lucretius, which succeeded so well, that Mr. Creech had a party formed for him, who ventured to prefer him to Mr. Dryden, in point of genius. Mr. Dryden himself highly commended his Lucretius, and in his preface to the second volume of Poetical Miscellanies thus characterises it. 'I now call to mind what I owe to the ingenious, and learned translator of Lucretius. I have not here designed to rob him of any part of that commendation, which he has so justly acquired by the whole author, whose fragments only fall to my portion. The ways of our translation are very different; he follows him more closely than I have done, which became an interpreter to the whole poem. I take more liberty, because it best suited with my design, which was to make him as pleasing as I could. He had been too voluminous, had he used my method, in so long a work; and I had certainly taken his, had I made it my business to translate the whole. The preference then is justly his; and I join with Mr. Evelyn in the confession of it, with this additional advantage to him, that his reputation is already established in this poet; mine is to make its fortune in the world. If I have been any where obscure in following our common author; or if Lucretius himself is to be condemned, I refer myself to his excellent annotations, which I have often read, and always with some pleasure.'

Many poets of the first cla.s.s, of those times, addressed Mr. Creech in commendatory verses, which are prefixed to the translation of Lucretius: but this sudden blaze of reputation was soon obscured, by his failing in an arduous task, which the success of his Lucretius prompted him to attempt. This was a translation of the works of Horace, an author more diversified, and consequently more difficult than Lucretius. Some have insinuated, that Mr. Dryden, jealous of his rising fame, and willing to take advantage of his vanity, in order to sink his reputation, strenuously urged him to this undertaking, in which he was morally certain Creech could not succeed. Horace is so, various, so exquisite, and perfectly delightful, that he who culls flowers in a garden so replenished with nature's productions, must be well acquainted with her form, and able to delineate her beauties. In this attempt Creech failed, and a shade was thrown over his reputation, which continued to obscure it to the end of his life. It is from this circ.u.mstance alleged, that Mr. Creech contracted a melancholy, and moroseness of temper, which occasioned the disinclination of many towards him, and threw him into habits of recluseness, and discontent. To this some writers likewise impute the rash attempt on his own life, which he perpetrated at Oxford, in 1701. This act of suicide could not be occasioned by want, for Mr. Jacob tells us, that just before that accident, he had been presented by the college to the living of Welling in Hertfordshire. Mr. Barnard in his Nouvelles de la Republiques de Lettres, a.s.signs another cause besides the diminution of his fame, which might occasion this disastrous fate. Mr. Creech, though a melancholy man, was yet subject to the pa.s.sion of love. It happened that he fixed his affections on a lady who had either previously engaged hers, or who could not bestow them upon him; this disappointment, which was a wound to his pride, so affected his mind, that, unable any longer to support a load of misery, he hanged himself in his own chamber. Which ever of these causes induced him, the event was melancholy, and not a little heightened by his being a clergyman, in whose heart religion should have taken deeper root, and maintained a more salutary influence, than to suffer him thus to stain his laurels with his own blood.

Mr. Creech's works, besides his Lucretius already mentioned, are chiefly these,

The Second Elegy of Ovid's First Book of Elegies. The 6th, 7th, 8th, and 12th Elegies of Ovid's Second Book of Elegies. The 2d and 3d Eclogue of Virgil. The Story of Lucretia, from Ovid de Fastis. B. ii. The Odes, Satires, and Epistles of Horace already mentioned, dedicated to John Dryden, esq; who is said to have held it in great contempt, which gave such a shock to Mr. Creech's pride. The author in his preface to this translation has informed us, that he had not an ear capable of distinguishing one note in music, which, were there no other, was a sufficient objection against his attempting the most musical poet in any language.

The same year he published his Translation of the Idylliums of Theocritus, with Rapin's Discourse on Pastorals, as also the Life of Phelopidas, from the Latin of Cornelius Nepos.

