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THE
BRITISH PLUTARCH,
CONTAINING
THE LIVES
OP THE MOST EMINENT

DIVINES,
PATRIOTS,
STATESMEN, WARRIORS,

PHILOSOPHERS, POETS, AND
ARTISTS,

OF

GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND,
PEOM
THE ACCESSION OF HENRY VIII. TO THE PRESENT TIME.

RE-AURANGED AND ENRICHED WITH SEVERAL
ADDITIONAL LIVES,
BY THE
REV. FRANCIS WRANGHAM, M.A. F.R.S.
OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

IN SIX VOLUMES,
VOL. V.

Triumph, my Britain! Thou hast those to show.
To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe. (JoNsoir,)
Tt; |urt]<reT«i; {Mseh. *eWI. im S»f. 431.)

LONDON:
PRINTED FOR J. MAWMAN, LUDGATE STREET; AND FOR
BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY, PATERNOSTER ROW.
' 1816.

C. Baldwin, Printer,
New Bridge Street, LiOiidon.

CONTENTS

FIFTH VOLUME.

Born

Died Page

LXVIII.

John Locke 

. (1632-

-1704) 1

LXIX.

Sir George Rooke.

. (1650-

-1709) 37

LXX.

Sir John Holt ....

. (1642-

-1709)^48

LXXI.

Gilbert Burnet, ,

. (1643-

-1715) '64

LXXII.

John Flamsteed. . ,

. (1646-

-1719) 107

LXXIII.

Joseph Addison.. . .

. (1672-

-1719) 114

LXXIV.

Matthew Prior. . .

. (1664-

-1721) 144

LXXV.

John Churchill, Duke

of Marlborough.
. (1650-
-1722) 163
LXXVI.
Sir ChristopherJVren{1632-
-1723) 191
LXXVII.
Robert Harley, Earl
qf Oxford and
Mortimer, .....
. (1661-
-1724) 218
LXXVIII.
Sir Isaac Newton .
. (1642-
-1726) 245
LXXIX.
Sir Richard Steele.
. (1676-
-1729) 280
LXXX.
Francis Atterbury.
. (1662-
-1731) 306
LXXXI.
Samuel Clarke 
. (1675-
-1729) 344,
LXXXII.
Richard Bentley. . .
. (1662-
-1742) 365
LXXXIII.
Alexander Pope. . .
. (1688-
-1744) 415
LXXXIV.
Jonathan Swift,, . .
. (1667-
-1745) 465
THE
BRITISH PLUTARCH.

JOHN LOCKE *

[1632—1704.]

tl OHN LOCKE was bom at Wrington, in Somer
setshire, in 1632.
During his infancy, his education was conducted
with paternal affection, but at the same time with
great strictness, by his father ; who, having been bred
to the law, was Steward or Court-Keeper to Colonel
Alexander Popham, and upon the breaking out of
the civil wars became a Captain iri the parliamentary
army. v
The first part of his learning he received at
Westminster School, whence at nineteen he removed
to Christ Church, Oxford. He became subsequently
a Student of that college, and distinguished himself
* AuTHOKiTiES. Biographia Britannica, General Biographical
Dictionary, Le Clerc's BibliotMque Choisie, and Towers' f^indi-
cation of the Political Principles qf Mr. Locke,
VOL. V. B

2 JOHN LOCKE.
by two indifferent copies of verses upon Cromwell's
peace with the Dutch.*
* He wrote both in Latin and English. The collection,
• Musarum Oxoniensium EA«i»$«pi«' (Ox. leS*) in which these
compositions are preserved, contains also verses by Crewe, p. 25,
South, p. 40, and Godolphin, p. 36, 99, who all successively made
peace with the Stuarts ; whereas Locke never sang his ipalinode
on the return of that family, to whom he owed nothing but
persecution. His English verses are entirely in praise of peace : See the
Extracts. His Latin, addressed to Cromwell, are ;
Pax regit Augusti, quem iiicit Julius, orhemt
Ille sago f actus clarior, ille toga.
Hos sua Roma vocat magnos, et numina credit :
Hie quod sit mundi Victor, et ille Quies.
Tu bellum et pacem popidis das, unus rdrisque
Major es : ipse orbem vincis, et ipse regis.
Non hominem, e ccslo missum te credimus, unus
Sicpoteras binos qui superare Deos!
IMITATED.
* Augustus in pacific order sway'd
The world, that Julius' conquering arms obey'd :
One by his sword achieved a mighty name.
And one the meed acquired of civic fame.
Applauding Rome proclaira'd them deities;
This for wise rule, and that for victories.
Thou, sovereign prince, to both superior far,
Guidest in peace the world thou'st gain'd by war.
From heaven we hail thee, of no mortal race.
Who can'st alone two deities surpass.' F, W.
Other verses also by Busby, Markham, and Lewis Atterbury
(all of Christ Churph) beside many copies subscribed only,
through modesty— or prudence, with initials occur in this collec
tion ; and it is prefaced and introduced by the compositions, in
prose and verse, of Dr. John Owen (the celebrated aintagonist
of Bishop Walton) who was, in 1654, Vice-Chancellor of Oxford.
The < Olim Pacis,' a title including probably an aUusion to th«

JOHN LOCKE. 3
Having taken at the regular periods both his
degrees in Arts^ he placed himself upon the physicn
line, in which profession he practised for a short
time at Oxford ; but finding his constitution unable
to bear the fatigue of much business, and being
highly delighted with the philosophy of Des Cartes,
he transferred his studies to that branch of science.*
In the system, indeed, at that time prevalent in
Oxford, Locke found little satisfaction. Scholastic
disputations were fashionable at both Universities;
and the only philosophy taught on the banks of the
Isis, the Peripatetic, was perplexed with obscure
Christian name of the Protector, includes verses from Seaman,
Vice-Chancellor and Master of Peter House ; Arrowsmith of
Trinity, Begins Professor of Divinity ; Tuckney of St. John's ;
Horton of Queen's (no fewer than five distinct copies !) ; Which-
cot of King's ; Cudworth of Clare-Hall a-ajsTS SusAuicaToi;, and
Dillingham of Emanuel (three copies). The last extravar
gantly represents the naval war as having set the sea a boiling,
and produced a natural, though not very poetical consequence :
• Q.uis Juror est igni totumjervescere pontum,
Et mitti coctos mcina ad litora pisces ?
' What madness, with flames to heat ocean's cold breast.
And send to our neighbours their fish ready drest ! '
F. W.
J. Duport also, with his ready muse, contributes upon the
occasion ; and one of the cautious, J. V. of Trinity CoUege,
begins his address to Cromwell with
X«if' AylMiv Zturt?iiu (tho-m ^£^«x»( i)i% fiiWOMUi,
Ou ^tfjuiTe* TdTTiH tStojiiH jUiixferEfw)
X«l(', it. T, A.
* This is stated on the sole authority of Le Clerc, who
being very intimate with Locke, possibly had it from his own
raouth.
B 2

4 JOHN LOCKE.
terms and useless quesf;ions, calculated only to fur
nish matter of controversy. In the room of Aristotle,
he substituted several hypotheses from Des Cartes.
This writer had now for a considerable period been
followed in Holland and at Geneva, and had capti
vated many others, as well as Mr. Locke, with the
variety and perspicuity of his stUe, which was ad
mired even by those who did not approve his con
clusions. In 1664, he had an opportunity of going abroad,
as Secretary to Sir William Swan, who was ap
pointed Envoy to the Elector of Brandenburgh and
some other German Princes.
The year following he returned to Oxford, where
he continued to improve his knowledge in natural
philosophy and physic ; and more particularly, in
1666, he concurred in a plan devised by Dr. Plott
for keeping a register of the air, in order to perfect
the history of what the physicians call the ' Non-
naturals.' This he printed at the end of a post
humous piece of Mr. Boyle's, entitled A General
History of the Air,' under the name of ' A Register
of the Changes of the Air observed at Oxford by
the Barometer, Thermometer, and Hygrometer from
June 23, 1660, to March 28, 1667.'
He was thus temployed, when accident brought
him acquainted with Antony Ashley Cooper, after
ward Earl of Shaftesbury. His Lordship having
an abscess in his breast, occasioned by a fall, was
advised to drink the Astrop waters. The physician,
whom he had desired by letter to have some of these
waters ready for him upon his arrival, being engaged
with other patients at Oxford, his application was

JOHN LOCKE. 5
transferred to Mr. Locke : and he. faiUng to procure
them as requested, waited upon his Lordship the
day following, to excuse the disappointment. Lord
Ashley received him with great civility, and deUghted
with his conversation not only detained him to sup
per, but also engaged him to dinner the next day,
and even to drink the waters, Locke having ex
pressed some intention of that kind, that he might
have more of his society.
This nobleman now became his declared patron :
he took him into his house, and soon afterward by
his advice submitted to the opening of his abscess.
He would not even suffer him to practise physic
out of his own family, except among his particular
friends; and introduced him to several statesmen
of his acquaintance, who showed him extraordinary
respect, and urged him to direct his appUcation
chiefly to the subject of poUtics.
Three or four of these illustrious characters, as
Le Clerc informs us, having met at Lord Ashley's,
rather for amusement than business, after a few short
remarks sat down to cards. Mr. Locke looked on for
some lime while they were at play, and then taking
out his pocket-book, began to write with great at
tention. One of the company inquiring what was
his subject ; " My Lord," said he, " I am endeavour
ing to profit, as far as I am capable, in your com
pany: for having waited with impatience for the
honour of being in an assembly of the most eminent
geniusses of the age, and having at length obtained
this good fortune, I thought I could not do better
than write down your conversation ; and, indeed, I
have noted the substance of what has been said for
this hour or two." He had no occasion to read much

6 JOHN LOCKE.
of his dialogue : they felt the ridicule, and quitting
their game entered upon a more rational species of
intercourse. In 1668, he attended the Countess of Northum
berland into France; but an unforeseen accident
obUging him after a ishort stay to return td England,
and Lord Ashley having about this time jointly with
some others obtained a grant of CaroUna, Locke was
employed to draw up the Fundamental Constitutions
of that province. The articles relative to reUgion
and pubUc worship, however, being framed upon
principles Uttle agreeable to the sentiments of some
of the clergy, an additional paragraph was by their
management inserted, of which Locke has unjustly
borne the blame.
In 1670, and the foUowing year, he began to
form the plan of his ' Essay on Human Understand
ing,' but was prevented from making any considera
ble progress in it by other employments ; being, in
1672, appointed by his patron (then Lord Chancellor)
Secretary of the Presentations.
The Great Seal being taken from Shaftesbury
in the November of the year foUowing, Locke, to
whom the Earl had coriimunicated his most secret
affairs, feU along with him. He afterward contri
buted his assistance to some pieces, which that nobler
man procured to be pubUshed with a view of ex
citing in the nation a just attention to the interests
of Uberty. As his Lordship, however, continued Pre
sident of the Board of Trade, Locke was made Secre
tary, with a salary of 500/. per ann.; but thisj, like-i
wise, was an appointment of short duration, the com
mission being dissolved iri the year 1674.
Being still Student of Christ Church, he frequently

JOHN LOCKE. T
resorted thither, as well for the conveniency of books,
as for the improvement of his health, the air of Lon
don not agreeing weU with his constitution. After
taking his degree of M. B. indeed in 1675, he went
to MontpeUer, being apprehensive of a consumption :
keeping up however, at the same time, an acquaint
ance with several of the English faculty, and con
tinuing his studies in the profession.*
At MontpeUer, he became acquainted with Thomas
Herbert, Esq. afterward Earl of Pembroke, to whom
he communicated the project of his celebrated Essay.
Thence he proceeded to Paris, where he contracted
a friendship with M. Justel the civiUan, and at his
house met M. Guenelon, a physician of Amsterdam,
who read anatomical lectures in that city with high..
reputation. It was now, also, that the famiUarity
commenced between Locke and M. Toignard, by
whom he was favoured with an early copy of his
• Harmony of the Gospels.'
Upon the discovery of the Popish plot, the Earl
of Shaftesbury was again taken into favour and
made President of a new Council appointed by
Charles II. in 1679 : but being a second time laid
aside in less than half a year, he had no opportunity
of rendering any fresh service to his friend. Not-
* What his medical reputation was, may be inferred from the
testimony of Sydenham in his book entitled, ' Obsenationes
Mediae circa Morborum Acutorum Historiam et Curationem ; '
*' You know, likewise, how much my method has been approved
of by a person, who has examined it to the bottom, and who is
our common friend : I mean Mr. John Locke, who, if we con
sider his genius and penetrating and exact judgement, or the
strictness of his morals, hits scarcely any superior and fiew equal*
now living."

8 JOHN LOCKE.
withstanding this, Locke continued unalterably at
tached to him throughout aU the vicissitudes of his
fortunes; and in 1682, upon his flight into HoUand,
foUowed him thither with several letters and writ
ings, which thus evaded search.
He had not been a year on the Continent, when
he was accused at the EngUsh court of ' having
written certain tracts against the government ; and
though another person was subsequently discovered
to be the author, yet his associating with several
EngUsh malcontents at the Hague being notified
through Sunderland, Secretary of State, to Charles
IL, his Majesty ordered measures to be taken for
expeUing him from his studentship. AppUcation for
this purpose was made to Bishop FeU, the Dean of
Christ Church, who ordered Mr, Locke to appear
and answer for himself on the first of January en
suing: but receiving a subsequent and more per
emptory command, he removed him without farther
delay, November 16, 1684.*
* Fell has been charged by some writers, particularly by Dr.
Birch in his ' Life of Locke,' with having exceeded his orders;
but from the testimony of Le Clerc, as well as the original let
ters which passed between the Bishop and the Secretary of State
upon the occasion, it might almost be inferred that the Prelate
was Mr. Locke's friend, and that he suspended the expulsion till
he conceived himself obliged instantaneously to comply. Even
this firiendship however may be questioned, and the Bishop's hesi
tation ascribed to his doubt of the legality of the order : as in his
first reply to Lord Sunderland he says, ' he has long had an eye*
upon Mr. Locke's behaviour; but though frequent attempts had
been made (qf which he himself expresses no disapprobation !)
to draw the victim into imprudent conversation, by attacking in
lys company the reputation and insulting the memory of his late
•^^atron and friend, and thus to " make his gratitude, as Mr. Fax

JOHN LOCKE. 9
Thus, observes a Ia,te Ulustrious historian, while
without the shadowof a crime Mr. Locke lost a situa
tion attended with some emolument and great conveni
ence, was the University deprived of, or rather thus
from the base principles of serviUty did she cast away
the man, the having produced whom is now her
greatest glory ; and thus, to those who are not de
termined to be bUnd, did the true nature of absolute
power discover itself, against which the middUng
station is not more secure than the most exalted.
Tyranny, when glutted with the blood of the great
and the plunder of the rich, wUl condescend to hunt
humbler game, and make a peaceable and innocent
FeUow of a CoUege the object of it's persecution. In
this instance, one would almost imagine there was
some instinctive sagacity in the government of that
time, which pointed out to them (even before he had
feelingly observes, and all the best feelings of his heart instru
mental to his ruin," these attempts had all proved unsuccessful :
whence however his Lordship only infers, not his'innocence,
but that there was not * in the world such a master of tacitur
nity and passion ! ' &c. &c. The hostility of Fell becomes the
more probable, if a letter addressed to him by Lord Claren
don, Chancellor of Oxford, in 1666 (and inserted in ' Hollis'
Memoirs,' p. 388) soliciting for him, theugh he had not taken
the degree of M. B., that ' he might be dispensed with to accu
mulate that degree, he professing himself ready to perform the
exercise for both,' may be regarded as genuine. Ashe had be
come acquainted in that year with Lord Ashley, the application
was probably made at his new friend's request. But both it,
and (as we learn from a letter written by Ashley himself be
tween 1670 and 1672, when he was created Earl of Shaftes
bury) a subsequent attempt to obtain for him a Doctor's degree-,
were frustrated. Lord Clarendon too, it should be remembered,
must have appeared obviously to his University, in 1666, a fall
ing star.

10 JOHN LOCKE.
made himself known to the world) the man, who
was destined to be the most successful adversary of
superstition and tyranny.
After this violent procedure, Locke thought it
prudent to remain in HoUand till the accession of
James II. ; when WiUiam Penn, who had known
him at coUege, procured for him the promise of a
pardon: but he declined the acceptance of this
friendly offer, alleging that ' having been guilty of
no crime, he had no occasion for forgiveness.'
In May, 1685, the EngUsh Envoy at the Hague
demanded him of the States General, upon suspicion
of his having been concerned in the Duke of Mon
mouth's invasion. This obUged him to lie concealed
nearly twelve months, tiU it becairie sufliciently
known that he had taken no part in that enterprise.
Toward the latter end of 1686, he re-appeared
in pubUc, and in the foUowing year formed a weekly
assembly at Amsterdam with Limborch an eminent
remonstrant divine, Le Clerc, and some others,
for the purpose of discussing subjects of universal
learning. In 1689, he printed at Gouda, in Latin, his ' First
Letter upon Toleration.*
Soon after the Revolution he returned to England,
and immediately preferred a claim to his studentship
at Christ Church: but that society rejected his preten
sions, as the proceedings against him (they contended)
were conformable to their statutes. At the same
* This was translated into English by Mr. Popple, author of
the ' Rational Catechism,' and into Dutch and French the
same year ; and of the English version a second edition was
printed, at London, in 1690. ^

JOHN LOCKE, 11
time, however, they offered to admit him a Sup^-
numerary Student ; but this he did not think proper
to accept. As a sufferer for the principles of the
Revolution, he might easily have obtained a very
considerable post; but he contented hunself with
that of Commissioner of Appeals, worth somewhat
less than 200/. ptr ann., which was procured for him
by Lord Mordaunt, afterward successively Earl of
Monmouth and Peterborough.
About the same time, it was left to his choice
whetlier he would be Envoy at the court of the Em-
pferor, at that of the Elector of Brandenburgh, or at
any other where he thought the air more salutary ;
but aU these he waived on account of the ill state
of his health, which disposed him gladly to ac
cept an offer made him by Sir Francis Masham and
his lady, of an apartment in thdr country-seat at
Oates in Essex. This situation proved, in aU re
spects, so agreeable to him, that he spent in it a
great part of the remainder of his life.
In 1690, he pubUshed his celebrated * Treatise on
Government,' which is divided into two parts. In
the former, the false principles of Sir Robert Filmer
and his foUowers are detected and overthrown : the
latter investigates the true original, extent, and end
of dvil government.
The same year, he published his ' Essay on Human
Understanding;' nor was the twelvemonth expired,
when his ' Second Letter upon Toleration ' appeared,
in answer to Mr. Jonas Proast, Chaplain of All Souls
CoU^e, Oxford, who had attacked the First.
In 1691, he printed his * Considerations on the
Consequences of lowering of Interest, and raising

12 JOHN LOCKE,
the Value of Money,' in a Letter addressed to a
Member of Parliament,
He subsequently pubUshed some other small pieces
upon the same subject, and the ministry advised with
him concerning the new coinage of the silver-cur
rency ; when he suggested an expedient for supplying
the necessities of commerce, and the exigencies of
the people during the re-coinage, which was approved
and recommended by the Lord 'Chancellor Somers,
In 1692, he gave to the world a ' Third Letter
upon Toleration;' which being answered about twelve
years afterward by his old antagonist, Mr, Proast,
he prepared a ' Fourth,' but he did not Uve to
finish it.
In I693, his 'Thoughts concerning Education'
made their appearance. They were, soon afterward,
translated into French and Low Dutch.
In 1695, WilUam III. appointed him one of the
Commissioners of Trade and Plantations. Thus he
became engaged in the immediate service of the
State ; and, with regard to that of the Church, in
order to promote the scheme (which his Majesty had
much at heart) of a comprehension of the Dissenters, "
he pubUshed, the same year, his ' Reasonableness of
Christianity as deUvered in the Scriptures.' It was
attacked in I696 by Mr. Edwards, in his ' Socinian
Unmasked ; ' upon which, Mr. Locke pubUshed two
vindications of it.
He was scarcely disengaged from this contro
versy, before he entered into another. Some argu
ments in his 'Essay on Human Understanding*
having been used by Mr. Toland, in his ' Christ
ianity not Mysterious,' and several treatises beings

JOHN LOCKE. IS
pubUshed about the same time by the Unitarians,
maintaining that ' there was nothing in the Christian
reUgion but what was conformable to reason,' a sen
timent which had been advanced by Mr. Locke;
Dr. StiUingfleet, Bishop of Worcester, pubUshed in
1697 his ' Defence of the Doctrine of the Trinity;'
animadverting upon some passages in the ' Essay*
as tending to subvert the fundamental articles of
the Gospel. An answer to this charge was imme
diately printed by Mr. Locke, to which the Prelate
repUed ; and the controversy was carried on to the
foUowing year, when it terminated by the death of
Dr. StUUngfleet.*
It has been generaUy admitted, that Mr. Locke
had considerably the advantage of his Right Reverend
opponent in this controversy. An Irish Prelate, in a
letter to Mr. Molyneux (an intimate friend of Mr.
Locke's) observes : " I read Mr. Locke's letters to the
Bishop of Worcester with great satisfaction, and am
whoUy of your opinion, that he has fairly laid the
great Bishop on his back ; but it is with so much
gentleness, as if he were afraid, not only of hurtpig
him, but even of spoiling his clothes. Indeed, I
cannot teU which I most admire, the great civiUty
and good manners in his book, or the force and clear
ness of his reasonings."
This was the last time, that Mr. Locke employed
the press. The asthma, to which he had been long
subject, increasing with his years, now rendered him
very infirm; and in 1700, being no longer able to
* This was hastened at least, if not occasioned, as we are
informed by Whiston on the authority of the Bishop's Chaplain,
the celebrated Dr. Bentley, by the chagrin of his defeat. (Me
moirs of the Life of Wiiistoil, I. SSi.)