In Dryden's Translation of Juvenal and Persius, Mr. Creech did the 13th Satire of Juvenal, and subjoined Notes. He also translated into English, the verses before Mr. Quintenay's Compleat Gardiner. The Life of Solon, from the Greek of Plutarch. Laconic Apophthegms, or Remarkable Sayings of the Spartans, printed in the first Volume of Plutarch's Morals. A Discourse concerning Socrates's Daemon. The two First Books of the Symposiacs.

These are the works of Mr. Creech: A man of such parts and learning, according to the accounts of all who have written of him, that, had he not by the last act of his life effaced the merit of his labours, he would have been an ornament as well to the clerical profession, as his country in general. He well understood the ancients, had an unusual penetration in discovering their beauties, and it appears by his own translation of Lucretius, how elegantly he could cloath them in an English attire. His judgment was solid; he was perfectly acquainted with the rules of criticism, and he had from nature an extraordinary genius. However, he certainly over-rated his importance, or at lead his friends deceived him, when they set him up as a rival to Dryden! but if he was inferior to that great man in judgment, and genius, there were few of the same age to whom he needed yield the palm. Had he been content to be reckoned only the second, instead of the first genius of the times, he might have lived happy, and died regreted and reverenced, but like Caesar of old, who would rather be the lord of a little village, than the second man in Rome, his own ambition overwhelmed him.

We shall present the reader with a few lines from the second Book of Lucretius, as a specimen of our author's versification, by which it will be found how much he fell short of Dryden in point of harmony, though he seems to have been equal to any other poet, who preceded Dryden, in that particular.

'Tis pleasant, when the seas are rough, to stand, And view another's danger, safe at land: Not 'cause he's troubled, but 'tis sweet to see Those cares and fears, from which our selves are free.

'Tis also pleasant to behold from far How troops engage, secure ourselves from war.

But above all, 'tis pleasantest to get The top of high philosophy, and sit On the calm, peaceful, flourishing head of it: Whence we may view, deep, wondrous deep below, How poor mistaken mortals wand'ring go, Seeking the path to happiness: some aim At learning, wit, n.o.bility, or fame: Others with cares and dangers vex each hour To reach the top of wealth, and sov'reign pow'r: Blind wretched man! in what dark paths of strife We walk this little journey of our life!

While frugal nature seeks for only ease; A body free from pains, free from disease; A mind from cares and jealousies at peace.

And little too is needful to maintain The body sound in health, and free from pain: Not delicates, but such as may supply Contented nature's thrifty luxury: She asks no more. What tho' no boys of gold Adorn the walls, and sprightly tapers hold, Whose beauteous rays, scatt'ring the gawdy light, Might grace the feast, and revels of the night: What tho' no gold adorns; no music's sound With double sweetness from the roofs rebound; Yet underneath a loving myrtle's shade, Hard by a purling stream supinely laid, When spring with fragrant flow'rs the earth has spread, And sweetest roses grow around our head; Envy'd by wealth and pow'r, with small expence We may enjoy the sweet delights of sense.

Who ever heard a fever tamer grown In cloaths embroider'd o'er, and beds of down.

Than in coa.r.s.e rags?

Since then such toys as these Contribute nothing to the body's ease, As honour, wealth, and n.o.bleness of blood, 'Tis plain they likewise do the mind no good: If when thy fierce embattell'd troops at land Mock-fights maintain; or when thy navies Hand In graceful ranks, or sweep the yielding seas, If then before such martial fights as these, Disperse not all black jealousies and cares, Vain dread of death, and superst.i.tious fears Not leave thy mind; but if all this be vain, If the same cares, and dread, and fears remain, If Traytor-like they seize thee on the throne, And dance within the circle of a crown; If noise of arms, nor darts can make them fly, Nor the gay sparklings of the purple dye.

If they on emperors will rudely seize, What makes us value all such things as these, But folly, and dark ignorance of happiness?

For we, as boys at night, by day do fear Shadows as vain, and senseless as those are.

Wherefore that darkness, which o'erspreads our fouls, Day can't disperse; but those eternal rules, Which from firm premises true reason draws, And a deep insight into nature's laws.

ARTHUR MAYNWARING, Esq;

A Gentleman distinguished both for poetry and politics, as well as the gay accomplishments of life. He was born at Ightfield, in the year 1668, and educated at the grammar-school at Shrewsbury, where he remained four or five years; and at about seventeen years of age, was removed to Christ's Church in Oxford, under the tuition of Mr. George Smalridge, afterwards bishop of Bristol. After he removed from Oxford, he went into Cheshire, where he lived several years with his uncle, Mr. Francis Cholmondley, a gentleman of great integrity and honour; but by a political prejudice, very averse to the government of William the IIId, to whom he refused to take the oaths, and instilled anti-revolution principles into his nephew,[1] who embraced them warmly; and on his first entry into life, reduced to practice what he held in speculation. He wrote several pieces in favour of James the IId's party: amongst which was a Panegyric on that King. He wrote another int.i.tled the King of Hearts, to ridicule lord Delamere's entry into London, at his first coming to town after the revolution. This poem was said to be Dryden's, who was charged with it by Mr. Tonson; but he disowned it, and told him it was written by an ingenious young gentleman, named Maynwaring, then about twenty two years of age.

When our author was introduced to the acquaintance of the duke of Somerset, and the earls of Dorset, and Burlington, he began to entertain (says Oldmixon) very different notions of politics: Whether from the force of the arguments made use of by those n.o.blemen; or, from a desire of preferment, which he plainly saw lay now upon the revolution interest, cannot be determined; but he espoused the Whig ministry, as zealously as he had formerly struggled for the exiled monarch.

Our author studied the law till he was five or six and twenty years old, about which time his father died, and left him an estate of near eight-hundred pounds a year, but so inc.u.mbred, that the interest money amounted to almost as much as the revenue. Upon the conclusion of the peace of Ryswick, he went to Paris, where he became acquainted with Monsieur Boileau, who invited him to his country house, entertained him very elegantly, and spoke much to him of the English poetry, but all by way of enquiry; for he affected to be as ignorant of the English Muse, as if our nation had been as barbarous as the Laplanders.

A gentleman, a friend of Mr. Maynwaring, visiting him some time after, upon the death of Mr. Dryden 'Boileau, said that he was wonderfully pleased to see by the public papers, that the English nation had paid so extraordinary honours to one of their poets, burying him at the public charge;' and then asked the gentleman who that poet was, with as much indifference as if he had never heard Dryden's name; which he could no more be unacquainted with, than our country was with his; for he often frequented lord Montague's house, when he was emba.s.sador in France, and being also an intimate friend of Monsieur De la Fontaine, who had spent some time in England, it was therefore impossible he could be ignorant of the fame of Dryden; but it is peculiar to that nation to hold all others in contempt. The French would as fain monopolize wit, as the wealth and power of Europe; but thanks to the arms and genius of Britain, they have attempted both the one and the other without success.

Boileau's pretending not to know Dryden, to use the words of Milton, 'argued himself unknown.' But perhaps a reason may be a.s.signed, why the wits of France affected a contempt for Mr. Dryden, which is this. That poet, in many of his Prefaces and Dedications, has unanswerably shewn, that the French writers are really deficient in point of genius;' that the correctness for which they are remarkable, and that even pace which they maintain in all their dramatic compositions, is a proof that they are not capable of sublime conceptions; that they never rise to any degree of elevation, and are in truth uninspired by the muses:-Judgment they may have to plan and conduct their designs; but few French poets have ever found the way of writing to the heart. Have they attained the sublime height of Shakespear, the tenderness of Otway, or the pomp of Rowe? and yet these are names which a French versifier will pretend, with an air of contempt, never to have heard of.

The truth is, our poets have lately done the French too much honour, by translating their pieces, and bringing them on the stage; as if our own stock was exhausted and the British genius had failed: But it is some satisfaction that these attempts seem now to be discouraged; we have seen a late play of theirs (we call it a play, for it was neither a tragedy nor a comedy) translated by a languid poet of our own, received with the coolness it deserved.