U JOHN LOCKE.
bear the air of London, he resigned his seat at the
Board of Trade, '
From this time he continued altogether at Oates,
where he spent the last years of his Ufe entirely in
the study of the Holy Scriptures. His vital powers
in 1703 not being renovated at the entrance of the
summer (a season which, in former years, had inva
riably restored him to some degree of vigour) he be
came so sensible of his approaching disscdution, that
though he neglected none of the means known to his
own medical skUl, he decUned calUng in any other
assistance. At length, his legs began to sweU, and his
strength very visibly to diminish. He had often spoken
of his departure, and always with great composure ;
and now he calmly prepared to quit the world. As he
had been long incapable of going to church, he re
ceived the sacrament at home; and two of his friends
communicating with him, as soon as the office was
finished he told the minister, that ' he was in the
sentiments of perfect charity toward aU men, and of
a sincere union with the Church of Christ under
whatever name distinguished.'
After this, however, he Uved some months, which
he spent in acts of piety and devotion. The day
before his death. Lady Masham being alone with
him and sitting by his bed-side, he exhorted her to
t regard this world only as a state of preparation for
abetter;' adding, that 'he had Uved long enough,
and thanked God for having Uved so happily .'
Having had no sleep that night, he resolved to
rise the next morning, and being carried into his
study was placed in an easy-chair, where he slept a
considerable time. Seeming now a Uttle refreshed,
he wished to be dressed as usual; and then desired

JOHN LOCKE. 15
Lady Masham, who was reading the Psalms, to read
them aloud. She did so ; and he appeared extremely
attentive, tiU feeUng the approach of death, he begged
her to break off, and in a few minutes expired. His
death took place on the twenty eighth of October, 1704.
He was interred in the church of Oates, where
a simple monument was erected to his memory, with
an inscription in Latin written by himself, contain
ing aU that he thought proper to leave concerning
his character. A more particular account of him,
however, was afterward pubUshed by Mr. Peter Coste,
who had known him long, and for some years before
his death had Uved with him as an amanuensis. From
this are selected the foUowing extracts :
" Mr. Locke had great knowledge of the world,
and of the business of it. He won people's esteem
by his probity : his wisdom, his experience, his gentle
and obUging manners gained him the respect of his
inferiors, the esteem of his equals, the friendship and
confidence of those of the highest quaUty. He was
at first pretty much disposed to give advice, where
he thought it was wanted; but experience of the
Uttle effect it had, made him grow more reserved. In
conversation, he was most incUned to the useful and
serious turn; but, when occasion naturaUy offered,
he gave into the free and facetious with pleasure,
and was master of a great many entertaining stories,
which he always introduced properly and told na
turaUy ; nor was he any enemy to raiUery, when de
Ucate and innocent.
" He loved to talk with mechanics in their own
way ; and used to say, that ' the knowledge of the
arts contained more true philosophy than learned
hypotheses.' By putting questions to artificers, he
5

15 JOHN LOCKE.
would sometimes find out a secret in their art, not
weU understood by themselves ; and by that means
give them views entirely new, which they put in
practice to their profit.
" He was so far from affecting any airs of studied
gravity, that he would sometimes divert himself by
imitating it, in order to ridicule it with better success.
Upon these occasions, he always remembered the maxim
of Rochefoucault, which he admired above aU others,
* That gravity is a mysterious carriage of the body,
in order to conceal the defects of the mind.'
" One thing (continues Mr. Coste) which those
who Uved any time with Mr. Locke could not help
observing in him was, that he took deUght in making
use of his reason in every thing he did ; and nothing,
that was attended with any useftilness, seemed un
worthy of his care : so that we may say of him, what
was said of Queen EUzabeth, that he ' was no less
capable of smaU things than of great.' He often
used to say himself, ' That there was an art in every
thing;' and it was easy to be convinced of it, to see
the manner in which he went about the most trifling
thing he did, and always with some good reason."
Among the honours paid to his memory may be
mentioned that of the late Queen CaroUne, who in
her pavUion erected in honour of philosophy placed
his bust en a level with those of Bacon, Newton,
and Clarke, as the four prime EngUsh phUosophers.
In 1705, his ' Paraphrase and Notes on St. Paul's
Epistles to the Galatians' were pubUshed, and speedUy
foUowed by those upon the Corinthians, Romans, and
Ephesians : to which was prefixed an ' Essay for the
understanding of St. Paul's Epistles, by consulting
St. Paul himself.' In 1706, his Posthumous Works
3

JOHN LOCKE. 17
made their appearance ; and two years afterward,
some FamiUar Letters between him and several of
his friends : and, in 1720, Mr. Des Maizeaux gave
to the world a coUection of several of his pieces never
before printed, in one volume octavo.
, AU.his works were pubUshed, in a coUective form,
in three volumes foUo,* in 1714.
In 1781, Dr. Tucker, Dean of Gloucester, pub
lished a ' Treatise upon CivU Government,' the great
design of which was to oppose Mr. Locke's work
on; the same subject. In this -he maintains, that
Locke's principles are " extremely dangerous to the
peace and happiness of all society;" his writings,
and those of some of his most eminent disciples,
as he contends, " having laid a foundation for such
disturbances and dissensions, such mutual jealousies
and animosities, as ages to come wiU not be able to
settle or compose." Elsewhere, also, he observes;
* To authenticate some of these compositions which had pre
viously appeared without his name, the Editors, in the address
to the reader, give an extract from Mr. Locke's Will stating
that, ' in reply to an application from the Rev. Dr. Hudson,
Keeper ofthe Bodleian Library in the University of Oxford, he
had presented to that Collection all the books published under
his name ; which, though accepted with honourable mention of
him, yet were not understood to answer the request made, it
being supposed that there were other treatises whereof he was
the~ author, which had been published without his name to them.
In compliance, therefore,- with what was desired in the utmost
extent of it, he names farther his ' Three Letters on Toleration,'
' Two Treatises of Government ' (then first published from a
copy corrected by himself), and ' the Reasonableness of Chris
tianity as delivered in the Scriptures,' with two successive ' Vin
dications of it.' These are all comprehended in the folio
edition.
VOL. v. C

IS JOHN LOCKE,
" Surely a more pernicious set of opinions than the
Lockian could hardly be broached by man:" and
peaking of what he calls ' the paradoxes,' which he
supposes to attend the system of Locke and his
foUowers, he asserts that " they render it one of
the most mischievous as weU as ridiculous schemes,
that ever disgraced the reasoning faculties of human
nature" Against this heavy charge Dr. Towers pubUshed,
in 1782, 'A Vindication of the PoUtical Principles
of Mr. Locke ;* in which he has proved, that the
Dean grossly misrepresented his antagonist, and ad
vanced positions totaUy indefensible. " Mr. Locke's
Treatise on Government was calculated (he remarks)
to increase the Uberty of mankind,, and to place
them in a situation of greater dignity and feUcity,
than had been afforded them by the various systems
of tyranny and oppression, which have taken place
under the name of ' government ' in the different
ages and nations of the world. The great aim of
Dean Tucker's book seems to be, to support ancient
systems because they are so, to fiimish arguments
for perpetuating different kinds of oppression, though
not absolute tyranny, and to discourage those noble
attempts after a more perfect system of civil poUcy,
which the extension of knowledge and of science
might give men just reason to hope for and to ex
pect Mr. Locke is a clear, rational^ consistent
writer; but Dr. Tucker has taken abundant pains
ta involve him in darkness and obscurity, and to=
draw imaginary consequences from his propositions^
which cannot by any just reasoning be deducible
from them, and of which Mr. Locke appears not tO;

JOHN LOCKE. 19
have had the most distant cbnception." He farther
remarks, with reference to Locke's genei'al charatter^
that ' He was rendered tttily iflustrious by his
wisdom and his virtue, by the disinterestedness*
and uprightness of his conduct, by his love of
truth, and by his ardent attachment to the great
interests of mankind. He aflalysted the human riiind,
explained it's operations, and iUuminated the intel
lectual world by the sagacity of his researches. He
examined into the foundation of civU government^
traced it to it's true source, and illustrated and en
forced it's genuine principles. He maintained the
justice, the reasonableness, and the necessity of reU
gious toleration with a clearness, a precision, and a
force of argument, that had not been equaUed by
any preceding writer. He laboured to elucidate the
Sacred Scriptures, to advance the interests of revela
tion and of virtue, to loosen the bands of tyranny,
and to promote the cause of Uberty, of justice, and
of humanity. Such was the man, whose character
the Dean of Gloucester has laboured to degrade*
whose sentiments he has misrepresented, and whose
opinions he flatters himself that he has confuted. But
these efforts are fruitless, and these imaginations are
vain. The sentiments of Mr. Locke are founded
• Yet one of his great admirers (Mf". Hollis, Whd reprinted
his ' Treatises on Government,' and his ' Letter on Toler
ation') resenting what he thought his unkind treatment of
Toland, has pronounced him " time-serving and peevish:" not
iufllcient'ly considering that Mr. Locke, as a serious believer,
laeiight be disgusted with some of that gentleman's licentious
descants upon religion ; or that, while the latter was violent and
untrsRstable, tbe former was rendering services to the public
(as the biographer of Hollis suggests) rather of the cool philo
sophic kind, being of a temper of mind which indisposed him
fbr engaging with the alert and the vivacious.
C 2

20 JOHN LOCKE.
upon reason, truth, and justice; and his name will
continue to be reverenced wherever learning, Uberty,
and virtue shaU be held in estimation.'

EXTRACTS.
' Of our Knowledge of the Existence of a God.
(Essay, IV. x.)
« 1. Though God has given us no inriate ideas of
himself; though he has stamped no original characters
on our tiiinds, wherein we may read his being ; yet
having ftimished us with those faculties our minds
are endowed with, he hath not left himself without
witness : since we have sense, perception, and reason,
and cannot want a clear proof of him, as long as we
Carry ourselves about us. Nor can we justly com
plain of our ignorance in this great point, since he
has so plehtifuUy provided us with the means to dis
cover and know him, so far as is necessary to the
end of our being and the great concernment of our
happiness. But though this be the most obvious truth
that reason discovers, and though it's evidence be (if
I mistake not) equal to mathematical certainty ; yet
it requires thought and attention, and the mind must
apply itself to a regular deduction of it from some
part of our intuitive knowledge, or else we shaU be
as uncertain and ignorant of this as of other proposi
tions, which are in themselves capable of clear de
monstration. To show, therefore, that we are capable
of knowing, i. e. being certain that there is a God,
and how we may come by this certainty, I think we
need go no farther than ourselves," and that undoubted
knowledge we have of our own existence.
' g. I think it is beyond question, that man has a
4

JOHN LOCKE. 21
clear perception of his own being: he knows cer
tainly that he exists, and that he is something. Him
that can doubt whether he be any thing or no, I
speak not to ; no more than I would argue with pure
nothing, or endeavour to convince non-entity, that it
were something. If any one pretends to be so scep
tical, as to deny his own existence (for reaUy to doubt
of it, is manifestly impossible) let him for me enjoy
his beloved happiness of being nothing, untU hunger
or some other pain convince him of the contrary.
This then, I think, I may take for a truth, which
every one's certain knowledge assures him of beyond
the Uberty of doubting, viz. that he is something that
actuaUy exists.
* 3. In the next place, man knows by an intuitive
certainty, that bare nothing can no more produce
any real being, than it can be equal to two right an
gles. If a man knows not that non-entity, or the ab
sence of all being, cajmot be equal to two right angles,
jt is impossible he should know any demonstration
in EucUd. If therefore we know there is some real
being, and that non-entity cannot produce any real
being, it is an evident demonstration, that from eter
nity there has been something ; since what was not
from eternity had a beginning, and what had a be
ginning, must be produced by something else.
'4. Next, it is evident, that what had it's being
and beginning from another, must also have aU that
which is in and belongs to it's being from another
too. AU the powers it has niust be owing to, and
received from, the same source. This eternal source
then of all being, must, also, be the source and original
of aU power, and so this eternal being must be, also?
the, most powerful.

22 JOHN LOCKE.
' 5. Again, a man finds in himself perception and
knowle%e. We have, then, got one step farther ; and
we are certain now, that there is not only some
being, but some knowing inteUigent being in tb©
world. f There was a time, then, when there was no know
ing being, and when knowledge began to be ; or else
there has been, also, a knowipg being from eternity.
If it be said, ' there was a time when no being had
any knowledge, when that eternal being was void of
aU understanding ; ' I reply, that then it was impoSvsi-
ble there should ever have been any knowledge : it
being as impossible that things wholly void of know
ledge, and operating bUndly and without auy per
ception, should produce a knowing being, as it is
impossible that a triangle should make itself three
angles bigger than two right ones. For it is as re
pugnant to the idea of senseless matter, that it should
put into itself sense, perception, and knowledge, as
it is repugnant to the idea of a triangle, that it should
put into itself greater angles than two right ones.
' 6. Thus from the consideration of ourselv«s, and
what we infaUibly find in our own constitutions, our
ireasoH leads us to the knowledge of this certain an4
evident truth ; that there is an eternal, most power-
ftil, and most knowing being, which whether any
one wiU please to caU ' God,' it matters not. The
thing is evident, and from this idea duly considered,
wii easUy be deduced aU those other attributes, which
we ought to ascribe to this eternal being. If, never
theless, any one should be found so senselessly arro
gant, as to suppose man alone knowing and wise,
but yet the pieoduct of mere ignorance and chance,
and that aU the rest ofthe universe acted onjy by that

JOHN LOCKE. 2S
bUnd hap-hazard : I shaU leave with him that very
rational and emphatical rebuke of TuUy, 11. De Legg.,
to be considered at his leisure. " What can be more
sUlUy arrogant and misbecoming, than for a man to
think that he has a mind and understanding in him,
but yet in aU the universe beside there is no such
thing ; or that those things, which with the utmost
stretch of his reason he can scarcely comprehend,
should be moved and managed without any reason
at all?" Quid est enim verius, quhm neminem esse
€po)'tere tam stulth arrogantem, ut in se mentem
et rationem putet inesse, in ccelo mundoque non
putet ? Aut ea, quce vix summd ingenii ratione com-
prehendat, nulld ratione moveri putet ?
' From what has been said, it is plain to me we
have a more certain knowledge of the existence of a
God, than of any thing our senses have not immedi
ately discovered to us. Nay, I presume I may say,
that we more certainly know that there is a God,
than that there is any thing else without us. When
I say ' we know,' I mean there is such a knowledge
within our reach, which we cannot miss if we will
but apply our minds to that, as we do to several
other inquiries.
' 7. How far the idea of a most perfect being,
which a man may frame in his mind, does or does
not prove the existence of a God, I wiU not here
examine. For, in the different make of men's tempers
and appUcation of their thoughts, some arguments
prevaU more on one, and some on another, for the
confirmation of the same truth. But yet, I think
this I may say, that it is an UI way of estabUshing
this truth, and silencing Atheists, to lay the whole
stress of so important a point as this upon that sole
5

24 JOHN LOCKE.
foundation, and take some men's having that idea of
God in their minds (for 'tis evident some men have
none, and some worse than none, and the most very-
different) for the only proof of a Deity ; and out of an
over-fondness of that darUng invention, cashier or
at least endeavour to invaUdate aU other arguments,
and forbid us to hearken to those proofs, as being
weak or faUacious, which our own existence and
the sensible parts of the universe offer so clearly and
cogently to our thoughts, that I deem it impossible
for a considering man to withstand them. For I
judge it as certain . and clear a truth, as can any
where be deUvered, that " the invisible things of God
are clearly seen from the creation of the world, being
understood by the things that are made, even his
eternal power and Godhead." Though our own being
furnishes us, as I have shown, with an evident and
incontestable proof of a Deity ; and I beUeve nobody
can avoid the cogency of it, who will but as carefuUy
attend to it, as to any other demonstration of so
many parts : yet this being so fundamental a truth,
and of that consequence that aU reUgion and genuine
moraUty depend thereupon, I doubt not but I shaU
be forgiven by my reader, if I go over some parts of
this argument again, and enlarge a Uttle more upon
them, f 8. There is no truth more evident, than that
something must be from eternity. I never yet heard
of any one so unreasonable, or that could suppose so
manifest a contradiction, as a time wherein there was
perfectly nothing: this being of aU absurdities the
greatest, to imagine that pure nothing, the perfect
negation and absence of aU beings, $hould ever pro-s
duce any real existence.

JOHN LOCKE. 2.5
« It, then, being unavoidable for aU rational creatures
to conclude, that something has existed from eternity,
let us next see what kind of thing that must be.
' 9. There are but two sorts of beings in the
world, that man knows or conceives :
' First, Such as are purely material, without sense,
perception, or thought, as the cUppings of our beards,
and parings of our nails ;
' Secondly, Sensible, thinking, perceiving beings,
such as we find ourselves to be, which (if you please)
we wiU hereafter caU ' cogitative ' and ' incogitative'
beings ; which to our present purpose, if for nothing
else, are perhaps better terms than 'material' and
' immaterial.' . i
^10. If, then, there must be something eternal, let
us see, what sort of being it must be. And to that,
it is very obvious to reason, that it must necessarily
be a cogitative beirig. For it is as impossible to con
ceive, that ever bare incogitative matter should pro
duce a thinking inteUigent being, as that nothing
should of itself produce matter. Let us suppose any
parcel of matter eternal, great or smaU, we shaU find
it in itself able to produce nothing. For example;
let us suppose the matter ofthe next pebble we meet
with eternal, closely united, and the parts firmly at
rest together : if there were no other being in the
world, must it not eternaUy remain so, a dead in
active lump ? Is it possible to conceive it can add
motion to itself, being purely matter, or produce any
thing? Matter, then, by it's own strength cannot
produce in itself so much as motion: the motion it
has must also be from eternity, or else be produced
and added to matter by some other being more power-
fril than matter ; matter, as is evident, having not

26 JOHN LOCKE.
power to produce motion in itself. But let us sup
pose motion eternal too ; yet matter, incogitative
matter and motion, whatever changes it might pro
duce of figure, arid bulk, could never produce thought :
knowledge wUl stiU be as far beyond the power of
motion and matter to produce, as matter is beyond
the power of nothing or non-entity to produce. And
I appeal to every one's own thoughts, whether he
cannot as easUy conceive matter produced by nothing,
as thought to be produced by pure matter, when be
fore there was no such thing as thought or an intel-
Ugent being existing. Divide matter into as minute
parts as you wiU (which we are apt to imagine a sort
of spirituaUsing, or making a thinking thing of it)
vary the figure and motion of it as much as you
please, a globe, cube, cone, prism, cyUnder, &c. whose
diameters are but 1,000,000th part of a gry,* wiU
operate no otherwise upon other bodies of proportion
able bulk, than those of an inch or foot diameter ;
and you may as rationally produce sense, thought,
and knowledge by putting together in a certain
figure and motion gross particles of matter, as by
those that are the very minutest that do any where
exist. They knock, impel, and resist one another,
just as the greater do, and that is aU they can dp.
So that if we wUl suppose nothing first, or eternal,
matter can never begin to be : if we suppose bare
* ' A « gry » is A of a line, a line ^ pf an inch, an inch -i, of
a philosophical foot, a philosophical foot .^ of a pendulum, whose
diadroms, in the latitude of 45 degrees, are each equal to one
second of time, or .^ of a minute. I have affectedly made use
pf this measure berp, and the parts of it, under a decimal divi
sion, with names to them ; because, I think, it would be of
general convenience, that this should be the common measure
in the commonwealth of letters.'

JOHN LOCKE. 27
matter without motion eternal, motion can never
begin to be : if we suppose only matter and motion
first, or eternal, thought can never begin to be. For
it is impossible to conceive that matter, either with
or without motion, could have originaUy in and from
itself sense, perception, and knowledge; as is evi
dent hence, that then sense, perception, and know
ledge must be a property eternaUy inseparable from
matter and every particle of it. Not to add, that
though our general or specific conception of matter
makes us speak of it as one thing, yet reaUy all
matter is not one individual thing, neither is there
any such thing existing as one material being or
one single body that we know or can conceive.
And, therefore, if matter were the eternal first cogita
tive being, there would not be one eternal, infinite,
cogitative being, but an infinite number of eternal
finite cogitative beings, independent one of another,
of Umited force and distinct thonghts, which could
never produce that order, harmony, and beauty,
which is to be found in nature. Since, therefore,
whatsoever is the first eternal being must necessarily
be cogitative; and whatsoever is fir.st of aU things
must necessarily contain in it, and ac tuaUy have, at
least, all the perfections that can ever ai^terward exist ;
nor can it ever give to another any peifection that it
hath not, either actuaUy in itself, or .at least in a
higher degree; it necessarUy follows, tliat the first
eternal being cannot be matter.
' 11. If therefore it be evident, that something
n^essarily must exist from eternity, 'tis also as e vident,
that that something n*ust necessarily be a cogi tative
being ; fop it is as impossible that incogitative m atter
should prodntee a cogitative being, as thaft nothjiDg)

28 JOHN LOCKE.
or the negation of aU being, should produce a positive,
being or matter.
'12. Though this discovery of the necessary ex
istence of an eternal mind does sufficiently lead us
into the knowledge of God, since it wUl hence foUow
that aU other knowing beings that have a beginning
must depend on him, and have no other ways of
knowledge or extent of power than what he gives
tJiem ; and therefore if he made those, he made also
the less exceUent pieces of this universe (aU inani
mate beings) whereby his omniscience, power, and
providence wUl be estabUshed, and aU his other attri
butes necessarily foUow; yet to clear up this a Uttle
farther, we wiU see what doubts can be raised
against it.
' 13. First, perhaps it wUl be said, that ' though it
be as clear as demonstration can make it, that there
must be an eternal being, and that being must also
be knowing, yet it does not fpUow but that a think
ing being may also be material.' Let it be so : it
equaUy stiU foUows, that there is a God. For if
there be an eternal, omniscient, omnipotent being, it
is certain that there is a God, whether you imagine
that being to be material or no. But herein, I sup
pose, Ues the jdanger and deceit of that supposition :
there being no way to avoid the demonstration that
there is an eternal knowing being, men devoted to
matter would wUlingly have it granted, that this
knowing being is material ;- and then letting sUde out
of their minds, or the discourse, the demonstration
whereby an eternal knowing being was proved necest
sarily to exist, would argue all to be matter, and so
deny a God, that is, an eternal cogitative beirig ;
whereby they are so f^ from estabUshing, that they

JOHN LOCKE. 29
destroy their own hypothesis. For if there can be,
in their opinion, eternal matter without any eternal
cogitative being, they manifestly separate matter and
thinking, and suppose no necessary connexion of the
one with the other, and so estabUsh the necessity of
an eternal spirit, but not of matter ; since it has been
proved already, that an eternal cogitative being is
unavoidably granted. Now if thinking and matter
may be separated, the eternal existence of matter
wUl not foUow from the eternal existence of a cogi
tative being, and they suppose it to no purpose.
. ' 14. But, now, let us see how they can satisfy
themselves or others, that this eternal thinking being
is material. ' First, I would ask them, whether they imagine
that aU matter, every particle of matter, thinks?
This, I suppose, they wUl scarcely say ; since then
there would be as many eternal thinking beings as
there are particles of matter, and so an infinity of
Gods. And yet if they wiU aUow matter as matter,
that is, every particle of matter to be as weU cogita
tive as extended, they wUl have as hard a task to
make out to their own reasons a cogitative being out
of incogitative particles, as an extended being out of
unextended parts, if I may so speak.-
'15. Secondly, If aU matter does not think, I next
ask, whether it be only one atom that does so? This
has as many absurdities, as the other ; for then this
atom of matter must be alone eternal, or not. If this
alone be eterngl, then this alone, by it's powerful
thought or wUl, made aU the rest of matter. , And so
we have the creation of matter by a powerful thought,
which, is that the materialists stick at. For if they
suppose one single thinking atom to have produced

$0 JOHN LOCKE.
aU the rest of matter, they cannot ascribe that pre-
eminency to it upon any other account than that of it's
thinking, the only supposed difference. But allow it
to be by some other wayj which is above our concep
tion, it must be stiU creation, and these men must give
up their great maxim, Eit nihilo nil ft. If it be said^
that ' aU the rest of matter is equaUy eternal as that
thinking atom,' it wiU be to say any thing at pleasure^
though ever so absurd. For to suppose aU matter
eternal, and yet one smaU particle in knowledge and
power infinitely above all the rest, is without any th^
least appearance of reason to frame an hypothesis.
Every particle of matter, as matter, is capable of all
the same figures and motions as any other ; and I
eh^enge any one in his thoughts to add any thing
else to one above another.
'16, If then neither one pecuUar atom alone can
be this eternal thinking being, nor aU matter as
matter, i. e. every particle of matter, can be it ; it
only remains, that it is some certain system of matter
duly put together, that is this thinking eternal being;
This is that which, I imagine, is that notion which
men are aptest to have of God ; who would have him
a material being, as most readUy suggested to' them
by the ordinary cori^ceit they have of themselves and
other men, which they take to be material thinking
beings. But this imagination, however more natural,
is no less absurd than the other : for to suppose the
eternal thinkhig being to be nothing else but a com
position of particles of matter, each whereof is inco
gitative, is to ascribe aU the wisdom and knowledge
of that eternal being only to the juxta-position of
parts ; than which nothing can be more absurd. For
unthinking particles of matter, however put together.