But to return to Mr. Maynwaring. Upon his arrival in England, from France, he was made one of the commissioners of the customs, in which post he distinguished himself by his skill and fidelity. Of the latter of these qualities we have an instance, in his treatment of a man, who sollicited to be a tide-waiter: Somebody had told him that his best way to succeed would be to make a present. The advice had been perhaps good enough if he had not mistaken his man. For understanding that Mr. Maynwaring had the best interest at the board of any of the commissioners, with the lords of the treasury; he sent him a letter, with a purse of fifty-guineas, desiring his favour towards obtaining the place he sollicited: Afterwards he delivered a pet.i.tion to the board, which was read, and several of the commissioners having spoke to it, Mr. Maynwaring took out the purse of fifty guineas, and the letter, telling them that as long as he could prevent it, that man should never have this, or any other place in the revenue[2].

Mr. Maynwaring was admitted a member of the Kit-Kat Club, and was considered as one of the chief ornaments of it, by his pleasantry and wit.

In the beginning of queen Anne's reign, lord treasurer G.o.dolphin, engaged Mr. Donne, to quit the office of auditor of the imprests, his lordship paying him several thousand pounds for his doing it, and he never let Mr. Maynwaring know what he was doing for him, till he made him a present of a patent for that office, worth about two-thousand pounds a year in time of business. In the Parliament which met in 1705, our author was chosen a burgess for Preston in Lancashire[3].

He had a considerable share in the Medley, and was author of several other pieces, of which we shall presently give some account.

He died at St. Albans, November the 13th, 1712, having some time before made his will; in which he left Mrs. Oldfield, the celebrated actress his executrix, by whom he had a son, named Arthur Maynwaring. He divided his estate pretty equally between that child, Mrs. Oldfield, and his sister; Mr. Oldmixon tells us, that Mr. Maynwaring loved this actress, for nine or ten years before his death, with the strongest pa.s.sion: It was in some measure owing to his instructions that she became so finished a player; for he understood the action of the stage as well as any man, and took great pleasure to see her excell in it. He wrote several Prologues and Epilogues for her, and would always hear her rehea.r.s.e them in private, before she spoke them on the stage. His friends of both s.e.xes quarrelled with him for his attachment to her, and so much resented it, that Mrs. Oldfield frequently remonstrated to him, that it was for his honour and interest to break off the intrigue: which frankness and friendship of hers, did, as he often confessed, but engage him the more firmly; and all his friends at last gave over importuning him to leave her, as she gained more and more upon him.

In honour of our author, Mr. Oldmixon observes, that he had an abhorrence of those that swore, or talked profanely in conversation. He looked upon it as a poor pretence to wit, and never excused it in himself or others.-I have already observed, that our author had a share in the Medley, a paper then set up in favour of the Hanoverian succession, in which he combats the Examiner, who wrote on the opposite, or, at least, the High-Church Interest.

He also wrote the following pieces.

1. Remarks on a late Romance, int.i.tled the Memorial of the Church of England, or the History of the Ten Champions.

2. A Translation of the second Ode, of the first book of Horace.

3. A Translation of the fifth Book of Ovid's Metamorphoses.

4. A Character of the new Ministers, 1710.

5. Several Songs, Poems, Prologues and Epilogues.

6. There was a Ma.n.u.script given him to peruse, which contained Memoirs of the duke of Marlborough's famous march to Blenheim: It was written by a chaplain of the duke's, with great exactness as to the incidents, but was defective in form. Mr. Maynwaring was desired to alter and improve it, which he found too difficult a task; but being greatly pleased with the particular account of all that pa.s.s'd in that surprizing march, he resolved that it should not be lost, and to give it a new and more perfect form himself, by reducing a kind of diary into a regular history. These papers fell into the hands of Sir Richard Steel.

7. A Translation of part of Tully's Offices.

8. Four Letters to a Friend in North-Britain, written upon the publishing Dr. Sacheveral's Trial.

9. The History of Hannibal, and Hanno, from the best authors: In this piece he is supposed to intend by Hannibal, the duke of Marlborough; by Hanno, the lord treasurer Oxford, by Valerius Flaccus, count Tallard, and by Asdrubal, Dr. Robinson, bishop of Bristol.

10. The Speech of Alcibiades to the Athenians, printed in the Whig-Examiner, Numb. 3.