JOHN LOCKE. SI
can have nothing thereby added to them but a new
relation of position, which 'tis impossible should give
thought and knowledge to them.
' 17. But farther, this corporeal system either has
aU it's parts at rest, or it is a certain motion of the
parts wherein it's thinking consists. If it be perfectly
at rest, it is but one lump, and so can have no privi
leges above one atom.
' If it be the motion of it's parts, on which it's
thinking depends, aU the thoughts there must be
unavoidably accidental and Umited; since of aU
the particles that by motion cause thought, each
being in itself without any thought cannot regulate
it's own motions, much less be regulated by the
thought of the whole; since that thought is not the
cause of motion (for then it must be antecedent to it,
and so without it) but the consequence of it, whereby
freedom, power, choice, and aU rational and wise think
ing or acting wUl be quite taken away: so that such a
thinking being wiU be no better, nor wiser j than pure
bUnd matter ; since to resolve aU into the accidental
unguided motions of bUnd matter, or into thought
depending on unguided motions of bUnd matter, is
the same thing — not' to mention the narrowness of
such thoughts and knowledge, that must depend on
the motion of such parts. But there needs no enu
meration of any more absurdities and inipossibiUties
in this hypothesis (however fuU of them it be) than
that beforementioned ; since let this thinking system
be aU, or a part of the matter of the universe, it is
impossible that any one particle should either know
it's own or the motion of any other particle, or the
whole know the motion of every particular, and so

32 JOHN. LOCKE.
regulate -it's own thoughts or motions, or indeed have
any thoughts resulting from such motion.
' 18. Others would have matter to be eternal, not
withstanding that they aUow an eternal, cogitative,
immaterial being. This, though it take not away
the being of God, yet since it denies one and the first
great piece of his workmanship, the creation, let us
consider it a Uttle. Matter must be aUowed eternal :
Why ? Because you cannot conceive, how it can be
made out of nothing ; why do. you not, also, think
yourself eternal ? You will answer, perhaps, ' because
about twenty or forty years since you began to be.'
But if I ask you ' what that You is, which began then
to be ? ' you can scarcely teU me. The matter, whereof'
you are made, began not then to be ; for if it. did, then
it -is .not eternal: but it began to be put together in
such a fashion and frame as makes up your body;
but yet that frame of particles, is not you, it makes
not that thinking thing You are (for I have now to
do with one, who aUows an eternal, immaterial, think
ing being, but would have unthinking matter eternal
too) : therefore, when did that thinking thing begin, to
be ? If it did never begin to be, then have you al
ways been. a thinking thing from eternity? The ab
surdity whereof I need, not confute, tiU I meet with
one who is so void of understanding as to own- it.
If, therefore, you can aUow a thinking thing to be
made out of nothing (as aU things, that are not eternal,
must be) why, also, can you not aUow it possible for
a material being to. be made out of nothing, by an
equal power, but that you have the experience ofthe
one in view, and not the other? T.hough> when weU
considered, creation of a spirit wiU be found to re-

JOHN LOCKE. 83
quire no less power than the creation of matter.
Nay possibly, if we would emancipate ourselves from
vulgar notions, and raise our thoughts as far as they
would reach to a closer contemplation of things, we
might be able to aim at some dim and seeming con
ception how matter might at first be made and begin
to exist by the power of that eternal first being : but
to give begirining and being to a spirit, would be
found a more inconceivable effect of omnipotent power.
But this being what would perhaps lead us too far
from the notions on^ivhich the phUosophy now in the
world is buUt, it would not be pardonable to deviate
so far from them ; or to inquire so far as grammar
itself would authorise, if the common settled opinion
opposes it : especiaUy in this place, where the received
doctrine serves weU enough to our present purpose,
and leaves this past doubt, that the creation or begin
ning of any one substance out of nothing being once
admitted, the creation of aU other except the Creator
himself may with the same ease be supposed.
* 19- But you wUl say, 'Is it not impossible to ad
mit ofthe making any thing out of nothing, since we
cannot possibly conceive it?' I answer, No: 1. Be
cause it is not reasonable to deriy the power of an
infinite being, because we cannot comprehend it's
operations. We do not deny other effects upon this
ground, because we cannot possibly conceive the
manner of their production. We cannot conceive
how any thing but impulse of body can move body ;
and yet that is not a reason sufiicient to make us
deny it possible, against the constant experience
we have of it in ourselves, in aU our voluntary
motions, which are produced in us only by the free
action or thought of our own minds, and are not,
VOL. V. D

S4 JOHN LOCKE.
nor can be the effects of the impulse or determinatio»
of the motion of bUnd matter in or upon our bodies ;
for, then, it could not be in our power or choice to
alter it. For example : My right hand writes, whUst
my left hand is stUl : what causes rest in one, and
motion in the other ? Nothing but my wiU, a thought
of my mind : my thought only changing, the .right
hand rests, and the left hand moves. This is matter
of fact, which cannot be denied: explain this, and
make it intelUgible, and then the next step wiU be
to understand creation. For the giving a new deter-
imination to the motion of the animal spirits (which
some make use of to explain voluntary motion) clears
not the difficulty one jot : to alter the determination
of motion being in this case no easier nor less, than
to give motion itself; since the new determination
g^ven to the animal spirits must be either immedi
ately by thought, or in some other body put in their
way by thought, which was not in their way before,
and so must owe it's motion to thought ; either of
which leaves voluntary motion as uninteUigible. as it
was before. In the mean time, 'tis an overvaluing
ourselves, to reduce aU to the narrow measure of our
capacities, and to conclude aU things impossible to
be done, whose manner of doing exceeds our com
prehension. This is to make our comprehension in
finite, or God finite, when what he can do is Umited
to what we can conceive of it. If you do not under
stand the operations of your own finite mind, that
thinking thing within you, do not deem it strange
that you cannot comprehend the operations of that
eternal infinite mind, who made and governs aU
things, and whom the heaven of heavens cannot
contain.'

JOHN LOCKE. SS
From th^ • Musarum Qgeniensimn, FA»wf»fi«(,' 1654'
' If Greece with so much mirth did entertain
Her Argo coming laden home again,
With what loud mirth and triumph shall we greet
The wish'd approaches of our welcome fleet ;
When pf that prize our ships do us possess,
Whereof their Fleece was but an emblem, Peace :
Whose welcome voice sounds sweeter in our ears.
Than the loud music of the warbling spheres ;
And, ravishing more than these, doth plainly show
That sweetest harmony we to discord owe.
Each seaman's voice, pronouncing peace, doth charm.
And seems a siren's i but that 't has less harm
And danger in't, and yet like theirs doth please
Above all other, and make us love the seas.
We've heaven in this peace ; like souls above.
We've nought to do now, but admire and love.
Glory of war is victory ; but here
Both glorious lie, 'cause neither's conqueror.
'T had been less honour, if it might be said.
They fought with those that could be conquered.
Our re-united seas, like streams that grow
Into one river, do the smoother Aow ;
Where ships no longer grapple, but like those
The loving seamen in embraces close.
We need no fire-ships now : a nobler flame
Of love doth us protect, whereby our name
Shall shine more glorious ; a flame as pure
As those of heaven, and shall as long endure.
This shall direct our ships ; and he, that steers.
Shall not consult heaven's fires, but those he bears
In his own breast. Let Lilly threaten wars :
While this conjunction lasts, we'll fear no stars.
Our ships are now most beneficial grown.
Since they bring home no spoils but what's their own.
Unto these branchless pines our forward spring
Owes better friiit, than autumn's wont to bring ;
Which give not only gems and Indian ore.
But add at once whole nations to our store,
D 2

36 JOHN LOCKE,
Nay, if to make a world 's but to compose
The diSerence of things, and make them close
In mutual amity, and cause Peace to creep
Out ofthe jarring chaos ofthe deep,
Our ships do this : so that, whilst others take ,
Their course about the world, ours a world make.'
J. Locke, Student qf Ch. Ch.

37

SIR GEORGE ROOKK*

[1650—1709.]

Sir GEORGE ROOKE was the son bf a private
gentleman of ancient famUy, in the county of Kent.
His father designing him for one of the learned pro
fessions, bestowed upon him a Uberal education ; but
having discovered in him a strong propensity to the
sea-service, he thought it prudent to comply with it.
Accordingly, he procured him a station in the navy-
early in the reign of Charles IL, from Which he rose
by his merit to the rank of a Captain, a short time
previously to the death of that Monarch. In the suc
ceedirig reign he received rib promotion, being merely
retained in the service from the scarcity of good naval
officers, as James knew that he wished weU to the
cause of civU Uberty ; arid, upon the lariding of the
Prince of Orange, he was dismissed with several
others. On this, he immediately enroUed himself
under the banners of WUUam, and thus became in
some measure instrumental to the success of the
Revolution. * Authorities, Burnet's History of his Ovm Times, Bio
graphia Britannica, and Campbell's Lives ofthe Admirals,

S8 SIR GEORGE ROOKE.
Soon after the accession of the new Sovereign,
Admiral Hubert being appointed to the command of
the fleet destined to co-operate with the land-forces
in the reduction of Ireland, Captain Rooke was
raised to the rank of Commodore, and greatly sig-
naUsed himself upon the occasion.
In 1691, he was made Rear Admiral, and had the
honour of convoying his Majesty to HoUand, in the
beginning of that year, to the general Congress of the
Confederates held at the Hague. The operations of
the campaign in Flanders being settled, WiUiam put
himself at the head of the aUied army, in order td
reUeve Mons ; but that place having surrendered to
the French, he returned to England.
The following year, in the engagement off La
Hogue between the combined fleets of England and
HoUand, under the command of Admiral Russel,
and that of France, Rooke confirmed Ms reputation
by the most distinguished acts of judgettient and
bravery. In this action, which began on the nine-.
teenth of May and continued tlU the twenty-fourth,
he boldly dashed in with boats and fire-ships among
thirteen French vessels hauled in very near the
shore, and burned the whole with several transports.
His royal master was so highly pleased with his
intrepidity upon the occasion, that he granted him a
considerable pension for Ufe, and conferred upon him
the honour of knighthood*
The UI success of the EngUsh fleet in l693 was
such that his Majesty, upon his retmn from the
Netherlands, could not forbear noticing in parUa-
fflient the mismanagement of our naval affairs. Far,
however, from thinking that Sir Gewge Rooke had
1

SIR GEORGE ROOKE. 9S>
in any way been wanting to his duty, he appointed
him successively Vice Admiral of the Red, and Ad
miral of the Blue.
But it is not in victory alone, that we are to look
for bravery and skUl in a coriimander; even in
the most adverse events, are frequently to be dis
cerned striking proofs of superior abilities. Such
was Rooke's case, when being appointed with twenty
three sail of the line to convoy the~ Smyrna fleet,
consisting of nearly five hundred vessels, he was
attacked off Cape St. Vincent by eighty French meo
of war. Yet did he gaUantly fight his way through
the enemy, and thus give an opportunity to upward
of four hundred of the merchantmen to escape.
In 1694, he was appointed one ofthe Lords ofthe
Admiralty ; and in 1698, chosen member bf parlia
ment for Portsmouth, in which capacity he discharged
his duty with such a spirit of independence, that the
ministry pressed his Majesty to remove him from Ms
office : WUUam however, to his great honour, invari
ably refused ; saying, " Rooke has served me feith-
fuUy at sea, and I wUl never displace him for acting
as he thinks most for 'the service of his country in
the House of Commons."
The year 1699 was a year of peace throughout
Europe: but, in 1700, Sir George had a fresh oppor
tunity of signaUsing his conduct in the Baltic. A
strong confederacy having been formed by Russia,
Denmark, and Poland, against^the young King of
Sweden and his brother-in-law the Duke of Holstein,
and the Dane having actuaUy invaded the territories
of the latter, the Kin^ of England and the States-
General not only intei-posed their mediatorial offices';
but also, the more ^fectually to promote their object,

40 SIR GEORGE ROOKE.
despatched sqliadrons of men of war into the Sound.
Rooke, with the fleet under his command cruising
before the Maese, immediately proceeded to the
Hague, to confer with the Deputies of the States;
and being joined by the Dutch squadron under
Lieutenant Admiral AUemond, notwithstanding the
delays occasioned by contrary winds, on the eighth
of July entered the Sound without opposition.
Here finding that the Swedes expected to have
the chief authority, he was obUged to act with great
deUcacy in order to maintain the national precedency.
This he dexterously accompUshed, and the united
fleet saUed under his command to Copenhagen, which
they affected to bombard, but without doing much
damage, though they could have laid the city in
ashes. His instructions and designs, however, tended
only to peace; which being soon afterward happUy
concluded at Travendal, he returned home about
the middle of September with the general appro
bation. In the spring of 1701, he was appointed Admiral
and Commander in Chief of the fleet : but the war
against France not breaking out in the South of
Europe tUl the foUowing year, no naval enterprise
offered itself for execution. In the mean time James
II. dying at St. Germain's, and the French acknow
ledging his pretended successor James IIL, ¦ his
Majesty summoned a new parUament, in which
the Admiral was re-elected for Portsmouth,
Upon this occasion, he nobly refused to sacrifice the
independence of an EngUshman for titles or emolu-
me^; having, in opposition to the views of the
Cojirt, voted for Mr. Harley to be Speaker of the
House of Commons, though the King himself not
5

SIR GEORGE ROOKE. 41
very constitutional^ interested himself in favour of
Sir Thomas Lyttelton.
The death of WilUam, which happened during the
first session, of this parUament, interrupted the designs
of his enemies ; and the Princess Anne succeeding to
the crown, the clamors which had been raised against
Sir George by the ministry ceased. He now re
ceived the farther honour of being 'appointed Vice
Admiral and Lieutenant of the Admiralty of Eng
land and Lieutenant of the fleets and seas of this .
kingdom, under Prince George of Denmark, who was
constituted Lord High Admiral of England and Ge-
neraUssimo'of aU her Majesty's forces.
In 1702, Rooke was placed jointly with the Duke
of Ormond, at the head of thirty EngUsh and twenty
Dutch ships of the Une, having 10,000 English sol
diers on board, in the unsuccessful expedition against
Cadiz. On his passage home he learnt, that the galleons
with their convoy had put into Vigo. This he im-
.mediately imparted to the Dutch Admiral, declaring
it as his opinion, that ' they should directly set saU
for that place.' His suggestion was readUy adopted,
and received the subsequent sanction of a councU of
flag-officers. The French Admiral, in order to secure
his. ships and the Spanish flota, had carried them up
beyond .a narrbw streight not only pow:erfuUy de
fended by platforms, upon which he planted his best
guns, but '.Ukewise crossed by a strong boom of
masts, yards,. cables, top-chains, and casks measuring
twelve yairds in ..circumference, and kept steady by
anchors thrown out on both sides.
Undismayed by these preparations^ as soon as the

42 SIR GEORGE ROOKE.
confederate fleet came to an anchor before Vigo on
the eleventh of October, Rooke caUed a council of the
sea and land general officers ; in which it was resolved
that, 'since the whole squadron could not act with
out imminent danger of running foul of one anotheri
a detachment of fifteen EngUsh and. ten Dutch men
of war, with aU the fire-ships, should be sent in
to take or destroy the enemy; that the frigates
and homb-vessels should foUow in their rear, and that
the great ships also should move after them ; that the
army should at the same time attack the fort on the
south-side of RedondeUa, and thence proceed wher
ever they might be able to act with the ^atest effect
For the better performance of these resolutions, the
Admiral, with unwearied vigilance, spent almost the
whole night in going from ship to ship in his own
boat to give the necessary directions, and to encou
rage both officers and seamen to ' do their duty.'
The next morning, as soon as the land-forcra under
the Duke of Ormond were disembarked, Rooke gave
the signal to weigh : the Une accordingly was formed,
and the squadron was briskly bearing up against the
boom ; when unfortunately, on getting within cannon-
shot of the batteries, it feU calm, so that they were
constrained to come again to an anchor. Not long
afterward however, -a fresh gale springing up. Vice
Admiral Hopson in the Torbay, being next the
enemy, cut his cables, and bearing up under foil
sail amidst aU the enemy's fire broke through the
boom, and cast anchor between two French men of
war. The Dutch Commander, avaiUng himself of a
second gale, foUowed this noble example, and tnade
himself master of one of them, the Bourbon,

SIR GEORGE ROOKE. *$
At last the French Admiral, seeing the platforms
in the hands of the victorious EngUsh, the boom cut
in pieces, and the aUied fleet pouring in upon him,
set fire to his own ship, and ordered the rest of the
Captains under his command to foUow his example.
In this, however, he could not be so punctually obeyed,'"
but that of his twenty one men of war and seven
teen gaUeons, ten of the first and eleven of the latter
fell into the hands of the enemy.
Rooke, on his arrival in London was haUed with
the most triumphant acclamations by the people,
received the thanks of the House of Commons, and
was sworn of her Majesty's most honourable Privy
CouncU. In 1704, he was appointed tp carry over to Portu
gal the Archduke Charles, who had been raised to
the throne of Spain under the title of Charles IIL
Having performed this service, in pursuance of his
ferther instructions, he set sail for the Mediterranean,
with the Prince of Hesse Darmstadt aaid a body of
land-forces on board. On the eighteenth of May
they appeared before Barcelonaj hoping that it
would declare in their favour. The. discovery of a
design to surrender to them the place, a few hours
before the landing of the troops, disappointed those
expectations. After a few lighter services, in the month of July
the fleet passed Cape Palos, and was soon afterward
joined by Sir Cloudesley Shovel with a reinforcement
of thirty three ships of the line. It was now resolved,
in obedience to ft-^h instructions, to repass the Straits,
and there await directions from the Kings of Portu
gal and Spain, Those Monarchs determined* that

44 SIR GEORGE ROOKE,
they should make a sudden attempt upon Gibraltgr.
Rooke after a very spirited attack sent in a peremp
tory summons to the Governor, upon which the town
capitulated on the twenty fourth of July, 1704 : the
garrison being aUowed to march out with their arms
and baggage, and three pieces of brass cannon ; and
the inhabitants to retain the privUeges, which they '
had enjoyed under their former Sovereign, , •
The last pubUc service performed for his country
by Sir George Rooke was in an engagement at the
head of thirty three sail of the Une, twelve leagues^
. off Malaga, with the French fleet of fifty ships of war
and twenty four large gaUeys under the command bf
the Count de Toulouse : but though the engagement
lasted from ten in the morning of the thirteenth of
August tUl night, and was accompanied with a
mutual loss of nearly 2,500 men, not one ship on
either side was taken, sunk, or burnt. It was highly
glorious, however, to her Majesty's navy, as the
enemy had a superiority of six hundred guns, beside
the advantage of cleaner vessels, and gaUeys to tow
their large ships and supply them vdth fresh men in
Ueu of their kijled or disabled. Rooke now saUed
for Gibraltar, and having left 2,000 marines in that
garrison, with, a sufficient quantity of stores and pro
visions, returned home.
Of the capture of Gibraltar and the subsequent
sea-fight Dr. Stanhope, in his Thanksgiving Sermon
before her Majesty at St. Paul's, June 27, 1706,
justly observes, ' That we were soon instructed in
the mighty concernment of the first, by the season
able refreshments our fleets found there; after. a
battle fought on our side with great inequaUty.,of

SIR GEORGE ROOKE. 45
force, but with what resolution and success we need
no other evidences than the disabiUty of making any
formidable figure at sea, which the French have
manifestly lain under ever since.'
Yet aU these pubUc acknowledgements of Rooke's
merit coiUd not sUence the calumny of his enemies :
a party was formed against him at Court, by whom
only a smaU share of the late signal successes was
ascribed to his exertions. Chagrined at this treat
ment, and resolved at the same time that the affairs
of the nation should not receive any obstruction upon
his account, he passed the remainder of his days as a
countiy-gentleman at his seat in Kent. A private
seal was offered him for passing his accounts ; but he
reftised it, and made them up in the ordinary way
with the greatest accuraicy.
He did not long, however, survive his retirement ;
the gout, which had for many years greatly afflicted
him, putting a period to his life in January, 1709.
He was thrice married : first, to a daughter of Sir
Thomas Howe, of Cold Berwick in WUtshire, Bart. ;
secondly, to a daughter of Colonel Francis LuttreU,
of Dunster Castle in Soriiersetshire, who died of her
first child, George, the sole hefr of his father's for
tune ; and thirdly, to Miss KnatchbuU, of Mersham
Hatch in Kent.
Dr. CampbeU, in his ' Lives of the Admirals,' ap
pears to have drawn the character of Rooke with con
siderable impartiaUty : " He was certainly an officer
{he observes) of great merit, if either conduct or cou
rage could entitle him to that character. The former
appeared in his behaviour on the Irish station, in his
wise and prudent management when he preserved so
great a part of the Smyrna fleet, and particularly i^

46 SIR GEORGE ROOKE.
the t^ng "of Gibraltar, which was a project codv
ceived and executed in less than a week. Of his
courage he gave abundant testimonies, especially in
burning the French ships at La Hogue, and in the
battle bff Malaga, where he behaved with all the
resolution of a British Admiral ; and, as he was first
in command, was first also in danger. In party-
matters he was, perhaps, too warm and eager; for
aU men have their faiUngs, even the greatest and
best : but, in action, he was perfectly cool and tem
perate; gave his orders with the utmost serenity;
and, as he was carefiil in marking the conduct of
his officers, so his candor and justice were always
conspicuous in the accounts he gave of them to his
superiors : he there knew no party, no private con
siderations, but commended merit whenever it ap-
peared. He had a fortitude of mind, that enabled
him to behave with dignity upon all occasions, in
the. day of examination as weU as in the day of
battle ; and though he was more than once caUed to
the bar of the House of Commons, yet he always
escaped censure, as he Ukewise did before the Lords ;
not by shifting the fault upon others or meanly com-
plyingwith the temper ofthe times, but by maintaining
SteadUy what he thought right, and speaking his sen
timents with that freedom which becomes an EngUsh
man whenever his conduct in his country's service is
brought in question. In a word, he was equaUy su
perior to popular clamor and popular applause : but,
above aU, he had a noble contempt for foreign inte
rests when incompatible with our own ; and knew
not what it was to seek the favour of the great, but
by performing such actions as deserved it. In his
private Ufe, he was a good husband and kind master ;

SIR GEORGE ROOKE. 47
Uved hospitably toward his neighbours, and left be
hind him a moderate fortune — so moderate that, when
he came to make his wUl, it surprised those who were
present ; but Sir George assigned the reason in few
words : " I do not leave much," said he, " but what
I leave was honestly gotten ; it ' never cost a saUor a
tear, or the nation a farthing."

48

SIR JOHN HOLT, Knt.
LORD CHIEF JUSTICE OF THE COURT OF KING'S
BENCH.*

[1642—1709.]

XHIS ornament of the bench, whose character de
serves to be transmitted with veneration to the latest
posterity, was the son of Sir Thomas Holt, Recorder
of Abingdon. He was born at Thame, in Oxford
shire, in the year 1642 ; and his father soon after
ward removing to Abingdon, he received the rudi
ments of his education at the free-school of that place;
whence, at a proper age, he was transferred to Ox
ford, and became a gentleman-commoner of Oriel
CoUege. There, however, he did not remain long
enough to entitle him to a degree ; having in 1658
removed to Gray's Inn, where he appUed himself with
such industry to the study of the law, that he quickly
became an eminent barrister.
In 1685, he was made Recorder of London, by
the King's letters patent, f This office he exe-
* Authorities. Life of Sir John Holt, 1764; Macaulay's
History of England ; Biographia Britannica ; and British Bio
graphy, •j- The reason of his being appointed, as well as his predeces
sor, by the crown, was that the city of London had been de-

SIR JOHN HOLT. 49
cuted with great ability for about a year and a half,
in the course of Which he received the honour of
knighthood ; but decUning to lend his assistance in
support of the dispensing power, which James II. was
then solicitous to exercise, he was removed. He had
previously, also, given offence by ianother instance of
UncourtUness, in refusing to expound the law agree
ably to that Monarch's pleasure.
In 1686, he was called to the degree of Serjeant
at Law ; and being chosen a member of the Conven
tion Parliament in 1688, was appointed one of the
Managers for the Commons, at the conferences held
with the Lords about his Majesty's Abdication and
the consequent vacancy of the Throne. Upon this
important occasion, he had abundant opportunities of
displaying his attachment to a Umited government,
which probably contributed to his advancement after
the Revolution.
After the accession of the new Sovereigns, in
1689, Sir John Holt was made Lord Chief Justice
«f the King's Benbh, and soon afterward sworn
ex officio a member of the Privy CouncU: and
thbugh (as Burnet observes) ' he was a yoiing man
for so high a post, yet he maintained it aU his
time with an high reputation for capacity, inte
grity, courage, iand great despatch; so that, since
the Lord Chief Justice Hale's time, that bench had
not been so weU fiUed as it was by him.' To the
functions of his important office he appUed himself,
indeed, with the utmost assiduity. He was per
fect master of the common law ; and ^ith his soUd
prived of it's charter in 1683 ; but this w^s restored to it at the
Revolution,
VOL. V. E

so SIR JOHN HOLT.
judgement, extensive capacity, and perspicacious un
derstanding he united such a degree of resolution
and intrepidity, that he never could be induced , to ,
swerve for a moment from what he beUeved to be
right. *
. During the period of his presiding in this court,
many cases deeply affecting the Uves, rights, and
Uberties ofthe people came in judgement before him.
In his definitions, there was a remarkable clearness
and perspicuity of ideas ; and a distinct arrangement.
of them, in the analysis of his ratiocinations, • Hav-.
ing rightly formed his premises, he seldom erred in
his conclusions. His arguments * were instructive.
and convincing; and his integrity would never suffer
him, even in compUance with his Prince or with either
House of ParUament, to deviate from truth and
just;ice. i •
A remarkable instance of his pubUc spirit and inte
grity was exhibited upon the foUowing occasion : On
June 20, 1694, he deUvered his admirable argument
in the celebrated case of Lord Banbury. An indict
ment , had been found at Hicks' HaU against^ the
defendant Lord Banbury, by the name of Charles
KnoUys, Esq. for the murther of Captain Lawson,
who had married his sister : this indictment was re
moved by certiorari into the King's Bench, where
the defendant pleaded a misnomer in abatement, viz.
' that WiUiam KnoUys, Viscount WaUingford, by let
ters patent under the great seal of England bearing
date the eighteenth day of August, 2 Car. I. was
created Earl. of Banbury, " to have and to hold the
* They are most of them well reported by Chief Justice Ray
mond,

SIR JOHN HOLT. 51
dignity to him and the heirs male of his body law
fuUy begotten ;" that WUliam had issue Nicholas, his
successor; and that through him the dignity, had de
scended upon the defendant^ as his son and heir.' To
this plea the Attorney Goheral (Sir Edward Ward)
repUed,' that * the defendant, upon the thirteenth of
December, 4 WiUiam and Mary, had preferred a peti
tion to the Lords, then in parUament assembled, that
he might be tried by his Peers ; and that after long
consideration that House, disallowing his peerage, had
dismissed his petition secundum legem parliamentiy
and made an order that he should.be tried by the
course of the common law.' To this repUcation the
defendant demurred, and the Attorney General joined
in demurrer.
Upon this case, which was several times solemnly
argued at the bar, the Court of King's Bencjl unani-
jnously pronounced in favour ofthe defendant. The
Chief Justice in particular gave it as his opinion, in
the strongest terms, that ' the Court could pay no re
gard to the order of the House of Lords, by which it
was attempted to deprive Lord Banbury of his privi
lege; as peerage was an inheritance, and aU inherit
ance must be determined by the law of the land.
" That House (he observed) had no. jurisdiction in
an original cause, because it is the last resort. If the
parUament took cognisance of original causes, the
¦party would lose his appeal, which the common law
indulgeth in aU cases, for which reason the parUa
ment is kept for the last resort ; and causes come not
there, until they have tried all judicatories. If a peer
commits treason, or any other crime, he ought to be
tried by liis peers ; but that does not give them any
E 2

S2 SIR JOHN HOLT.
right to deprive him of his peerage, when the discus^r
sion of his title does not come in a legal manner ber
fore them. The House of Peers has jurisdiction* in*
deed (he admitted) over it's own members, and is a
supreme court : but it is the law, which has invested
them with such ample authorities ; and therefore it is
no diminution of their power to say, that they ought
to observe those Umits which this law has prescribed
for them, which in other respects hath made them so
great.' His Lordship farther remarked, that as to
' the law of parUament,' which had been talked of, he
did not know of any such law ; and every law, wbiefe
binds the subjects of this realm, ought to be either
the common law and usage of the realm, or an act of
parUament. What had been said of the law by the
King's counsel, he considered as only intended to
frighten* the Judges ; but that he did not regard it ;
for though he had aU respect and deference for that
honourable body, yet he sat there to administer jus
tice according to the law of the land and according to
his oath, and that he should regard nothing but the
discharge of his duty.' I
He was afterward summoned to give his reasons
for this judgement to the House of Peers ; and a Com
mittee, of which the Earl of Rochester was chairman,
was appointed to hear and report them to the House.
But with this summons he refused to comply. " If
the record indeed," he said, " were removed before
the Peers by Writ of Error, so that it came judiciaUy
before them, he would give his reasons very wUUngly;
but, if he gave them in this case, it would be of very
ai consequence to aU Judges hereafter in aU cases."
By this answer, some of the Peers were so highly of-

SIR JOHN HOLT. 58
Tendedj that they would have committed his Lordship
to the Tower. But it was deemed improper to pro
ceed to such extremities.*
In 1698, a remarkable cause was tried before his
Lordship at Guildhall, wherein Richard Lane brought
an action against Sir Robert Cotton and Sir Thomas
Frankland as Joint Postmasters General, for that ' a
letter of the plaintiff's, having been deUvered into the
Post-Office by the negligence of the said defendants
was there opened, and divers excheqUer-biUs therein
inclosed were taken away.' In the course of the trial,
some difficult points of law being started, the Jury
brought in a special verdict.
This case, likewise, was several times argued at the
bar ; and three of the Judges pronounced, that 'judge
ment ought to be given against the plaintiff; but
Holt on the other side contended, that ' It would be
very hard on the subject, if the action brought in this
case was not a good one ; for as iJie Crown has a re
venue of 100,000/. per ann. for the management <tf
the Post-Office, care ought to be taken that letters
were safely conveyed, and that the subjects should be
secured in their properties.' The other Judges, how
ever, concurring against him, judgement was giveri
for the defendants. But a writ of error was subse
quently brought and aUowed, on the reason which
had been advanced by the Chief Justice ; so that the
final deternrination of this affair was in favour of the
plaintiff. In the year 1700, when Lord Somers resigned the
• This dispute, about the manner intwhich Lord Banbtiry should
foe tried, proved eventually favourable to that noblema/n, as be
in consequence escaped trial altogether..

54 SIR JOHN HOLT.
Great Seal, King WUliam pressed Holt to accept of
it; but he replied, 'that he never had but one
Chancery cause in his Ufe, which he lost, and conse
quently he could not think himself fitly qualified for
so great a trust.'
In 1701, upon a case of appeal for murther, in
which the King cannot pardon, it was observed by
Judge Treby, that ' an appeal was an odious revenge
ful prosecution, and therefore deserved no encourage
ment.' On this occasion. Holt with great veheirience
exclaimed, ' he wondered that any Englishman should
brand an appeal with the name of " an - odious pro
secution ; " for his part, he looked upon it to be a
nbble remedy, and a true badge of the EngUsh rights
and Uberties.' *
In the .second year of the reign of Queen Anne,
a most important cause was agitated by the Judges
of what was then caUed ' The Queen's Bench,' rela
tive to the right of election for members of parUa
ment ; upon which occasion. Holt distinguished him
self as a steady friend to the Uberties of the subject.
An action had been brought against the constebles of
Aylesbury, as the returning officers of that borough,
at the suit of a Mr. Ashby one of it's burgesses, for
having refused to receive his vote. This was tried
af the assizes, and the defendants were cast in da
mages. But a motion was made in the Queen's
Bench in arrest of judgement, it being aUeged that
' no action laid, or had ever been brought, on that
• His integrity and uprightness as a Judge are celebrated in
the ' Tatler,' No. 14, under the character of Verus. In 1708,
he published Sir John Keyling's Reports, with some notes of his
own, and three modern cases annexed ; Armstrong and Lisle
the King and Plumer, and the Queen and Mawgridge. '

SIR JOHN HOLT. 55
account.' When the case came to be argued, three
of the Judges (Powel, Powis, and Gould) gave it as
their opinion, that ' no hurt had been done to the
man, or at least none but what was too inconsiderable
to deserve the notice of the law : that the judging of
elections belonged to the House of Commons ; and
that as this action was the first of it's, kind, so if it
were aUowed, it woidd bring on an infinity of suits,
and involve aU officers concerned in elections in great
difficulties.' The Chief Justice, however, differed totaUy from
his brethren upon the subject, and expressed his sur
prise at some of the arguments which they had ad
vanced. He maintained, that ' Ashby had a right. to
give his vote ; and, if he was obstructed in the enjoy
ment or exercise of that right, he might legaUy bring
an actiori against the disturber.' " If the plaintiff,"
said he, " has a right, he must of necessity have a
means to vindicate and maintain it, and a remedy, if
he is injured in the exercise or enjoyment of it : and,
indeed, it is a vain .thing to imagine a right without
a remedy ; for want of right and want of remedy are
reciprftal." — " It is no objection to say, that it wiU
occasion multiplicity of actions; for, if men.wiU mul
tiply injuries, actions must be multipUed too; for
every man, that is injured, ought to have his recom-
pence. And, if pubUc officers wiU infringe men's
rights, they ought to pay greater damages than other
men, to deter and hinder other officers from the like-
offehces." — "To aUow this action wiU make pubUc
officers more careful to observe the constitutions of
cities and bbroughs, and not to be so partial as they
commonly are in aU elections, which is indeed a great

56 SIR JOHN HOLT.
and growing mischief, and tends to the prejudice of
the peace of the nation."—" A right that a man hm
to give his vote to the election of a person to repre-f
sent him in parUament, there to concur to the making
Of laws which are to bind his Uberty and propertjf, 13
a most transcendent thing, and of a high nature, an4
the law takes notice of it as such in diters statutes."
— " The right of voting is a right in the plaintiff by
the common law, and consequently he shaU maintain
an action for the obstruction of it." Many othe?
learned arid forcible arguments he adduced on the
same side ; but, the majority of the bench having pro.,
nounced a different opinion, judgement was given foP
the defendants.
On January 14, 1703, this judgement was reversedl
upon appeal iri the House of Peers by fifty Lordsi
against sixteen ; Holt stUl declaring, ' that when.?
ever such a cause should come before him, he should
direct the jury to make the returning officer pay well
for depriving an elector of his vote.' " It is," said he»
" denying him his EngUsh right ; and, if this actiori
is not edlowed, a man may for ever be deprived of it.
It is a great privilege to choose such persons, as are
to bind a man's Ufe and property by the laws they
make." Here, however, the affair of the electors and the
returning officers of Aylesbury did not end. In
December 1704, John Paty and four others, who
had also prosecuted actions at common law against
the constables of Aylesbury, were committed to
Newgate by a warrant froiri the Speaker for a
breach of the privUeges of the House. Their coun
sel having moved for an Habeas Corpus, they were
1

SIR JOHN HOLT. 57
brought up to the Court of Queen's Bench, when
three of the Judges were for remanding them to
prison; but Holt gave his opinion, in the clearest
and strongest manner, that they ought to be dis
charged. The foUowing has been pubUshed as con
taining t-he most remarkable passages of his speech
upon the occasion :
" I am very sorry, I am forced to differ from my
brethren in opinion ; but, whatever inconveniences or
dangers I may incur, I think myself obUged to act
according to my conscience. I must declare it is my
opinion, that the prisoners ought to be discharged,
because it is an iUegal commitment; and Magna
Charta says, Qudd nemo imprisonetur nisi per legem
terrcE. And, if prosecuting a legal action in a legal
method can justify a commitment, then no EngUsh-
man's freedom is safe.
" It is by the law of the land, that the House of
Commons have their being ; therefore, it can never
be in the power of the Commons to control the law.
For my part, I know no privUege of parUament that
can be valid, and at the same time contradict the law
of Englind. " It is by Magna Charta, that the Uberty of an
EngUshman is preserved ; and, without destroying the
constitution of England, the Uberty of an EngUshman
cannot be taken from him but for a legal cause.
" It is, pretended, that acting legaUy is a breach
of the privUeges of the House of Commons, and that
we are not judges of it. This is impossible : when
the law, by which the House of Commons sit, justi
fies the prosecuting of this action ; and it is not in
the power of thCj House of Commons to supersede
4hat power, which .gives them their essence.

58 SIR JOHN HOLT.
" If we can discharge a person committed per mah^
datum regis, d fortiori I think we can discharge
from a comriiitment of the House of Commons.
" The House of Commons, it is true, have a power
over their ovra members, and may commit them : but
to say that their commitment of any other person
(though never so unlawful) is unexaminable, wiU tend
to make EngUshmen slaves, which, whUe I sit here,
I can never consent to."
The Chief Justice then observing, that several
members of the House of Commons were in court,
(Lord Dysart, Mr. Bromley, &c.) added; " I hope
never to be Overawed from doing justice, and I think
we sit here to administer equal justice to aU her Ma
jesty's subjects; and therefore it is my judgement,
that these prisoners ought to be discharged."
In this case, however, he was again over-ruled by
the majbrity of his . brethren on the bench. Jbhn
Paty and one of his feUow-prisoners now moved for a
Writ of Error, to bring the matter before the House
of Lords. This writ was only to be obtained by peti
tioning her Majesty, that ' the judgement of the
Court of Queen's Bench might be brought before her
Majesty in parUament.' The Commons, alarmed' at
these petitions, carried up an address to the Queen,
desiring her not to grant the writ of error. The
opinion of the Judges was taken upon this ; when
ten of them, of whom Holt was one, agreed that in
civU matters a petition for a Writ of Error was a
petition of right, and not of grace. That the House
of Commons, therefore, should desire the Queen not
to grant a petition of right, in opposition to the', very
terms of her corohation-oath, was to be regarded: as
a measure, which might be foUowed by the most

SIR JOHN HOLT. 59
pernicious consequences ; and the House of Lords,
among other, votes upon the occasion, passed the
foUowing :
" That neither House of ParUament has any power,
by any vote or declaration, to create to themselves
any new privUege, that is not warranted by the known
laws and customs of parUament.
" That every freeman of England, who apprehends
himself to be injured, has a right to seek redress by
action at law ; and that the commencing and prose
cuting of an action at common law against any per
son, not entitled to privilege of parUament, is legal.
" That the House of Commons, in committing to
Newgate John Paty, &c. for commencing and prose
cuting an action at the common law, against the con
stables of Aylesbury, for not aUowing their votes in
election of members to serve in parUament, upon pre
tence that their so doing was contrary to a declara
tion, a contempt of the jurisdiction, and a breach of
the privilege of that House, have assumed to them
selves, alone a legislative authority, by pifetending , to
attribute the force of a law to their declaration ; have
claimed a jurisdiction riot warranted by the constitu
tion ; and have assumed a new privUege, to which
they can have no title by the laws and customs of
parUament : and have thereby, as far as in them Ues,
subjected the rights of EngUshmen and the freedom
of their persons to the arbitrary votes of the House
of Commons."
This affair at length occasioned so violent a contest
between the two Houses, that the Queen in order to
put an end to it dissolved the parUament in AprU,
1705. Sir John Holt held the office of Chief Justice for

eo SIR JOHN HOLT
the space of twenty one years, with the highest credit
to himself, and the greatest advantage to his country
He died March 5, 1709, at his house in Bedford Row>
after a Ungering Ulness, in the sixty eighth year of his
age ; and was interred in the parish-church of Red*
grave, in the county of Suffolk, where a sumptuous
marble monument was erected to his memory. H6
married Anne,* daughter of Sir John Cropley, Bart.,
but left no issue. !
He had a just sense of the extreme danger of calling
in the mUitary power, under the pretence of assisting
the civil magistrates in the execution of the laws, and
would not upon any occasion give it his countenance.
WhUe he held the office of Chief Justice, a riot oc
curred in Holbom, in consequence of a wicked prac
tice at that time prevalent, of decoying young persons
of both sexes to the plantations. These victims were
kept prisoners in Holbom, tUl they could be shipped
off; which being discovered, the enraged populace
were about to puU down the house. A party of
the guards were immediately ordered thither. An
officer, however, was first despatched to the Chief
Justice, apprising him of the design, and requesting
the co-operation of the civU power. On receiving the
message. Holt inquired, " Suppose the populace should
not disperse at your appearance, what are you to do
then?" " We have orders, my Lord (answered the
officer) to fire upon them." « Have you. Sir (repUed
the Chief Justice)? then take notice of what I say : If
* If we may trust an extract of a Letter from Arbuthnot to
Swift (quoted by Chalmers), they did not live very happily to
gether : « I took the same pleasure in saving him (Gay), as Rad-
diff did in preserving my Lord Chief Justice Holt's wife, whom
lie attended out of spite to the husband, who wished her dead."

SIR JOHN HOLT. e«
theye be one man kUled, and you are tried before me,
I wiU take care that you and every soldier of your
party shaU be hanged. Go back. Sir, to those who
sent you, and acquaint them that ' no officer of mine
shall attend soldiers ;' and let them know at the same
time, that ' the laws of this kingdom are not to be
executed by the sword : ' these matters belong to the
civU power, and you have nothing to do with them."
He then ordered his tipstaves, with a few constables,
to attend him ; went himself in person into the midst
of the tumult, expostulated witii the mob, and as
sured them that 'justice should be done upon the
objects of their indignation ; ' upon which, they all
quietly dispersed.
Two entertaining incidents of his Ufe, preserved
in a coUection of ' Anecdotes of Eminent Persons,'
though of somewhat dubious authority, shaU here be
inserted. He was extremely wild, it is said, in his youth ;
and being once engagfed with some of his raking
companions in a trip into the countiy, in which
they had spent aU their money, it was resolved that
they should try their fortune separately. Holt got
to an inn at the end of a straggUng viUage, and or
dering his horse to be taken care of, bespoke supper
and a bed. He then stroUed into the kitchen, and
seeii^ a girl about thirteen years old shivering with
an ague, inquired of his landlady ' who she was, and
how long she had been iU ? ' The good woman told
him, that ' she was her only chUd, and had been UI
neariy a year, notwithstanding aU the assistance she
could procure from physic' He shook his head at
the doctors, and bade her ' be under no farther con-
<?em, for that her daughter should never have anothei!

^2 SIR JOHN HOLl*.
fit.' He then wrote a few uninteUigible words iri
court-hand on a scrap of parchment, which had been '
the direction to a hamper, and roUing it up, ordered
that ' it should be bound upon the girl's wrist, and
remain there untU she was well.' As it hapipened,
the ague returned no more; and Holt after having
remained there a week, caUing for his bUl, "God
bless you," said the old woman, "you're nothing in
my debt, I'm sure ; I wish, on the contrary, that I
was able to pay you for the cure, which you have
performed upon my daughter ; if I had had the hap
piness to see you ten months ago, it would have ,
saved me forty pounds." With pretended reluctance
he accepted his accommodation as a recompence, and'
rode away.
Many years afterward, he went a circuit as one of
the Judges of the King's Bench into the same county,
when among other criminals an old woman was
brought before him charged with witchcraft. To
support this charge, several witnesses swore that ' she
had a speU, with which she could either cure such
cattle as were si ?k, or destroy those that were weU :
in the use of this speU she had been lately detected,
and it was now ready to be produced in court.' Upon
this, the Judge desired it might be handed up to him.
It was a dirty baU, wrapped round with several rags,
and bound with packthread : these coverings he care
fuUy removed, and beneath them found a piece of
parchment. Which he immediately recognised as his
own youthful fabrication. For a few moments he
remained silent ; at length, recoUecting himself, he
addressed the Jury to the foUowing effect : " Gentle
men, I must now relate a particular of my Ufe, which
very iU suits my present character, and the station in

SIR JOHN HOLT. 6J
which I sit; but to qonceal it, would be' to aggravate
the foUy for which I ought to atone, to endanger
innocence, and to countenance superstition. This
bauble, which you suppose to have the power of Ufe
and death, is a senseless scrawl which I wrote with
my own hand, and gave to this woman, whom for no
other cause you accuse as a witch." He then related
the particulars of the transaction, with such an effect
upon the minds of the people, that his old land
lady was the last person tried for witchcraft in that
county. The second is as foUows : Being once upon the
bench at the Old BaUey, he convicted of a robbery
a feUow, whom he remembered to have been one of
his old companions. Moved by curiosity to ascertain
the fortune of his early contemporaries, he inquired
• what was become of Tom Such-a-one, and WUl
Such-a-one, and the rest of the party to which they
belonged?' Upon which the feUow, with a deep
sigh and a low bow, repUed, " Ah ! my Lord, they
are all hanged, except your Lordship and I."

GILBERT BURNET.
BISHOP OF SALISBURY.*
[1643—1715.]

Gilbert BURNET was bom at Edinburgh,
September 18, 1643. His father, the younger
brother of an ancient family in Aberdeenshire, was
bred to the civU law ; in which, though his modestyj-
i|;oo much depressed his abiUties, he attained so high
a repjitation, that on the Restoration he was ap
pointed one of the Scottish Lords of Session by the
title of Lord Cramond. His mother was sister to
* Authorities. Judge Burnet's Life of his Father ; Bic
graphia Britannica i and Rapin's History qf England.
f It was his fixed practice, " never to take a fee from the
poor, nor from a clergyman suing in the right of his church;
and he bestowed a great part of his profits in acts of charity and
friendship. As he censured the conduct of the governing
Bishops of the -day, he was generally called ' a Puritan.' But
when he saw that the order itself was struck at, he adhered to
it with great zeal and constancy, as he did to the rights of the
crown: not once complying with that party, which afterward
prevailed in both nation^. For though he agreed with Barclay
and Grotius, with the latter of whom he had been intimately
acquainted, as to their notions of resistance when the laws are
broken through by a limited sovereign, yet he did not think that
was then the case in Scotland." (Chalmers.) The passage re
ferred to in Grotius occurs in his De Jure Belli ac Pacis, I. iv,
7. 3. &c. Dicat tdiquis, ' rigidam illam obligationem, Sfc'

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 65
the celebrated Sir Alexander Johnstoun, caUed, Lord
Waristoun, and a warm zealot for Presbytery.
His principles, however, as he refused to ac
knowledge CromweU's authority, having thrown
him out of employment during the Interregnum,
he took upon himself the charge of his son's
education. Even at Aberdeen, whither he sent
him with a pofect knowledge of Latin at ten
years . of age, he stUl continued his principal in
structor ; and by rousing him to his studies at four
o'clock every morning, gave him the habit of early
risingj which he only discontinued a few years before
his death. At this University he acquired the Greek
language, and went through the usual course of
Aristotelian logic and philosophy with signal ap
plause. At fourteen, he commenced M.A. After
he had taken his degree, his father, though he had
designed him for the church, was unwUUng to divert
him from indulging his passion for the civU and
feudal law, to which he appUed himself a whole
year; receiving from it, as he was often heard to
declare, 'juster notions concerning the foundations of
civil society and government than are maintained by
some divines.' After this, he altered his purpose,
and with his father's warm approbation engaged in
the study of theology.
In his hours of amusement, he ran through many
volumes of history ; and, as he had a strong consti
tution with a prodigious memory, made himself
master of an immense extent of learning, which he
thus had ready for use upon aU occasions.
At eighteen, he was admitted a probationer, or
expectant preacher; and, soon afterward, received
VOL. V. F

66 GILBERT BURNET,
the offpr of a good benefice from his cousin Sfr Alej^..^
ander Burnet, which in consideration of his youth,
however, he decUned. On March 23, 1663, he was
elected a FeUow of the Royal Society.
In 1669, about two years after the death of his
father, he visited England; and after six months'
stay at Cambridge* and Oxford, and a visit to Lon
don, returned to Scotland. In 167*, he set off
upon a tour of some months in HoUand and France.
At Amsterdam, by the help of a Jewish Rabbi, he
not only perfected himself in the Hebrew language,
but likewise formed an intimacy with the principal
Calviriists, Arminians, Lutherans, Anabaptists, Brown-
ists,- Papists; and Uriitarians ; airiong whom he used
frequently to affirm, ' he met with men of sucK
piety and virtue, that he became fixed in a strong
pririciple of universal charity, and an invincible
abhbrrence of aU severities on account of differences
of reUgibus opinion.' At Paris he became acquainted
with the two cfelebrated ministers of Charentori,
DaU16 and Moms : and he was treated with great
kindness by Lord HblUs, then EngUsh Embassador
at the French Court.
Upon his return to Scotland in 1665, he was ad
mitted into holy orders by the Bishop of Edinburgh;
and presented to the Uving of Saltoun, which had
* At Cambridge, he had an opportunity of conversing with
Drs. Cudworth, Pearson, Thomas Burnet, and Henry More:
and at Oxford, his accurate knowledge of the Councils and the
Fathers strongly recommended him to Drs. Fell, Pocock, arid
Wallis. The latter giving him a letter of introduction to the
Hon. Robert Boyle, he was introduced in London to Tillotsori,
StiUingfleet, Patrick, Lloyd, Whichcot, and Wilkins, of the
clergy; and, of the laity, to Sir Robert Murray.

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 67
been kept vacant during his absence, by Sir Robert
Fletcher.* In 1666, the conduct of the Scottish
Bishops seemed to him so unworthy of the episcopal
character, that he drew up a ijiemorial of their. abuses.
This, Archbishop Sharp considered as a high indig
nity, and proposed his deprivation and excommuni
cation : but the spirit, with which Burnet defended
himself, protected him from so violent a retribution.
During the five years which he spent at Saltoun,
he preached tvrice every Sunday, and once on one of
the week-days : he catechised three times a week, . so
as to examine every parishioner, old and young,
thrice a year: he went round the parish from house
to house, imparting instruction, reproof, or comfort
as occasion required : the sick he visited twice a day :
and he adrtiinistered the sacrament four times a year,
personaUy instructing aU such as gave notice of their
intention to receive it. The surplus of his income,
after a very frugal expenditure, he bestowed in
charity. In 1668, he was employed, on the suggestion of
his friend Sir Robert Murray, in negotiating a
scheme of accommodation between the Episcopal
and Presbyterian parties: and,, by his advice, . many
ofthe latter were put into; the vacant churches.
That measure, however, he' himself subsequently
condemned as indiscreet.

* He had previously declined it, probably as thinking himself
still too young.. Though he was at this tjme the only clergyman
in Scotland, who read the Church of England Liturgy, yet so
exemplary was he in the discharge of his parochial duty, that
he gained the esteem even of the Presbyterians. It was, indeed,
a radical part of his character, to spare no pains in the per
formance of every function that devolved upon him.
F 2

68 GILBERT BURNET,
The yeai- foUowing, he was made Diviriity Pro
fessor at GMs^wJ and continued to fUl the chair fof
four years arid a half, equaUjjr hated by the zealots
of both parties^ A wQrk, hbwever, which he pub
Ushed at this time, entitled ' A modest and frefe
Conference between a Conforriiist and a Nori-cos-
formist,' acquired hini corisiderable credit with'morg
Uberal characters. In his frequeat visits to the
Duchess bf Hamilton, he so far gained he? confi
dence, as to be entrusted with the arrangefflent of
the papers relating to her father^ and hel" Uflcle't
ministry. This led him to compose his ' Memoirs bf
the Dukes of Handlton,'' and occjteioned his bel»f
invited to London by the Earl of Lauderdde, whd
offered to furnish him with several importeant anec*.
dotes for that purpose.
During his stay in the EngUsh eapital^ he W^
offered the choice of four Scottish biihopricg, all of
which he refused. Upon his return' to Glasgow,- he
married Lady Margaret Kennedy, daughter to the
Earl of CassUisi a lady of g^eat piety and ftcqwJre-
ments, arid in high estimatibft amon^ the Pj^sby*
terians> to whose sentiments she was strongly indined,
As there was some disparity however in their ag^
that the match might not be referred to avarice at
ambition, the day before their marriage he ^ve the
lady a deed renouncing aU pretension to her large
fortune, which must otherwise (as she had no wish to
t^serve it) have come into his hands.
Under the influence probably of his noWe m-
riexions, Burnet, who certainly was nbt unlfbrmly
consistent in his poUtical opinions, pubUshed in 167^
* A Vindication of the Authority, Constitution^ ani
Laws of the Churdi and St^te of Scotland.* Thi«

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 69
defence of the prerogative of the Crown of Scotland
gainst the principles of Buchanan and hia foUowers,
dedicated to the arbitrary Duke of Lau4erdale,t
was deemed at that juncture of so much importance,
that he was again offered a bishopric, with the
promise of the first archbighoprie vacant ; but, as
Jje found that the great design of the court was
to advance Popery, he again decUned the offer-
In 1673, he took anothey journey to Londpni and
Jiavimg preached before the King, was ty his Ma
jesty's own riomwfttiori made one of his GhapMng
in Ordinary, He, also, stobd high in favour with the
Duke of York.
The foUowing year, he was obUged to ret«r»
into the gomth, to jurtify hipiaejf against the accur
sations of Lauderdale, who had imputed tb him
the nuscarriage of aU the cpurt-measiires in S<?ot-
lajjd. The J^ng, though at first he jjee^ved hi^
c;oldlyj and ordered his name to be gtrupk out g^
the Ust of Chaplaiusi at the Dukg of York'§ mtm^
ceg^ion cpri§§nted to hear what he coyld offer m hi?
own jugtificatiori, arid was appaa-ently gatisfed with
it. Ag Lauderdate however had npt dropped his
riisentment, Bsmet, who wag informed that Im ene
mies Intended to progure his imprigflpment, resigned
Ms Professor's chMr, aud reiolyed to settle in London,
Her# he pFeaphed in several churches, and would
• His dedication he afterward efldesvoured to (suppress,
wWch giv^s an additional value to tbg wpi?s containing it. It
was fitting, indeed, that he should do all he could to suppress a
fmegyw 90 grpssly st varispcp with tb? clwraotcr of that
»<jWe«9tin drajyn by bJpi in hijs ' Uktorif pf bis Own Tjw^s,'
A. D. ^^. il, JOJ,)

70 GILBERT BURNET,
have actuaUy been chosen minister of one of them,
had not the electors been deterred from their purpose
by'a royal letter.
About this time, the Uving of Cripplegate be-
cbriiirig vacant, the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul's,
hearing of his circumstances and his sufferings, sent
him an offer of it; but, as he had been apprised of
their previous intention of conferring it upon Dr.
Eowler, he generously decUned their patronage.
In 1675, on the recommendation of Lord HolUs,
he was by Sir Harbottle Giimstone, Master ofthe
RoUs, notwithstanding the opposition of the court,
appointed Preacher of that Chapel. He was soon
afterward, Ukewise, chosen Lecturer of St. Clement's,
and became one of the most popular preachers in the
metropoUs. In the same year, he was repeatedly examined at
the bar of the House of Commons respecting the
designs of Lauderdale, and was obUged to disclose
some things which had passed between them in pri
vate conversation. In 1676, he pubUshed his ' Me
moirs of the Dukes of Haimlton,' and also his
' Account of a Conference between himself, Dn
StiUingfleet, and Coleman.' He also first gave to
the world in the ensuing year, with an exceUent
preface, S'cougal's* invaluable Essay on the 'Life
of God in the Soul of Man;' which was subsequently
repubUshed, with a recommendatory Advertisement
by Principal Wishart.
In 167^, appeared tiie first Volume of his
., * Scougal was the son of a Bishop of Aberdeen, and after
having successively filled the chairs of Philosophy and Divinity
m that University, died in 1679, at the early age of 28 •

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 71
* History of the Reformation;' for which he re
ceived the unprecedented honour of the thanks of
both Houses of ParUament, with a request that he
would prosecute the work. Two years afterward,
the second volume, the composition of which subse
quently to his arranging the materials* occupied
only the short space of six weeks, was honoured with
the same token of senatorial approbation.
It was on the twenty-ninth of January, 1680,
that he. addressed to his unprincipled Sovereign the
foUowing Letter:
" May it please your Majesty,
" I have not presumed to trouble your Majesty for
some months, not having any thing worth your.time
"to offer ; and now I choose rather this way, since the
* The third, which was supplementary, did not appear till
1714. This great and elaborate work is usually esteemed the
best of his writings, and most contributed to raise his reputation
both at home and abroad, as the fullest account of the trans
actions which it relates, from the reign of Henry VIII. to
the final establishment of the Reformed Faith under Elizabeth
in 1559. The Collection of Records, which he gives at the
«nd of each volume, are good vouchers of his correctness ;
and are more perfect, indeed, than could reasonably have been
expected, after the pains taken by Queen Mary to suppress
documents of such a description. Even his keenest enemy,
Henry Wharton, allows it to possess ' a reputation ^rmly and
deservedly established.' To his French antagonists, M. Va-
rillas and M. Le Grand, as well as to a domestic adversary
Mr. S. Lo'wth (who charged him, in his account of some of
Cranmer's opinions, with having ' unfaithfully joined' Dr. Stil-
lingfleet in endeavouring to depreciate episcopal ordination) he
himself replied : as well as to Mr. Wharton, who assumed the
name of Antony Harmer, and to Dr. Hickes' ' Discoiirses on
Dr.' Burnet and Dr. Tillotson.' There are French, Latin, and
Dutch translations of the first two parts : and, in 1682, he him
self published an Abridgement of them in Svo.

7^ GILBERT BURNET,
infinite duty I owe you puts me under restraints in
discourse, which I cannot so easUy overcome. What
I shaU now suggest to your Majesty, I do it as in
the presence of Almighty God, to whom I know I
must give an account of aU my actions : I therefore
beg you wUl be graciously pleased to accept this most
faithful zeal of your poor subject, who hath no other
design in it than your good, and the discharge of his
own conscience.
" I must first, then, assure your Majesty, I never
discovered any thing Uke a design of raising rebeUion
among aU those with whom I converse ; but I shaU
add, on the other hand, that most people grow suUen,
are highly dissatisfied with you, and distrustful of
you. Formerly your ministers, or his Royal High
ness (the Duke of York) bore the blame of things
trngTateftil : but now it faUs upon yourself; and time,
which cures most other distempers, increases this.
Your last speech makes many think, it wiU be easy
to fetch up petitions from aU parts of England. Tins
is now under consultation, and is not yet deter^
mined ; but I find so many inclined to promote theiMi
that as far as I can judge, it wiU go that way. If
your Majesty caU a new parUament, it is beUeved^
that those who have promoted the petitions wiU he
generaUy elected : for the inferior sort of people arc
much set upon them, and make their judgement of
men from their behaviour in that matter. The
soberer sort* of those, who are Ui pleased with your
conduct, reckon that either the state of your affairs
beyond sea, or of your exchequer at home, WiU ere
long necessitate your meeting your parUament, and
that then things must be rectified: and, therefore,
they use their utmost endeavours to keep all quiet.

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. ?3
" If your Majesty hath a session in April for sup-»
porting your aUies, I find it is resolved by many^
that the money necessary to maintain your alUances
shaU be put into the hands of Commissioners, to
issue it as they shaU answer it to the two Houses j
and these wUl be so chosen, that as it is Ukely that
the persons wiU be very unacceptable to you, so they
being trusted with the money wiU be as a CouncU
of State to control aU your councUs. And as to
your exchequer, I do not find any inclination to
consider your necessity, unless many things be done
to put them into another disposition than I can ob
serve in them.
" The things that wiU be demanded wUl not be
of so easy a digestion, as that I can imagine you
wiU ever be brought to them, or indeed that it wiU
be reasonable or honourable for you to grant them.
So that, in this disorder of affairs, it is easy to propose
difficulties, but not so easy to find out that which
may remove them.
" There is one thing, and indeed the. only thing,
in which all honest men agree, as that which can
easUy extricate you out of aU your troubles : it is not
the change of a Minister, or of a CouncU, a new
Alliance, or a Session of ParUament ; but it is (and
suffer me. Sir, to speak it with a more than ordinary
earnestness) a change in your own heart, and in
your course of Ufe. And now. Sir, if you do not
with indignation throw this paper from you, permit
me with aU the humUity of a subject prostrate at
your feet to teU you, that aU the distrust your
people have of you, aU the necessities you are now
under, aU the indignation of Heaven that is now
upon you and appears in the defeating aU your

74 GILBERT BURNET,
councUs, flow from this ; that you have not feared
or served God, but have given yourself up to so
many sinful pleasures. Your Majesty may, per
haps, justly think, that many of those that oppose
you have no regard to reUgion ; but the body of your
people consider it more than you imagine. I do not
desire your Majesty to put on an hypocritical show
of reUgion, as Henry III. of France did, hoping to
have weathered the storms of those times. No!
that would be soon seen through ; and, as it would
provoke God more, so it would increase jealousies.
No, Sir ; it must be real, and the evidences of it
signal : aU those about you who are the occasion of
sin, chiefly the women, must be removed, and your
Court reformed. Sir, if you. wUl turn you to re
ligion sincerely and seriously, you shaU quickly find
a serene joy of another nature possess your mind,
than what arises from gross pleasures : God wiU be
at peace with you, and direct and bless aU your coun
cils : aU good men would presently turn to you, and
ill men would be ashamed and have a thin party.
For I speak it knowingly, there is nothing hath so
aUenated the body of your people from you, as what
they have heard of your life, which disposes them to
give an easy beUef to aU other scandalous reports.
" Sir, this counsel is now almost as necessary for
your affairs, as it is for your soul : and though you
have highly offended that God, who hath been in
finitely mercUul to you in preserving you at Worr
cester fight and during your long exUe, and who
brought you back so miraculously, yet he is stUl good
and gracious, and wUl upon your sincere repentance
and change of Ufe pardon all your sins, and receive
you into his favour. Oh ! Sfr, what if you should

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 75
die in the midst of aU your sins? At the great tri
bunal, where you must appear, there wUl be no
regard to the crown you now wear ; but it wiU
aggravate your punishment that, being in so eminent
a station, you have so much dishonoured God. Sfr,
I hope you believe there is a God, and a life to come,
and that sin shaU not pass unpunished. If your
Majesty wiU reflect upon your having now been
twenty years upon the throne, and in aU that time
how Uttle you have glorified God, how much' you
have provoked him, and that your iU example hath
drawn so many after you to sin that men are not
now ashamed of thefr vices ; you cannot but think,
that God is offended with you : and, if you consider
how iU your councUs at home and your wars abroad
have succeeded, and how much you have lost the
hearts of your people, you may reasonably conclude
this is of God, who wiU not turn away his anger
from you tUl you turn to him with your whole heart.
- " I am no enthusiast, either in opinion or temper ;
yet I acknowledge I have been so pressed in niy mind
to make this address to you, that I could have no
ease tiU I did it ; and since you were pleased to dfrect
me to send you through Mr. Chiffinch's hands such
information as I thought fit to convey to you, I hope
your Majesty wUl not be offended, if I have made
this use of that Uberty. " I am sure I can have no
other design in it, than your good ; for I know very
weU, this is not the method to serve any ends of my
own. I therefore throw myself at your feet, and
once more, in the name of God whose servant I am,
do most humbly beseech your Majesty to consider of
what I have written ; and not to despise it for the
meanness of the person who hath sent it, but to

7(5 GILBERT BURNET,
apply yourself to reUgion in earnest : and J dare
assure you of many blessings both tempord and spiT
ritual in this Ufe, and of eternal glory in the Ufe-to
come.' But if you go on in your sins, the judge*
ments of God wiU probably pursue you in this Ufe,
9Q that you may be a proverb to after-ages; and,
after this life, you wUl be for ever miserable ; and I,
your poor subject that now am, shall be a witness
against you in the great day, that I gave you this
free and faithful warning. Sir, no person aUve
knows, that I have written to you to this purpose ;
and I chose this evening, hoping your exercise to»
morrow (January 80,) may put you in a disposition to
weigh it more carefuUy. I hope your Majesty wiU
not be offended with this sincere expression of my
duty to you; for I durst not have ventured on it, if
I had not thought myself bound to it both by the
duty I owe to God and that which wUl ever ob%8
me to be. May it please your Majesty, Sue."
The occasion of the above Letter, which is pre
served in the ' Life of Burnet' prefixed to the edi-
tion of the * History of his own Times' by Dr.
Flaxman, arose from Burnet's attendance at the
death-bed of Mrs. Roberts, one of tbe King's miar
tresses, for whom he drew up an epistie of such
tender expostulation as it might have been fit for
her to address to the royal associate of her guiltj
hut she never had the vigour to transcribe it, Upw*
which* he resolved ' to write himself a very strong
fetter to his Majesty.'*
* It does not seem necessary, with Dr. ^ikjn, to infer from
the fact of Charles' throwing it (af^er a second perusal) into the
£»e> that there was a want either of judgement or of delicacy
mthe reproof; since it wom b^ bard ti? cQjjgpive any t^jm flf

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 77
Upon the mediation, however, of Lord Halifax a
momentary reconciUation took place, and the Mas
tership of the Temple was promised to the writer;
but, upon his refusing to reUnquish the society of
his friends, the Earl bf Essex, Lbrd RusseU, and Sir
WilUam Jones, ' he was (to adopt his own expression)
where he was before.'
About this time he attended a sick person, Who
had been engaged in an amour with the Earl of
Rochester. The manner, in which he conducted
himself during her iUness, excited in that nobleman
an ardent desire to become acquainted with him;
and throughout a whole winter he spent one evening
a weds; with him, discussing aU those topics, upon
wWdi men of Ught faith and loose morals attack
Christianity -The happy effect of these conferences
is recorded in his invaluable account of the Ufe and
death of that witty and repentant profligate; An
account, wMch (as Dr. Johnson has declared, in his
• Lives of the Poets') " the critic ought to read for
it's elegance, the philosopher for it's argument, and
the saint for it's piely^." Wordsworth's weU-chosen
motto, from Bishop Taylor, for the reprint of his
Ufe is, " Deceive not yourselves : God's mercy cannot
be made a pattern for any man's impiety. The
purport of it is, to bring us to repentance; and
God wiU do it by the mercies of his mercy, or by
the mercies of his judgements."
During the affafr of the Popish Plot, he was
ojfiten consulted by Charles II. upon the state of the
nacion; and about the same time he refused the

iL hoi1:alory character so managed, as not to have appeared
isipertinent and officious to such a reader.

78 GILBERT BURNET, .
bishopric of Chichester, which his .Majesty: offered .
him ' provided he would entirely come into his in-;
terest.' His unprejudiced, conduct at this period;
the efforts which he made to save the Uves of Stanley*
and Lord Stafford (hoth zealous Papists), his mode
rate language relative to the exclusion of the Duke
of York, and his proposal of a Prince Regent in
his stead, are sufficiently related in the 'History of
his Own Times.' , "
In l68g, on the change of administration in fa
vour of the Duke, being much resorted tb by persons
of aU parties, in order to avoid returning visits he
buUt a laboratory, and went through a course of
chemical experiments. Not long afterward, he re
fused a Uving of three hundred pounds per ann.,
offered him by the Earl of Essex on condition of
his continuing to reside in London.
His behaviour on the trial of Lord RusseU, his
attendance upon him in prison and at his execution^
and a suspicion of his being concerned in drawing up
that nobleman's speech, having excited against him
the indignation of the court,, he took a short tour to
Paris; where, by the express dfrection of the French
monarch, he was treated with unusual civiUty, and
became acquainted with several eminent persons.
Not thinking it right, however, to be longer absent.
from his professional duties, he returned to London ;.
and was soon aftervirard, in pursuance of the royaj
mandate, discharged from his lectureship at St.
Clement's. Having also in a sermon at the RoU's
Chapel, on the fifth of November 1684, severely
inveighed against the doctrines of Popery, he was
forbidden to preach there any more. His text, Ps.
xxU. 21, Sav^ mcfrom the Lion's mouth : thou hast

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 79
heard me from the horns of the Unicorns, was
thought to contain a bold reference to the supporters
of the royal arms, though the preacher asserts that
he intended no such aUusion. The discourse itself
was deemed equaUy bold, especiaUy in quoting the
imprecation of James I. against any of his posterity,
who shonld endeavour to introduce Popery. He
pubUshed, about this period, several works favourable
to Uberty and Protestantism, among which stand
most deservedly high his Lives of Sfr Matthew Hale
and Bishop BedeU.
Upon the accession of the new Moriarch, he ob
tained leave to quit the kingdom. After visiting
Paris, he proceeded to Rome, where he met with a
most hospitable reception; the Pope himseLf (Inno
cent II.) sending him word that ' to supersede the
ceremony of kissing his HoUness' sUpper, he woidd
give him a private audience in bed ; ' but from this
Dr. Burnet excused himself.
One erening, on visiting ,, Cardinal Howard, he
found him distributing reUcs to two French gentle
men ; upon which, he whispered to him in EngUsh
his siurprise, that ' an EngUsh priest should be at
Rome, helping them off with the ware of Babylon.'
The Cardinal ,smUed at the remark, and repeating
it in French to his visitors, bade them teU thefr
countrymen, ' how bold the heretics and how mUd
the cardinals were in that city.'
Some disputes however, which Burnet held during
his stay concerning reUgion, beginning to be taken
notice bf, upon an intimation received from Prince
Borghese he pursued his travels through Switzer
land and Germany. Of these he has given an ac
count in his ' Travels,' pubUshed in 1687. When
5

80 GILBERT BURNET,
at Geneva, he warmly recommended to it's clergy
some relaxation in the subscription requfred for
orders, the rigour of which had caused the expatria
tion of many worthy men and the insincere com-
pUance of others.
In 1686, arrivmg at Utrecht, with the intention
of settUng in some of the Seven Provinces, he re
ceived an invitation from the Prince and Princess of
Orange to the Hague ; and being admitted to their
secret councUs, he advised'the fitting out of a fleet
in Holland for the purpose of encouraging their
friends.* This, and the account of his Travels, in
* " It is not to be understood," says Mr. Fox (speaking of
some exiled conspirators) " that there were no other names ,
upon the list of those who fled from the tyranny of the British
government, or thought themselves unsafe in their native country
on account of it's violence, beside those of the persons above-
mentioned, and of such as joined in their bold and hazardoui
enterprise. Another class of emigrants, not less sensible pro
bably to the wrongs of their country, but less sanguine in their
hopes of immediate redress, is ennobled by the names of Burnet
the historian and Mr. Locke. It is difficult to accede to the
opinion, which the first of these seems to entertain, that ' though
particular injustices had been committed, the misgovernmenl
had not been of such a nature as to justify resistance by arras.'
But the prudential reasons against resistance, at that time, were
exceedingly strong ; and there is no point in human concerns,
wherein the dictates of virtue and worldly prudence are so
identified, as in this grealf question of resistance by force to
established government. « Success,' it has been invidiously re
marked, ' constitutes in most instances the sole difference between
the traitor and the deliverer of his country.' A rational proba
bility of success, it may be truly said, distinguishes the well-
considered enterprise of the patriot from the rash schemes ofthe
disturber of the public peace. To command success, is not in
the power of man : but to deserve success, by choosing a
proper time as well as a proper object, by the prudence of his
means no less than by the purity of his views, by a cause not
1

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 81
which he represents Popery arid tyranny as inse
parable, with some of his papers reflecting on the
proceedings of England, induced James II. to insist
by his Embassador that he should be forbidden the
Dutch Court. He continued, however, to be trusted
and employed as before. And a report beirig circu
lated, that he was on the point of "being married to
a lady of considerable fortune* at the Hague, in
order to prevent this and to put an end to his fre
quent conferences with the ministers, a prosecution
for high treason was set on foot against him both
in England and Scotland : but, by obtaining a bUl
of naturaUsation with a view to his intended mar
riage, he avoided the storm.
Being now legally placed under the protection of
HoUand, he undertook, in a letter tb the Earl of
Middleton, to answer aU the matters laid to his
charge ; adding that ' he regarded his aUegiance,
during his stay in these parts, as transferred from his
only intrinsically just but likely to insure general support, is the
indispensable duty of him who engages in an insurrection against
an existing government. Upon this subject the opinion of
Ludlow, who though often misled appears to have been an
honest and enlightened man, is striking and forcibly expressed :
' We ought (says he) to be very careful and circumspect in
that particular, and at least be assured of very probable grounds,
to believe the power under which we engage to be sufficiently
able to protect us in our undertaking : otherwise, I should ac
count myself guilty not only of my own blood, but also in some
measure of the ruin and destruction of all those that I should
induce to engage with me, though the cause were never so
just.' "
* Mrs. Mary Scot, who to the advantage of birth and wealth
united those of a fine person and cultivated understanding. She
was originally descended from the^ Scots of Buccleugb, in Scot
land.
VOL. V. G

82 GILBERT BURNET,
Majesty to the States General.' In another letter,
Ukewise, he stated that, ' if upon non-appearance a
sentence should be passed against him, he should
for his own justification be compeUed to give an ac
count of the share he had taken in pubUc affafrs,
in which he might be led to mention what he
was afraid woifld not be very satisfactory to his
Majesty.' These expressions gave such offence to the EngUsh
Court, that dropping the former prosecution, they
proceeded against him a? guilty of high treason : a
sentence of outlawry was passed upon him; and the
King having in vain demanded his person, insisted
subsequently that ' he should be banished from the
Seven Provinces.' This the States reftised,' alleging,
that ' he was become thefr subject ; and, if his Ma
jesty had any thing to lay to his charge, justice
should be done in their courts.'
Being thus secured from all danger, he proceeded
to forward the important affafr of the Revolution.
He gave early notice of it to the Court of Hanover ;
intimating, that ' it's effectuation might probably end
in the succession of that iUustrious House to the
British crown.' He wrote, also, several pamphlets
in support of the designs of the Prince of Orange,
assisted in drawing up his Declaration and other
papers, and when he set off upon his expedition, ac
companied him as Chaplain. Upon his landing Ukcr
wise at Exeter, he suggested the Association^ and
was of no smaU service, by his pulpit-eloquence, in
confirming or converting proselytes to the great cause
in which they were embarked.
During these transactions Dr. Crewe, Bishop of
Durham, who had rendered himself obnoxious by his

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 83
conduct ih the High Commission Court, proposed to
the Prince of Orange to resign his bishopric in favour
of Dr. Burnet; on condition of an aUowance of 1000/.
per ann, out of it's revenues ; but Burnet refused to
accept it upon those terms.
His services, however, did not long remain unre*
warded ; for WUUam had not been many days on the
throne,* before he was advanced to the see of SaUs
bury in the room of Dr. Seth Ward. In the House
of Lords, he distinguished himseLf by declaring for
moderate measures with regard to those of the clergy,
who scrupled to take the oaths to WUliam and Maiyi
and by exerting his abiUties in promoting a legal tole
ration of the Protestant Dissenters.
In 1689, a passage in his ' Pastoral Letter to the
Clergy of his Diocese, concerning the Oaths of Su
premacy and AUegiance to King WilUam and Queen
Mary,' which seemed to ground thefr title to the
crown on the right of conquest, gave such offence
to both Houses of ParUamerit, that they ordered it
. * He was consecrated March 31, 1689. From his biogra
pher we learn, that " little anxious after his own preferment,
he solicited this see in favour of his old friend Dr. Lloyd, then
Bishop of St. Asaph ; but William coldly assured him, ' he had
another person in view,' and the next day nominated Burnet
himself: " and he himself informs us, ' the King used terms more
obliging than usually fell from him, and the Queen expressed
her hopes that he would now put in practice those notions with
which he had taken the liberty often to entertain her! ' " Arch
bishop Sancroft (he adds) for some days seemed determined to
venture incurring a presmunire, rather than obey the mandate
for cohsecration : but at last he grantpd a commission to all the
Bishops of his province, or any three of them, in conjuiiction with
the Bishop of London, to exercise his metropolitical authority
during pleasure."
G 3

S4 GILBERT BURNET,
to be burned by the hands of the common hang.
man.* - Upon the close of the session, he went down to
his diocese, where he was scrupulously exact in the
discharge of his function ; particularly in the con
ferring of orders, and admitting to Uvings.
His attendance in parUament was constant every
winter ; and during the summer-seasons he resided,
chiefly, at Salisbury. He never failed, however, to
hold annual visitations at aU the principal towns in
his diocese, when he strictly investigated the con
duct of the clergy, and took great pains to have youth
instructed in Christian principles, looking upon con
firmation without previous catechising as an idle cere
mony. He even instituted at his own expense a
smaU seminary for students of divinity at SaUsbury ;
but this he discontinued on the suggestion, that ' it
might be deemed a virtual censure upon the mode of
reUgious education pursued at the Universities.'
To pluraUties of Uvings, except where two churches
lay near each other and were poorly endowed, he
was a warm and constant enemy. But whenever
non-residence was the consequence of a pluraUty, he
used his utmost endeavours to prevent it, and jn
some cases even chose to hazard a suspension, rather
than give institution. In his Charges, indeed, he ex
claimed against pluraUties, as a sacrilegious robbery
of the revenues of the church ; and his zeal upon
this sulyect is recorded, in one instance, to have pro
duced a signal effect. Upon his first visitation at
* One of a similar tendency, by Charles Blount, was justly
consigned, at the same time, to the same fate.

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 85
Salisbury, he urged the authority of St. Bernard,
who being consulted by one of his foUowers, ' Whe
ther he might not accept of two benefices ? ' repUed,
" And how wUl you be able to serve them both ? "
" I intend," answered the priest, " to officiate in
one of them by a deputy." '' WUl your deputy be
damned for you too ? " asked the saint. " BeUeve
me, you may serve your cure by proxy, but you
must be damned in person." This expression so af»
fected Mr. Kelsey, a pious clergyman then present,
that he immediately resigned the Rectory of Bemer-
ton, worth 200/. per ann., which he then held with
one of greater value. Nor was this act of self-denial
without it's reward ; for though thefr principles in
church-matters were totaUy opposite, Burnet conr
ceived such an esteem for him from this action, that
he not only persuaded the Chapter to elect him a
Canon, but Ukewise made him Archdeacon of Sarum,
and gave him one of the best prebends in the church,
In respect to residence, likewise, he was so strict,
that he would not permit even his own Chaplains to
attend upon him, after they had once obtained Uvings.
He considered himself indeed, as pastor of the whole
diocese, under the same obUgation ; and would never
be absent from it except during his attendance on the
parUament, from which, as soon as the principal
business of the nation was despatched, he instantly
returned to the duties of his episcopal office. An(|
though his Majesty, upon his going over to Ireland
or Flanders, always injoined him to attend the Queen,
and assist her with his counsel in aU emergencies ;
he would not on such occasions accept of lodgings at
Whitehall, but hired a house at Windsor, in order
to be within his own bishopric, and yet near enough

86 GILBERT BURNET,
tb the court to attend twice a-week, or oftener if
business required it.
With WiUiarii and Mary, though the former is
said to have been occasionaUy offended with his free
dom of speech, he continued in great favour during
their whole reign. He did not, however, make the
ordinary use of court-influence; for, though he- ob
tained many employments and gTatuities for others,
iri no instance, it is said, did he soUcit a favour for
himself or his famUy : on the contrary, he decUned
offers of high preferment.
In 1692, he pubUshed his ' Pastoral Care ; ' and in
I693, upon doctrinal points, ' Four Discourses to
the Clergy of his Diocese.' The year foUowing, in
a Funeral Sermon on Archbishop TUlotson, he vin
dicated the memory of that iUustrious Prelate from
the attack made upon it : and the death of Queen
Mary, in 1693, drew from him ' An Essay on her
Character,' in a high strain of eulogy.
In 1698, when ijt became necessary to settle the
Duke of Gloucester's famUy, WiUiam sent the Earl
of Sunderland with a message to the Princess
Anne, acquainting her, ' that he placed the whole
management of her son's household into her hands,
but that he owed the care of his education to him
self and his people, and therefore would name the
persons for that purpose.' Accordingly, the Earl of
Marlborough was nominated his Governor, and
:pishop Burnet his Preceptor. The latter, however,
who had then retired into his diocese (having lately
lost his second wUe by the smaU-pox*) although
* He soon supplied her place by a third, the widow Berkeley,
a lady of great respectability, and authoress of a « Method of
Devotion.' 6

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 87
he was assured that ' the Princess had testified her
approbation of the royal choice,' entreated the Earl
of Sunderland and Archbishop Tennison to use their
interest with the King deprecating the appointment.
But his Majesty being extremely soUcitous that he
should accept the post, and his friends earnestly press-
ing-him not to refuse a station in which he might ren
der his country such signal service, he waited upon
WiUiam at Windsor, to signify that ' he was wiUing
to take upon him the trust in question ; but as the
discharge of it must detain him constantly at court,
he desfred leave to resign his bishopric' The King
was much surprised at this proposal, and would by
no means consent to it. Finding however that
Burnet persisted in it, he consented that ? the Duke
of Gloucester should reside aU the summer at Wind
sor, and that the Bishop should have ten weeks al
lowed him every year to visit the other parts of his
diocese.' In this high office, he took great pains with his
pupU's education ; though the good effects of his care
were unhappUy intercepted by the untimely death of
his royal pupU, " I took to my own province (says
he, in his ' History of his Own Times') the reading
and explaining the Scriptures to him, and instructing
him in the principles of religion and the rules of
vfrtue, and the giving him a view of history, geo
graphy, poUtics, and government. I resolved, also, to
look very exactly to aU the masters, that were ap
pointed to teach him other things." In another place,
speaking of the Duke's death, he observes, " I had
been trusted with his education now for two years,
and he had made an amazing progress. I had read
over the Psalms, Proverbs, and Gospels. with him.

88 GILBERT BURNET,
and had explained things that feU in my way very
copiously."  " I went through geography so often
with him, that he went through all the maps very
particularly. I explained to him the forms of go
vernment in every country, with the interests and
trade of that country, and what was both good and
bad in it. I acquainted him with aU the great revo
lutions that had been in the world, and gave him a
copious account of the Greek and Roman Histories,
and of Plutarch's Lives. The last thing I explained^
to him was, the Gothic constitution, and the benefi-,
ciary and feudal laws, I talked of these things, at
different, times, neariy three hours a day."
In 1699, he pubUshed his ' Exposition of the
Thirty Nine Articles of the Church of England,'
which is considered as one of the most learned.
and judicious performances on the subject. It was
censured, indeed, by the Lower House of Convo
cation in 1701 ; 1. as aUowing a diversity of opi
nions, which the Articles were framed to prevent ;
2. as including many passages contrary to the true
meaning of the Articles, and to other received doc
trines of our church ; and 3. as maintaining some
things of pernicious consequence to the church, and
derogatory from the honour of the Reformation;
but that House refusing to enter into particulars,
unless they might at the same time offer some other
matters to the Upper House which the Bishops
would not admit, the affafr was dropped. And it
was attacked by various writers : Dr. Binckes, who
was answered in a Treatise ascribed to Dr. John
Hoadly, Primate of Ireland ; Dr. Jonathan EdwardS;,
Mr. Burscqugh, and Mr. Edmund Elys. The schemq
for the augmentation^ of poor Uvings out of theFirs^

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 89
Fruits and Tenths due to the crown was projected
by him, and passed into a law in 1704. In 1706,
he pubUshed a coUection of ' Sermons and Pamphlets '
in 3 vols. 4to. ; in 1710, an ' Exposition of the
Church Catechism;' and, in 1713, ' Sermons on se
veral Occasions,' with an ' Essay toward a New
Book of HomUies.'
At the trial of Dr. SachevereU, in 1709, he made
a long speech in the House of Peers against that
divine, proving that ' the doctrine of non-resistance
was not the doctrine of the Church of England.'
And though he was less in favour at court in the
reign of Queen Anne, than he had been in that of
her predecessor, she treated him with sufficient re
spect, to encourage him to speak openly to her con
cerning the state of her affafrs. In l7l0, he told
her, as he himself informs us, ' What reports were
spread of her throughout the nation, as if she fa
voured the design of bringing the Pretender to suc
ceed to the crown, upon a bargain that she should
hold it during her Ufe. He was sure, that these re
ports were spread about by persons in the confidence
of those, who were beUeved to know her mind : and
that if she were capable of making such a bargain
for herself, by which her people were to be deUvered
up and sacrificed after her death, as it would darken
aU the glory of her reign, so it must set aU her peo
ple to consider of the most proper ways of securing
themselves by bringing over the Protestant successors;
in which he himself would concur, if she did not
take effectual means to extinguish those jealousies : '
subjoining many other very free remarks, aU which
she heard very patiently, though she made him but

90 GILBERT BURNET,
Uttle answer. " Yet," adds he, " by what she said,
she seemed desfrous to make me think, she agreed
to What I laid before her ; but I found afterward, it
had no effect npon her. Yet I had great quiet in
my own mind, since I had with an honest freedom
made the best use I could of the access I had to
her." When he had attained his seventy second year, he
was taken UI of a violent cold, which soon changed-
to a pleuritic fever. He was attended in it by his
friend and relation. Dr. Cheyne, whp treated him
with the utmost skiU; but as the distemper grew
to a height, which seemed to baffle aU remedies, he
sent for Sfr Hans Sloane and Dr. Mead, who quickly
found his case to be desperate. When he perceived his
end approaching, he employed his few remaining
hours in acts of devotion, and in giving ¦ advice to
his famUy ; of whom he took leave in such a manner,
as evinced the utmost tenderness accompanied with
the greatest constancy of mind. Yet whUe he was
so Uttle sensible of the terrors of death, as to meet
it wdth joy, he coidd not but express his concern for
the grief which he saw it caused in others. He died
March 17, 1715, and was interred in the parish-
church of St. James, Clerkenwell,* where a hand
some marble monument was erected to his memory ;
from the Latin inscription upon which we learn that,
as Preacher in the RoUs Chapel,
* On taking down the old church in September 1788, his re
mains were unavoidably disturbed. Upon this occasion his body
was found inclosed in a leaden coffin, tlie outside wooden one
being decayed. The lead was broken at the head, through
which the skull and some hair was visible.

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 91
donee nimis acriter
fut iis, qui rerum turn potiebantur, visum est J .
EcclesicB Romanes
malas artes insectatur,
ab officio submotus est^
* * * *
Tyrannidi et Superstifioni
semper infensum scripta eruditissima demonstranti
necnon Libertatis patriee
veresque Religionis strenuum
semper que indefessum prdpugnatorem ;
quarum utriusque conservandce spem unam
jam h longo tempore in illustrissima domo Brunsvicensi
collocarat.
After his death, his ' History of his own Times
with his Life annexed,' agreeably to his testamentary
dfrection, was pubUshed by his son, Thomas Burnet,
Esq. ; the first volume in 1724,* and the second ten
* Of this there are two French versions ; one by M. de la Pillo-
niere, printed at the Hague in three volumes, 12mo. 1725 ; the
other by an anonymous translator at the same place in the same
year, in two volumes 4to. ' Swift, in his • Short Remarks ' on this
work (ed. 1 808, v. 98) says, " This author is, in most particulars, the
worst qualified for an Historian that ever I met with. His stile is
rough, full of improprieties, his expressions often Scotch, and
often such as are used by the meanest people. His characters are
miserably wrought, in many things mistaken, and all of them de
tracting ; except of thoscy who were friends to the Presbyterians."
Many of those characters were struck through with his own hand,
but left legible in the MS., which he ordered in his last will " his
executor to print faithfully as he left it, without adding, sup
pressing, or altering it in any particular." In the second vo
lume the E.ditor promises, that " the original MS. of both vo
lumes shall be deposited in the Cotton library. But this promise
does not appear to have been fulfilled ; at least it certainly was
not in 1736, when two letters were printed addressed to Thomas
Bui'net, Esq., in the second of which the writer asserted, that
he had jn his own possession " an authentic and complete col-

93 GILBERT BURNET,
years afterward. His other works, beside those afready
mentioned, are, ' A Relation of the Deaths of the Pri-
lection of castrated passages." Of these a copy may be found
in the European Magazine for 1795 and 1796 (xxvii. 37, 157,
221, 374; xxviii. 88, 245, 312, 392; and xxix. 87.) with MS.
Observations on the History by Lords Aylesbury and Hard-
wicke. Dean Swift, Speaker Onslow, Mr. Goodwin of Baliol
College, &c. The Speaker's notes, however, utter a diiferent
language from those of Swift, and their writer (as the late Lord
Clarendon has been heard to mention) used to state, - he had
found many things in the Bishop's Narrative to be true, which
had been objected to as falsities ; and that he did not doubt,
many more would^in process of time be confirmed.' The same
opinion appears, from Nichols' « Literary Anecdotes of the
Eighteenth Century,' (I. 562. note) to have been entertained
also by Dr. Newcome, Master of St. John's College, Cambridge,
who was accustomed to declare of this work (in opposition to
the judgement of Nichols himself, by whom it is ranked with
' the Histories of Oldmixon, Kennett, and Macaulay ' ) that
" however spoken against at it's first appearance, it would gain
credit by time, and in the end would be justly valued for it's
authority." The Editor himself likewise, if this note were not
already too long, could adduce a strong illustration of the Right
Rev. Author's accuracy (II. 423.) from the valuable Collection of .
Lord Godolphin's Papers in the possession of his illustrious de-
scendent the Duke of Leeds. In a copy of this History, also, .
with MS. Notes by Lord D. Secretary of .State at the time de
scribed, occurs the following memorandum, at the end of Vol. I.
" So far I read, and did not perceive any design in the writer to
pervert or mislead: but this (he adds) was not the case inthe
succeeding volume ; " which, however, is chiefly a compilation
from the newspapers. By the nonjurors it was creditably deno
minated. Opprobrium Histories,
On the « Memoirs of P. P. Clerk of this Parish,' by the
Scriblerus Club, Dr. Warton observes : " It was impossible but
that such a History as Burnet's, which these Memoirs are in
tended to ridicule, relating recent events so near the time of
their transaction, should be variously represented by the violent
parties that have agitated and disgraced this country ; though
thpse parties arise from the very nature of our free government,
5

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 93
mitive Persecutors, translated from the Latin of Lac-
tantius : with a large Preface, in which the Princi
ples, the Spirit, and the Practice of Persecution are
freely censured and condemned ; ' his ' History of
the Rights of Princes, in disposing of Ecclesiastical
Benefices and Church-Lands ; ' his ' Translation and
Examination of a Letter, written by the last General
Assembly of the Clergy of France to the Protestants,
inviting them to return to thefr Communion, &c. ;'
and his ' Translation of Sfr Thomas More's Utopia,*
preceded by a Preface concerning the Nature of
Translations, &c. &c.
Distinguished generally, as a writer, by his vigour
and the depth and variety of his knowledge, as a
Accordingly, this Prelate's • History of his own Times' was as
much vilified and depreciated by the Tories, as praised and
magnified by the Whigs. Relating the actions of a Persecutor
and a Benefactor, he was accused of partiality, injustice, ma
lignity, flattery, and falsehood. Bevil Higgins, Lord Lans-
downe, and others wrote Remarks on him ; and Lord Peter
borough's animadversions (as his amanuensis, Mr. Holloway,
assured Dr. W.) were very severe : but they were never pub
lished. As Burnet was much trusted and consulted by King
William, and had a great share in bringing about the Revolu
tion, his narratives, it must be owned, have a strong tincture of
self-importance and egotism. These two qualities are chiefly
exposed in these Memoirs. Hume and Dalrymple have taken
occasion to censure him. After all, he was a man of great abi
lities, of much openness and frankness of nature, of much cour
tesy and benevolence, indefatigable in his studies and in per
forming constantly the duties of his station. — Few persons, or
Prelates, would have had the boldness and honesty to write such
a remonstrance to Charles II. on his dissolute life and manners,
as did Burnet in the year 1680. We may easily guess what the
sycophants of that profligate court, and their profligate master^
said and thought of the piety and freedom of this letter."

94 GILBERT BURNET,
theologian more especiaUy he stands high in the
estimation of his church. Of his historical powers
a modern writer says :
' Yet Burnet's page may lasting glory hope,
Howe'er insulted by the spleen of Pope.
Though his rough language haste and warmth denote, '.
With ardent honesty of soul he wrote:
Though critic censures on his works may shower.
Like faith, his freedom has a saving power.'" *
This testimony from a poet, observes Aikin, is the
more honourable, as Burnet was by no means partial
to poets, and has exposed himself to just obloquy
for what he has said of Dryden and Prior .f He ap
pears, indeed, to have been Uttle conversant with the
amenities of "Uterature. He had the virtues and the
defect of an ardent, active, and honest character.
No man seems to have been more honestly zealous in
promoting what he thought conducive to the pubUc
good ; and he possessed a great fund of benevolence,
UberaUty, and disinterestedness. His faUings were
* Hayley's ' Essay on History.'
+ The first he pronounces " a monster of immodesty, and of
impurity of all sorts" (1.269.); and the latter he calls "one
Prior " (II. 280.), which a friend to the poet's memory thus
avenged : ' « One Prior!" and is this, this all the fame.
The poet from th' historian can claim ?
No : Prior's verse posterity shall quote.
When 'tis forgot ' one Burnet ' ever wrote.'
His censure also of Milton, whom, though he admits he wrote
in Latin with great purity and elegancy' of stile against Salma-
sius and others, he seems astonished and almost indignant to
find pardoned for his affectation of blank verse and his new and
rough words, is not very friendly.

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 95
vanity, creduUty, officiousness, and a kind of gossip
ing garruUty. He appears, however, to have been
a real lover of truth ; though his foibles occasionaUy
exposed him to the charge of misrepresentation. He
Uved in times, when it was impossible that a conspi
cuous pubUc character should escape party-abuse;
but his name has lost none of it's honours in it's
descent to posterity. His controversial works, in
deed, are nearly forgotten ; but his two noble Histo
ries, and his Lives of Rochester, BedeU, Hale, &;c.
wUl sustain and prolong his fame.
With regard to his domestic habits, private medi
tation (we are told) took up the two first hours, and
the last half hour, of his day. The Morning and
Evening Prayers he always read himseli to his fa
mUy, though his Chaplains were present. At the
tea-table, he instructed his chUdren in reUgion, and
gave them his, own comment upon some portion of
Scripture. He seldom spent less than six, and often
eight, hours a day in his study. At his table, which
was accessible to every one, appeared plenty without
luxury : his equipage was decent and plain ; and all
his expenses were, though generous, short of profu
sion. He was a most affectionate husband to his
wives ; and to his chUdren he showed his love most
judiciously, not by hoarding up wealth for them, but
by gpiving them an exceUent education. In his friend
ships, he was warm, open-hearted, and constant ; and
though his station and his principles raised him many
enemies, he invariably endeavoured to overcome them
by returning good for evU. Kind and bountiftil to
his servants, he was to aU that stood in need mOst
charitable. He gave a hundred pounds at a time
for the augmentation of small Uvings, bestowed jpen-

96 GILBERT BURNET,
sions on poor clergymen and thefr widowsj and on
students for thefr education at the Universities ; and
contributed frequent sums toward the repair or the
rebuUding of churches and parsonage-houses, to aU
pubUc coUections, to the support of charity-schools,
and to the putting out of apprentices. Nor were
his alms confined to one nation, sect, or party : Want,
and merit in the object, were the only measures of
his UberaUty. With regard to his episcopal revenue,
he looked upon himself as a mere trustee for the
church, bound to expend the whole in a decent
maintenance of his station, and in acts of hospita-
Uty and charity : and so faithfuUy had he balanced
this account, that at his death no more of the in
come of his bishopric remained to his famUy, than
was barely sufficiient to discharge his debts.
The character of this -eminent Prelate, written by
his contettiporary, the Marquis of HaUfax, has been
much admfred : " Dr. Burnet is, like aU men who
are above the ordinary level, seldom spoken of in a
mean ; he must either be raUed at, or admfred. He
has a swiftness of imagination, that no other man
comes up to; and, as our nature hardly aUows us to
have enough of any thing without having too much,
he cannot at aU times so hold-in his thoughts, but
that at some time they may run away with him ; as
it is hard for a vessel, that is brim-fuU, when in
motion, not to run over : and, therrfore, the variety
of matter that he ever carries about him may throw
out more than an unkind critic would aUow of. His
first thoughts may sometimes requfre more digestion,
not from a defect in his judgement, but from the
abundance of his fancy, which furnishes too fast for
him. His friends love hun too weU to see sraaU

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. »7
faults ; or, if they do, think that his greater talents
give him a privUege of straying from the strict rules
of caution, and exempt him from the ordinary rules
of censure. He produces so fast, that what is weU
in his writings caUs for admiration, and what is in
correct deserves an excuse : he may, in some things,
requfre grains of aUowance, which those only can
deny him who are unknown or unjust to him. ' He
is not quicker in discerning other men's faults, than
he is in forgiving them ; so ready, or rather glad, to
acknowledge his own, that from blemishes they be
come ornaments. AU the repeated provocations of
his indecent adversaries have had no other effect than
the setting his good-nature in so much a better Ught,
since his anger never yet went farther than to pity
them. That heat, which in most other men raises
sharpness and satfre, in him glows into warmth for
his friends, and compassion for those in want and
misery. As duU men have quick eyes in discerning
the smaller faults of those that nature has made su
perior to them, they do not miss one blot he makes :
and, being beholden only to thefr barrenness for their
discretion, they faU upon the errors Which arise out
of his abundance; and by a mistake into which
thefr maUce betrays them, they think that, by find
ing a mote in his eye, they hide the beams that are
in thefr own. His quickness makes writing so easy
to him, that his spfrits are neither wasted nor soured
by it : the soU is not forced : every thing grows and
brings forth without pangs ; which distinguishes as
much what he does from that which smeUs of the
lamp, as a good palate wUl discern between finiit
which comes from a rich mould, and that which
tastes of the uncleanly pains that have been bestowed
VOL. v. H

98 GILBERT BURNET,
upon it. He makes many enemies by setting an Ul-
natured example of Uving, which they are not in
cUned to foUow. His indifference for preferment, his
contempt not only of splendor but of aU unneces
sary plenty, his degrading himself into the lowest
and most painful duties of his calUng are such un-
prelatical quaUties, that let him be never so ortho
dox in other things, in these he must be a dissenter.
Virtues of such a stamp are so many heresies in the
opinion of those divines, who have softened the pri
mitive injunctions so as to make them suit better
with the present fraUty of mankind. No wonder
then if they are angry, since it is in thefr own de
fence; or that from a principle of self-preservation
they should endeavour to suppress a man, whose
parts are a shame, and whose life is a scandal to
them." That absence of mind, which the French caH
Etourderie, formed a striking feature of his charac
ter. About the year 1680, several ladies of quaUty
were imprisoned at Paris on suspicion of poisoning;
among others, the Countess of Soissons, niece of
Cardinal Ma^arin, and mother of Prince Eugene of
Savoy. In the latter end of Queen Anne's reign,
when that distinguished warrior visited England,
Burnet with his accustomed curiosity entreated the
Duke of Marlborough to introduce him to his iUus
trious coUegue. With this request his Grace com
pUed ; only begging, that ' he would be upon his
guard against saying any thing which might create
offence.' Mindful of this caution, the Bishop re
solved to sit sUent during the whole entertainment :
but the Prince unfortunately, upon learning his name,
among other questions of civiUty asked him, ' When

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 99
he was last at Paris ? ' Fluttered by this unexpected
attention, he hastUy replied, ' He could not recoUect
the year, but it was when the Countess of Soissons
was imprisoned.' His eyes at this moment meeting
those of his noble host, he instantly recognised his
blunder; and deprived of aU his remaining discre
tion, doubled his error by asking pardon of his High
ness, stared wUdly around him, and seeing the whole
company in a state of embarrassment rushed out of
the room in the utmost confusion.
This story is given by Noble, in his continuation
of Granger. On the same authority we learn, that
*' he was extravagantly fond of tobacco and writing:
to enjoy both at the same time, he perforated the
broad brim of his large hat ; and putting his long
pipe through it, puffed and wrote, and wrote and
puffed again."
By his first wife. Bishop Burnet had no issue;
but his second bore him three sons and four daugh
ters. He had two children also by his last, both of
whom however died in their infancy. WUUam, the
eldest, originaUy bred to the law, became Governor,
first of New York and the Jerseys, and subsequently
of Massachussets and New Hampshire. He died at
Boston in 1729- GUbert was made King's Chaplain,
and distinguished himself as a writer in favour of
Hoadly, in the celebrated Bangorian controversy,
by his answers to Law and Trapp. In 1719, also,
he pubUshed an Abridgement of the thfrd volume
of his father's ' History of the Reformation.' His
youngest, Thomas, brought up to the law, by his
dissipated youth gave his father great uneasiness.
He, however, alUed letters with pleasure ; and wrote
numerous pamphlets in behalf of the Whig party.
H 2

100 GILBERT BURNET,
At length he reformed his conduct, and after being
for some time Consul at Lisbon, became one of the
Judges ofthe Court of Common Pleas, in the reign
of George II. He was knighted, and died in 1753.
A clause in his wUl gave rise to much conversation
after his decease, and to a very serious and sensible
pamphlet, entitled ' The True Church of Christ,
which and where to be found, &c.' A coUection
also of verses, written by him in his early life, was
pubUshed in 4to. in 1777-

EXTRACTS.
From the Life of Bishop Bedell.
— ' This leads me to another part of his character,
that must represent the care he took of the natives ;
he observed, with much regret, that the EngUsh had
aU along neglected the Irish as a nation, not only
conquered but undiscipUnable ; and that the clergy
had scarcely considered them as a part of thefr charge,
but had left them whoUy in the hands of thefr own
priests, without taking any other care of them but
the making them pay thefr tithes. And, indeed,'
their priests were a strange sort of people, that knew
generaUy nothing but the reading thefr offices, which
were not so much as understood by many of them;
and they taught the people nothing but the saying
thefr Paters and Aves in Latin. So that the state
both of the clergy and laity was such, that it could
not but raise great compassion in a man, that had so
tender a sense of the value of those souls that Christ
had purchased with his blood : therefore he resolved
to set about that apostcdical work, of converting the

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 101
natives, with the zeal and care that so great under
standing requfred. He knew the gaining on some of
the more knowing of their priests was Uke to be the
quickest way : for by thefr means he hoped to spread
the knowledge of the Reformed ReUgion among the
natives ; or rather of the Christian ReUgion, to speak
more strictly. For they had no sort of notion of
Christianity, but only knew that they were to de
pend upon thefr priests, and were to confess such of
their actions as they call ' sins' to them, and were to
pay them tithes. The Bishop prevaUed on" several
priests to change, and he was so weU satisfied with
the truth of thefr conversion, that he provided some
of them to ecclesiastical benefices; which was thought
a strange thing, and was censured by many as con
trary to the interest of the EngUsh nation. For it
was beUeved, that aU those Irish converts were stUl
Papists at heart, and might be so much the more
dangerous than otherwise by that disguise which
they had put on. But he, on the other hand, consi
dered chiefly the duty of a Christian Bishop : he, also,
thought the true interest of England was to gain the
Irish to the knowledge of reUgion, and to bring them,
by the means of that which only turns the heart, to
love the EngUsh nation ; and so he judged the wis
dom of that course was apparent, as well as the piety
of it. Since such as changed thefr reUgion would
become thereby so odious to their own clergy, that
this would provoke them to farther degrees of zeal
in gaining others to come over after them : and he
took great care to work in those>. whom he trusted
with the care of souls, a fuU conviction of the trutk
of reUgion, and a deep sense of the importance of it.
And in this he was so happy, that of aU the codn

102 GILBERT BURNET,
verts that he had raised to benefices, there was but
one only that feU back when the RebelUon broke
out ; and he not only apostatised, but both plundered
and kiUed the EngUsh among the first. But no
wonder if one murtherer was among our Bishop's
converts, since there was a traitor among the twelve
that followed our Saviour. There was a convent of
friars very near him, on whom he took much pains
with very good success. That he might furnish his
converts with the means of instructing others, he
made a short Catechism to be printed in one sheet,
being EngUsh on the one page and Irish on the
other ; which contained the elements and most ne
cessary things of the Christian ReUgion, together
vrith some forms of prayer and some of the most in^
structing and edifying passages of Scripture. This
he sent about aU over his diocese ; and it was re
ceived with great joy by many of the Irish, who
seemed to be " hungering and thfrsting after righte
ousness," and received this beginning of. knowledge
so well that it gave a good encouragement to hope
weU upon farther endeavours.
' The Bishop did, also, set himself to learn the Irish
tongue ; and though it was too late for a man of his
years to learn to speak it, yet he came to understand
it to such a degree as to compose a complete Gram
mar of it (which was the first that ever was made, as
I have been told) and to be a critic in it: he, also, had
Common Prayer read in Irish every Sunday in his
cathedral for the benefit of the converts he had made,!
and was always present at it himself, and he engaged
aU his clergy to set up schools in thefr parishes ; for
there were so very few bred to read or write, that
this obstructed the Conversion of the nation very

BISHOP OF SALISBURY. 103
much. The New Testament and the Book of Com
mon Prayer were already put in the Irish tongue :
but he resolved to have the whole Bible, the Old
Testament as weU as the New, put also into the
hands of the Irish ; and, therefore, he laboured much
to find out one, that understood the language so weU
that he might be employed in so sacred a work : and
by the advice of the Primate and several other emi
nent persons he pitched on one King, that had been
converted ma^y years before, and was beUeved to be
the elegantest writer of the Irish tongue then aUve,
both for prose and poetry. He was then about
seventy ; but notwithstanding his age, and the disad
vantages of his education, yet the Bishop thought
him npt only capable of this employment, but quaU-
fied for an higher character: therefore he put him in
orders, and gave him a benefice in his diocese, and set
him to work in order to the translating ofthe Bible;
which he was to do from the EngUsh translation,,
since there were none ofthe nation to be found, that
knew any thing of * the originals. The Bishop set
himself so much to the revising of this work, that al
ways after dinner or supper he read over a chapter:
and as he compared, the Irish translation with the
EngUsh, so he compared the EngUsh with the Hebrew
and the Seventy Interpreters, or with Diodati's Italian
translation which he valued highly ; and he corrected
the Irish, where he found the EngUsh translators had
failed. He thought the use of the Scriptures was
the only way to let the knowledge of reUgion in
among the Irish, as it had first let the Reformation
into the other parts of Europe ; and he. used to tell a
passage of a sermon that he heard Fulgentio preach
at Venice, with which he was much pleased : it was

104. GILBERT BURNET,
on these words of Christ, Ha^^e ye not read? and
so he took occasion to teU the auditory, that if Christ
were now to ask this question. Ham ye not readf
AU the answer they could make to it was, 'No;'
for they were not suffered to do it. Upori which, he
taxed with great zeal the restraint put on the use of
the Scriptures by the See of Rome. This was not
unlike what the same person deUvered, in another
sermon, preaching upon PUate's question. What is
Truth ? He told them that ' at last after many
searches he had found it out, and held out a New
Testament, and said there it was in his hand : ' but
then he put it in his pocket and said coldly, ' But the
book is prohibited;' which was so suited to the ItaUan
genius, that it took mightUy with the auditory. The
Bishop had observed, that in the primitive times as
soon as nations, how barbarous soever they were,
began to receive the Christian ReUgion, they had the
Scriptures translated into their vulgar tongues ; and
that aU people were exhorted to study them : there
fore he not only undertook and began this work, but
foUowed it with so much industry, that in a very
few years he finished the translation, and resolved to
set about the printing of it ; for the bargain was
made with one, that engaged to perform it. And as
he had been at the great trouble of examining the
translation, so he resolved to run the venture of the
impression, and took that expense upon himself It is
scarcely to be imagmed, what could have obstructed
so great and so good a work. The priests of the
Church of Rome had reason to oppose the printing
etf a book, that has been always so fatal to them ;
but it was a deep fetch to possess Reformed divines
with a jealousy of this work, and with hard thoughts

BISHOP OP SALISBURY. los
concerning it. Yet that was done ; but by a very weU
disguised method: for it was said, that ' the translator
was a weak and contemptible man, and that it would
expose such a work as this was to the scorn of the
nation, when it was known who was the author of it:'
and this was infused both into the Earl of Strafford^
and into the Archbishop of Canterbury.'

A Letter from Dr. G. Burnet to the Marchioness qf Wharton, in
it's conclusion contains tuhat he calls ' Conceits swimming in
his Thoughts when he xurote last ;' but " I had not the leisure,"
he adds, " to fnalee them chime right"
' Perhaps the Sisters, moved with high disdain
To see themselves outdone by such a strain.
Refuse to give the finishings of skill
To one, whom Nature furnishes so well.
Wit, Fancy, Judgement, Memory agree
To raise in you a perfect harmony :
Wit gives the treble notes, so brisk, so high ;
A copious Fancy makes them gently fly.
And gives a killing sweetness to your song ;
The base is Judgertient deep, and clear, and strong-
All fitly set, who can resist them long ?
The Muses, here, may well their labour spare ;
You are above their skill, beyond their care :
Or, if they haunt you, 'tis not to inspire.
But to take heat at your ethereal fire ;
From whence they carry sparks to some cold brain,
And dart a flame that imitates your strain.
But flat and languid is a forced heat ;
'Tis hardly kindled, and doth feebly beat.
Thus do the Muses, that about you fly,
^Learning new strains like those above the sky.
Come and reproach all, that about the town
The glorious name of Poets boldly own,
They, with an art like yours, your song do sing:
The Poets damp'd give o'er, their harps unstring ;

}

106 GILBERT BURNET.
Their ill-deserved titles they lay down,
, And join their laurels to adorn your crown.
Thus they, inspired with your well-guided rage
(Some spite of all defects, some spite of age)
No other themes they'll any more pursue :
On you they employ their art, out-done by you.'

107

JOHN FLAMSTEED.*

[1646—1719.]

X HIS celebrated Astronomer and Mathematician
was the son of Stephen Flamsteed, a substantial
yeoman of Denby, a viUage in Derbyshfre, where he
was bom in the year 1646. From his infancy he
had a natural tenderness of constitution, which he
was never able to surmount. He was educated at the
Free School of Derby; and at fourteen years of age
was afflicted With a severe fit of sickness, which being
foUowed by many other indispositions, prevented his
proceeding (as had been intended) to the University.
Within a short period of his leaving school in 1663,
he received the loan of John de SacroboscO's book
' De Sphcerd,' which he set himself to study without
any instructor. This accident laid the groundwork
of aU that knowledge, by which he subsequently be
came so distinguished. He had already perused many
volumes of history, ecclesiastical as weU as civil ; but
this subject was entirely new to him, and he was
greatly deUghted with it. After translating from his
author what he thought necessary into EngUsh, he
* Authorities. Biographia Britannica; New General
Biographical Dictionary; British Biography; and Keill's Pre
face to his Introduction to the True Philosophy.

108 JOHN FLAMSTEED.
t)roceeded to make dials by the dfrection of such
books as he could procure ; and having exchanged a
piece of astrology, found among his father's books,
for Mr. Street's ' CaroUne Tables,' he set himself to
compute the places of the planets. He spent some
part of his time, indeed, in astrological studies ; but
it was only with the view of rendering them subser
vient to usefrU astronomy.
Having calculated by these tables an ecUpse of the
sun, he communicated it to a relation, who showed
it to Emanuel Halton, Esq., of Wingfield MaSor, in
Derbyshire. This gentleman, who was a good ma
thematician (as appears from some of his pieces, pub
Ushed in the Appendix to Foster's Mathematical
Miscellanies) came to see Mr. Flamsteed soon after?
ward ; and finding him Uttle acquainted with the
astronomical performances of others, sent him Ric-
cioU's ' New Almagest' in Latin, and Kepler's ' Ru-
dolphine Tables,' with some other works of the same
description, to which he was previously a stranger.
From this time, he prosecuted his studies with equal
vigour and success.
In 1669, he calculated some remarkable ecUpses
of the fixed stars by the moon for the foUowing year,
and dfrected them to Lord Brounker, then President
ofthe Royal Society. This piece, being read before
the Society, procured him their letters of thanks, and
accounts of all the mathematical books which were
pubUshed either at home or abroad.
In June, 1670, his father, who had hitherto dis
countenanced his studies, observing his correspond
ence vdth men of genius, advised him to tak? a
journey to London, that he might be introduced to
thefr personal acquaintance. He, accordingly, visited

JOHN FLAMSTEED. 109
Mr. Oldenburgh and Mr. ColUns, by whom he was
introduced to Sfr Jonas Moore, the first EngUsh au
thor of a System of Mathematics. Sfr Jonas received
the rustic philosopher under his protection, presented
him vidth Townley's micrometer, and undertook to
procure him glasses for a telescope at a moderate
rate, Flamsteed soon afterward went to Cambridge,
where he visited Batrow, Roe, and Newton ; and at
the same time he entered himself a student of Jesus
CoUege, Sfr Jonas Moore contributing to his expenses
for that purpose.
In the spring of 1672, he extracted and translated
into Latin some observations from Mr. Gascoigne's and
Mr. Crabtree'S ' Letters on Mathematical Subjects,'
which had not previously been made pubUc. The
transcript of Gascoigne's papers he finished in May ;
and he spent the ensuing six months in making
observations, and in preparing advertisements of the
approaches ofthe moon and planets to the fixed stars
for the foUowing year. These, with some of his ob
servations on the planets, were pubUshed by Mr.
Oldenburgh in the PhUosophical Transactions.
In 1673, he drew up a smaU EngUsh tract con
cerning the true and apparent diameters of aU the
planets, when at thefr nearest or remotest distances
from the earth ; and in 1674, an Ephemeris, to show
the falsity of astrology, and the ignorance of those
who pretended to it : adding an accurate table of
the moon's rising and setting, with her ecUpses and
approaches (as weU as those of the other planets) to
the fixed stars. This he communicated to Sfr Jonas
Moore, with a table of the moon's true southing that
year. lu 1674, passing through London in his way to

no JOHN FLAMSTEED.
Cambridge, he learned from that gentleman, that a
true account of the tides would be highly acceptable
to Charles II. ; upon which, he composed a small
Ephemeris for his Majesty's use. Sfr Jonas having
frequently heard him discourse of the barometer, and
the certainty of it's indications of the weather, re
quested him to supply him with a pafr, which he
subsequently exhibited to the King and the Duke
of York, with Flamsteed's directions for interpreting
their rise or fall.
Upon taking the degree of M. A. at Cambridge,
Mr. Flamsteed resolved to enter into holy orders, and
to settle upon a smaU Uving near Derby, which was
in the gift of one of his father's friends. His patron
had; indeed, other views for him ; but, finding him
fixed in his resolution, he did not attempt to dissuade
him from it. Even the warrant ofthe astronomer*
ship royal with a salary of 100/. per ann., which he
procured for him in 1675, did not induce him to
relinquish his design. The Easter foUowing he was
ordained at Ely House by Bishop Gunning, who ever
afterward conversed freely with him upon the new
philosophy and opinions, though his Lordship conti
nued strenuously to maintain the old.
In the same year, was laid the foundation of the
Royal Observatory at Greenwich, which from it's
first occupier is stUl caUed Flamsteed House. During
the buUding of this edifice he lodged at Greenwich,
where he observed the appulses of the moon and
planets to the fixed stars. In 1681, his ' Doctrine
of the Sphere' was published in Sfr Jonas Moore'-s
' System of the Mathematics.'
About the year 1684, he was presented to the
Uving of Barstow near Blechingly, in Surrey. Of

JOHN FLAMSTEED. m
the manner in which he obtained this preferment,
the foUowing account is given by Mr. Roger North :
" Sfr Jonas Moore once invited the Lord Keeper
North to dine with him at the Tower ; and, after
dinner, presented Mr. Flamsteed. His Lordship re
ceived him with much famiUarity, and encouraged
him to come and see him often, that he might have
the pleasure of his conversation. The star-gazer was
not wanting to himself in that: and his Lordship
was extremely deUghted with his accounts and obser
vations about the planets, especiaUy those attendant
on Jupiter ; showing how the eclipses of them, being
regular and calculable, might rectify the longitude of
places upon the globe, and demonstrating that Ught
did not pass instantaneously but in time, with other
remarkables in the heavens. These discourses always
regaled his Lordship; and a good benefice faUing
void, not far from the Observatory, in the gift of the
Great Seal, his Lordship gave it to Mr. Flamsteed ;
which set him at ease in his fortunes, and encouraged
his future labours from which great things were ex
pected; as applying the Jovial Observations to marine
uses, for finding longitudes at sea, and to correct the
globes, celestial and terrestrial, which were very faulty.
And in order to the first, he had composed tables of
the ecUpses of the satelUtes, which showed when they
were to happen, one after another; and of these,
finely painted upon neat board, he made a present to
his Lordship. And he had advanced his other design
of rectifying maps, by having provided large blank
globes, on which he might inscribe his places cor
rected. But plenty and pains seldom dweU together;
for as one enters, the other gives way : and, in this
instance, a good Uving, pensions, &c. spoUed a good

112 JOHN FLAMSTEED.
cosmographer and astronomer : so very Uttle is left
of Mr. Flamsteed's sedulous and judicious appUcgtr
tions that way."
Here, in justice to Mr. Flamsteed, it should be
observed, that there appears no just ground for this
caustic reflexion. His astronomical iniquiries might
not invariably produce aU the consequences, which
were expected ; but nothing of this kind seems to have
arisen from want of appUcation in the observer. The
PhUosophical Transactions, indeed, afford ample evi
dence of his activity and diUgencej as weU as of his
penetration and exactness, in astronomical studies
after he had obtained the above preferments, the only
ones ever conferred upon him.
In December 1719, he was seized with a stran*
piry, which carried him off on the last day of that
month. He left a widow behind him, but no chil
dren. He had spent a great part of his Ufe in the
pursuit of knowledge, and his uncommon merit as
an astronomer was acknowledged by the ablest of his
contemporaries : particularly at home by Dr. WalUg,
Dr. Halley, and Sir Isaac Newton; and, among
foreigners, by the celebrated Cassini*.
His ' Historia Ccelesiis Britannica ' was pubUshed
in 1725, in three volumes foUo by his widow, and
dedicated to the King. Great part of this work had
been printed off before his death, and the rest, with
the exception of the Prolegomena prefixed to th?
thfrd volume, was left ready for the press.
Mr. Flamsteed, as Dr. KeUl observes, « with in?
defatigable pains for more than forty years watched
the motions of the stars, and has given us frmumer-
able observations ofthe sun, moon, and planets,
which he made with very large instruments exactly

JOHN FLAMSTEED. ns
divided by most exquisite art, and fitted with tele-
scopical sights. Whence we are to rely more upon
the observations he has made, than on those that
went before hun, who had made thefr observations
with the naked eye without the assistance of tele
scopes. The said Mr. Flamsteed has likewise com
posed the British Catalogue of the Fixed Stars, con
taining about three thousand (twice the number con
tained in the catalogue of HeveUus) ; to each of which
he has annexed it's longitude, latitude, right ascen
sion, and distance from the pole, together with the
'Variation of right ascension and decUnation whUe
I5he lon^tude increases a degree. This catalogue,
together with most of his observations, is printed on
a fine paper and character."

VOL. V.

114

JOSEPH ADDISON.*

[167^—1719.]

J OSEPH, son of Lancelot Addison Dean of Lich
field, was bom at Milston near Ambresbury, in the
county of WUtSj of which place his father was then
Rector, May 1, 1672 ; and received the first rudi
ments of his education under the care of the Rev. Mr.
Naish. He was, subsequently, removed to a school at
SaUsbury, and thence to the Charter House ; where,
under the tuition of the learned Dr. EUis, he con
tracted an intimacy with Mr. (afterward Sfr Richard)
Steele, which lasted to the end of his life.
At fifteen, being entered of Queen's CoUege, Ox
ford, in which his father had studied, he appUed
himself with such diUgence to classical learning,
that he speedUy acqufred an elegant Latin stUe : and
a paper of his verses in that tongue, upon the in
auguration of WUliam III. in 1689, accidentally
faUing into the hands of Dr. Lancaster, he was
immediately elected a demy of Magdalen CoUege,
where he took his degrees of B. A. and M. A.f
* Authorities. Tickell's Life, prefixed to Addison's
Works, quarto 1721 ; Johnson's and Cibber's Lives ofthe Poets;
General Biographical Dictionary, and Young's Conjectures on
Original Composition.
•{• His rooms are still pointed out to strangers, and a part of
the Magdalen-waJks still bears his name.
5

JOSEPH ADDISON, 11,5
His Latin, compositions, indeed,* in the course of a
few years justly gained him in both Universities
the character of a poet, before his name was even
known in London.
At twenty two appeared his first EngUsh pubUca-
tion, a copy of verses addressed to Dryden; which
immediately procured him, from the best judges in
that nice age, a high reputation. Not long after
ward, by a version of the fourth Georgic of VfrgU
(with the exception of the story of Aristseus) he won
the praise of his accompUshed contemporary. He
wrote, also, the discourse upon the Georgics, which
forms the Preface of Dryden's translation, and is
aUowed to be one of the most correct pieces of criti
cism in our own or in any other language.
Finding his reputation now estabUshed, he obUged
the world frequently with poems upon different sub
jects : among others, he addressed one in 1694 to Mr.
H. S., subsequently the famous Dr. SachevereU ; with
whom his friendship co|nmenced in coUege continued.

* It is not exactly known, at what age he composed some of his
Latin poems ; but they were, certainly, written very early. They
were published in the second volume of ' Musarum Anglicana-
rum Analecta,' and are as follows : 1 . ' Pax Gulielmi Au^piciis
Europee reddita, 1697 ; 2. ' Barometri Descriptio ;' 3. ' Prce-
lium inter Pygmceos et Grues commissum y ' 4. ' Resurrectio deli-
neata ad Altare Coll. Magd. Oxon' (being a Description of
the Painting over the Altar in Magdalen College, Oxford) ;
5. ' jSpkeeristerium ;' 6. ' Ad D. D. Hannes insignissimum Medi-
cum et Poetam, Ode ;' 7. ' Machines Gesticulantes ; ' and 8. ' Jd
insignissimum Virum D, T. Burnettum, Sacres Theories Telluris
Authorem, Ode;' see the Extracts. These poems have been
translated into English by Dr. Sewel, of Peterhouse, Cambridge ;
and by Newcomb and Amhurst, both of Oxford.
I2

116 JOSEPH ADDISON.
tUI it was dissolved by thefr disagreement in poUtical
principles.* .. The foUowing year, Addison discovered his risimg
views in a poem upon one of his Sovereign's camt
paigns, addressed to the Lord Keeper Sfr John
Somers : a mark of attachment, which that judicious
statesman remunerated by giving him thenceforward;
upon all occasions, proofs of his esteem.
He had been importuned, whUe at the University,
to enter into holy orders ; and, probably from respect
to his father, he was at one period disposed to com
ply : but his singular modesty incUning him to doubt
his own abiUties, he retracted the concession ; and
having shown an incUnation to travel, obtained from
the crown, through the patronage of Somers, an
annual pension of SOO/. at the latter end of 1699.
In 1701, he transmitted from Italy an epistokpy
poem to Montagu, Lord Halif8ix.f This was justly
admfred, as a finished piece of it's kind ; and has,
indeed, by some critics been pronounced the greatest
of his performances.
Halifax had recently been impeached by the Com
mons, for having procured exorbitant ^ants from
the crown to his own use ; and was farther charged
with cutting down and wasting the timber in his
Majesty's forests, and with holding several offices in
.the Exchequer, which had originaUy been designed
* Theii" first poetical productions were inserted in the ' &->
amen Poeticum' for 1693.
t See the Extracts. A Translation of this poem into Italian
verse by the Abbot Antonio Mario Salvini, Greek Professor at
Florence, is printed with the original, in Tickell's quarto edition
of Mr. Addison's works.

JOSEPH ADDISOK 117
as checks upon each other. The poet's address thfere-
fote, at such a moment, furnishes a noble proof of
his gratitude. I
He returned to England, in 1703. His stay abroad
was protracted by. the cfrcumstance of his being re
garded as a proper person to attend Prince Eugene,
then commanding for the Emperor in Italy ; an em
ployment, which he would have highly valued : but
the death of King WiUiam at once put an end to his
project, his pension, and his hopes of preferment.
Some time elapsed after his retum, his friends
being then out of the ministry, before any occasion
offered itself to him, either of exertion or of recom
pence. To accident he was indebted for both.
In 1704, the Lord Treasurer Godolphin complained
to HaUfax, that the victory of Blenheim had not
been celebrated in verse as it deserved; and re
quested his Lordship, as the known patron of poets,
to point out some gentleman capable of writing upon
SO elevated a subject. HaUfax repUed, that ' he was,
indeed, WeU acquainted with such a person, but
that having long seen with indignation men of no
merit maintained in pomp and luxury at the pubUc
expense, he did not choose to mention his name.'
The Treasurer answered, that ' he was sorry his
Xiordship had occasion to make such an observation,
and for the future would take care to render it's
justice more disputable ; but that, in the mean time,
he would pawn his honour that he, whom he should
i'eeommend, might venture upon the theme without
fear of losing his time.' Upon this, Halifax named
Mr, Addison, but insisted that the Treasurer himself
should send to him, which he promised. Accordingly
he prevaUed upon Mr. Boyle (afterward Lord Carlcr

118 JOSEPH ADDISON.
ton) ChanceUor of the Exechequeri, to communicate
to him the business; and the appUcation was made
in so obliging a manner, that he readUy undertook
the task. Godolphin saw the composition, when the
poet had proceeded no farther than the simUe of the
Angel ; * and was so weU pleased' with it, that he
immediately made him a Commissioner of Appeals.
This celebrated poem, addressed to the Duke of
Marlborough, is entitled ' The Campaign,' and con
tains a short view ofthe mUitary transactions in the
year 1704, vdth a minute description of the two
great actions at ScheUemberg and Blenheim, f
In 1705, Addison pubUshed his ' Travels,' dedicated
to Lord Somers. From want of taste, the perform^
ance was at first but indifferently treated ; but re
ceiving high commendations from the most eminent
Uterati both at home and abroad, it rose to five times
it's original price before a second edition coidd be
issued. In these Travels, his chief objects were to recom
mend the study of the classics, and to promote the
cause of Uberty ; objects, which he had previously
pursued in his Epistle to Lord HaUfax. Hencfe
TickeU has judiciously observed, that ' the prose*
work may be considered as a copious commentary
upon the verse.'
* And yet upon the subject of this simile, for which see
the Life of the Duke of Marlborough, it is recorded that Dr.
Madden said^ « If I had set ten schoolboys to write on thfe
battle of Blenheim, and eight had brought me , the Angel, 'I
should not have been surprised."
t Several other eminent writers employed their pens pn the
same subject; particularly Mr. J. Philips, and Mr. Eusden, sub
sequently Poet Laureat. Addison's, however, was far the most
^admired, ' •

JOSEPH ADDISON. 113
. The same year, he attended HaUfax to Hanover ;
and, in the year foUowing, was appointed as Under
Secretary of State to Sfr Charles Hedges ; in which
office he was continued by the succeeding Secretary,
the Earl of Sunderland.
Operas being at this time much in vogue, many
persons of taste and distinction importuned Mr, Addi
son to make a trial, whether sense and sound were
really so incompatible, as by some of the admfrers of
the ItaUan pieces they were represented. In compU
ance with thefr reiterated requests, he composed his
* Rosamond.' It did not, however, by it's success on
the stage justify the hopes, by which it had been
suggested.* About the same time, he assisted Steele in his
play cafred ' The Tender Husband,' to which he
* From • ^^.osamond,' says Sir John Hawkins, the town had
for a considerable time conceived a longing expectation, as well
from the character of Addison, as the supposed abilities of the
musical composer (Clayton). A criticism on this wretched per
formance is more than it deserves ; but, to account for the bad
Keception it met with, it is necessary to mention, that the music
preponderating against the elegance and humour of the poetry,
and the reputation of it's author, bore it down the third night
of representation. An ingenious and sensible writer pronounces
it ' a confused chaos of music,' and says it's only merit is
it's shortness. The sparrows in the opera of Rinaldo, and the
lion in Hydaspes, gave occasion to some of the most diverting
papers in ' The Spectator;' to papers, in which the humour is
so strong and poignant, that Mr. Pope on reading them laughed
till his sides shook. Mr. Addison perhaps, from the bad suc
cess of his Rosamond, was led to think that only nonsense was
fit to be set to music ; and this error is farther to be accounted
for by that want of taste (not to say, of skill) in music, which
he manifests in his preference of the French to the Italian com
posers, and in his general sentiments of music and musicians, in
which he is ever wrong !

120 JOSEPH ADDISON.
wrote a humorous prologue. Sfr RichSrdj whbse
gratitude was as warm as his wit, surprised hiifl
with a dedication, which may be considered as one
of the few monuments of the kind not unworthy of
it's subject.
In 1709, the Marquis of Wharton, being appointed
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, carried Addison with
him thither as his Secretary. Her Majesty alsi,
^s a mark of her pectdiar favour, augmented
tfre salary annexed to the place of Keeper of the
Records in that kingdom, and bestoWed it uport'
him. While he was in Ireland, the ' Tatler ' made itV
appearance. Addison detected the author by an ob^
servation on VfrgU, which had originaUy- been im
parted to Steele by himself This discovery led hmfe
to farther communications ; * so that, as Steele well
ieriiarked, he fared 'like a distressed pririce who.
caUs in a powerful neighbour to his aid, that is, he
was undone by his auxUiary.'
On the termination of the ' Tatler ' in concert with
his great aUy he formed the project ofthe ' Spectator,'!
* Lfpon the change in the ministry, Addison engaged more
extensively in this publication, until it's conclusion in 1711. HiSf
papers however not b^ing distinguished by any mark, Steele'
at the request of Tickell pointed them oUt, showing him like
wise such as they were jointly concevned in : and these, as Welt
ks his own, are printed in the second volume of Addisoh'S
¦Works. •j- In these volumes, the character of Sir Roger de Coveridy
tvas Addison's particular favourite. He was so tender indeed of
his fame, we are told, that he went to Steele on his fengagirig
the Knight in an intrigue, and would not part with him, until
he had promised to meddle with his character no more, f^ay, at
last, to prevent any absurdities into which the authors of sub
sequent Spectators might fall, he resolved to remove him wholly

JOSEPH ADDISON. 121
of which the fijst mimber appealed March 1, 1711,
In the course of this celebrated publication, Addison
furnished a considerable part of the best papers, dis
tinguished throughout by one of the letters in the
name of the muse Clio. The work closed Septem
ber 6, 1712.
In 1713 and 1714 the ' Guardian,* a paper written
in the same taste and spirit, entertained the town.
In this, too, Addison took a large share, and his papers
were particularly admfred : he, also, contributed once
or twice to the ' Lover,' another periodical paper. In
1713, his celebrated tragedy of ' Cato' appeared.
The design of writing a tragedy on that subject he
had conceived in early Ufe ; and he actuaUy composed
a considerable portion of it, whUe he Was on his tra
vels. This he retoitched updri his return to England,
without any fixed purpose of bringing it on the stage :
but, some friends of his apprehending that it might
be advantageous to the cause of Uberty, he prepared
it for the theatre by adding the greatest part of the
last act.
It's reception was most honoujfable. AU parties
applauded it ; it ran thirty five nights without inter
ruption ; and, what was more to the author's reputa
tion, the best judges declared in it's favour in the
closet, with the same enthusiasm with which it had
been haUed by the pit. The Prologue was written
by Pope,* and the EpUogue by Garth ; arid it was
out ofthe way; or, as he pleasantly expressed himself to an inti
mate friend, to " kill Sir Eioger, that nobody else might murther
him." * The Editor takes the liberty of subjoining his own version
of this composition in Latfn iambics, executed as a coHege-exer-

122 JOSEPH ADDISON.
recommended by many prefatory copies bf verses ;
cise for a friend : the original will easily be referred to, in the
Works of Pope.
PROLOGUS.
Ut sensus tragicd excitaret arte.
Mores fngeret, ingemque venam
Ditaret ; foret unde, quod videbat,
Humanum genus, atque rite scenas
Virtus conscia permearet omnes ;—
Primum sustinuit gravi cothurno
Suras Melpomene indui, et dere
Cunctorum lacrymas : Trueem tyrannus
Adspectum posuit, genasquefurtim
Non suo obstupuit maderefletu.
Vulgari refugit Poeta plectra
Heroum canere arma [quippe tristis
Vices Ambitio suas meretur)
Imbelli neque plorat usque questu
Atfioresjuvenumque virginumqtce.
Hicfons nobilior : Cato ipse qualeg
- Fudit pro patrid ruente, Noster
Edudt lacrymas ; furore prisco
Accenditque animos, genamque guttis
Romanis docet imbui Britannam.
Virtus scilicet hie videndaformd
Humana ! Hie Plato mente quod creavit,
'¦ Cato quod fuit .' En, quod ipse cceli
Rex spectaculum amaverit, procellis
Luctantem patries virum ; cadentemquCi
Hesc cum condderet ! Suis Catonem
Dantemjura, quis haud amorefagrat,
Ut vidit, patriee f Quis haudagenti
Plaudit f Quis simul et mori, gementem
Quicunque audiit, haud avet ? Triumphat
Dum Ctssar spolia inter, atque xdctos
Ostentat populo duces (superbce
Heu mentis nimium, impotensquefastus .')
Turha ut forte sui Catonis ire
Cernunt effigiem,_diestenebris

JOSEPH ADDISON. 123
among which, the names of Steele and of Eusden de
serve to be distinguished.*
Visa horrescere, publidsque pompa
Defleri lacrymis. Canente nulld
To voce Triumphe, victor orbis
Solus secum ovat .• ultimum suorum
Mavult Roma dolere ; Cessarique.
Minor gloria quam fuit Catoni.
Hunc tufoveris : Hip tuos, Britanni
Quisquis nomine gaudeas, moveto
Plausus. Non poiuit Cato ille Major
Urbemferre scientid inqiiinatam
Grtscd ;. Gallica nos satis theaira,
Fractesque Italico ore cantilence
Ceperunt ; sapiat sibi, atque scena
Mstujam patriofremat. Britannis-
IsthcBcfabida convenit, severus
Quam non ips§ Cato audiens ruberet.
* By M. Boyer it was immediately, though very indifferently,
translated into French. The Abb6 du Bos, alsOj-made an excel
lent version of it ; of which, however, only the three first scenes
were printed. -An Italian translation, by Salvini, was acted at
Leghorn with great applause, and subsequently published at
Florence. Whether the version by Signer Valetta, a young
Neapolitan nobleman, was ever given to the world or not, is un
known. The Jesuits at St. Omer's converted it into Latin, and
caused it to be performed by their pupils with great splendor.
They, likewise, sent Mr. Addison a copy of their translation.
The following translation of the Soliloquy — • It must be so,'
&c. which opens the fifth act, inserted in the ' Spectator,' No.
628, as a composition for " conciseness, purity, and elegance
of phrase never to be sufficiently admired," was made, accord
ing to Mr. Nichols, not by Atterbury (though once ascribed
to his pen), but by Bland, successively Master and Provost of
Eton, and Dean of Durham.
Act V. Scene 1.
Cato solus, Sfc.
Sic, sic, se habere rem necesse prorms est:
Ratione vincis; deilubetts mantes, Plato.

124 JOSEPH ADDISON.
Queen Anne was not the last in doing justice to
the author and his performance. She was pleased to
Quid enim dedisset, quce deditfrusim nihil,
JEternitatis insitam cupidinem
Natura? Quorsum hesc dulds expect'atio,
Vitaque non explenda melioris sitis?
Quid vult sibi aliud iste redeundi in nihil
Horror, sub imis quemque agens preecordiis f
Cur territa in se refugit anima; cur f remit
Attonita, quoties morte ne pereat timet ?
Particula nempe est cuique nascenti indita
Divinior, quce corpus incolens agit,
Heminique succinit, ' Tua est estermtas.*
JEternitas ! O lubricum nimis asptci,
Mixtumque dulci gaiidiumformidine !
Quce demigrabitur alia hinc in corpora f
Quce terra mox incognita, quis orbis novus
Manet incolendus ? Quanta erit mutatio ?
Hesc intuenii spatia mihi quaqua patent
Jmniensa : ied caligiiiosii nox premit, ;
Nee Ittce clard tfult videri singula.
Figendus hie pes ; certa sunt hcec haetenus i
Si quodgubernet numen humaniim genus
(At, quod guber net, esse clamant omnia)
Virtute non gaUdere.certe non potest ;
Nee esse nott beata, qud gaudet, potest,
Sed qua beata in sede, qmve tempore f
Hesc quanta quanta terra tota est Ccesaris.
Quid dubius heeret animus usque adeb? Brevi
Hie nodum, hie omnem expediet, Arma en induor^
[Ensi manum admovelie.
Jn tetrttmque partem facta ; quceque vim inferanf,
Et quesprdpulsent! Dextera intentat necem,
Vitam sinistra : minus hesc dabit manus.
Altera medelam vulneris : hie ad exitum
Deducet ictu simplici, hesc vetant mori.
Secura ridet anima mucronis minus
Ensesque strictos, interire nescia.
Extinguet eetas sidera diufttrnior .•
Mtate lahguens ipse sol obscurior

JOSEPH ADDISON. 12S
iSgriify an incUnation of having it dedicated to her ;
but as he had proposed to inscribe it elsewhere, in
order to avoid offending either his duty or his honour,
he pubUshed it without any dedication at aU. If in
the subsequent part of his life his leisure had been
greater, we are told he would have composed anothet
tragedy, entitled, ' The Death of Socrates.' But t,he
honours bestowed upon him, for what he had afready
written, deprived posterity of this projected labour.
He had, Ukewise, formed the design of compUing an
EngUsh Dictionary, on the plan of tiiat drawn up in
ItaUan by the Academy DeUa Crusca ; but being on
tiie death of the Queen appointed Secretary to the
Lords Justices, regents of the kingdom tUl the arrival
of Gteorge L, he laid aside his intention. The new
Sovereign had some intention of again making him
Secretary of State; but he preferred accepting a
second time (under the Earl of Sunderland) the
secretaryship to the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.
This office, however, he held but for a very short
period ; for, on Sunderland's removal, he was made
one of the Lords of Trade.
In 1715, on the first breaking out of the rebdUon,
Emittet orbi consenescentijuhar :
Natura et ipsa sentiet quondam mces
j^tatis ; annis ipsa deficiet gravis :
At tibijuventus, at tibi immortalitas,
Tibi parta divum est vita. Periment mutuis
Elementa sese, et inter ibunt, ictibus.
Tu pe¥manebis sola semper integra,
Tu iMncta rerum quassa, cuncta nauftaga.
Jam portu in ipso tuta contemplabere,
Compage ry,ptd, corruent in se invicem,
Qr&esqsj^fmotis ingerentur orbibus:
Illeesa tu sedebis extrafragijidna.. 1

128 JOSEPH ADDISON.
he pubUshed the 'Freeholder,'* which is a kind of
poUtical Spectator.
These papers Addison wrote out of a desfre to
remove prejudices, and from a strong incUnation
to support the government. The Secretaryship 'of
State therefore, to which he was appointed in 1717,,
was but a proper recompence for a service, which
more than balanced the deficiency (objected by him^
self against his own preferment) that he was ntr
speaker in the House of Commons.
His health, which had been previously inipafrei
by an asthmatic disorder, suffered exceedingly from
this honourable but very fatiguing advancement. He<
bore it however with great patience, tUl suspecting
that it might be prejudicial to the pubUc business, he
obtained permission to resign. Having thtis procured
for himself a reUef from the toUs and anxieties, of
poUtical Ufe, he speedUy grew better, and his friends
were encouraged to hope that his health would have
been thoroughly re-estabUshed.
In: his leisure-moments he appUed himself to a
work on the ' Evidences of Christianity,' of which
the first part, though unfinished, is printed in his
works. He, Ukewise, intended to have paraphrased
* ' The Freeholder ' is particularly mentioned, because it was
a work written exclusively by Addison, and upon hfei own plan.
Some indeed have supposed, that he was assisted »« H by Phi
lips. But for this report there seems to be no foundation, as
neither Tickell says any thing of it, nor does it appear from the
papers themselves that they were composed by different hands ;
being the most uniform, and generally the most unlike every stile
except that of Addison, that can be imagined: He published
also, at this time, some Verses to Sir Godfrey Kneller on the
King's Picture, and a Poetical Address sent to the Princess of
Wales with the Tragedy of Cato.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 12t
some of the Psalms of David ; but a long and painful
relapse intercepted aU his designs, and carried him off
in June 1719. He died at HoUand House near Ken
sington ; leaving behind him an only daughter by the
Countess Dowager of Warwick, whom he had mar
ried in 1716.*
After his decease Mr. TickeU, who had his instruc
tions, pubUshed his Works in four volumes 4to. This
edition contains several pieces hitherto unmentioned.
The first in date is, ' The Dissertation upon Medals ;'
of which the materials, coUected in Italy, had been
digested in a great measure into order at Vienna
in the year 1702.
In November 1707, appeared a pamphlet under
the title of, ' The Present State of the War, and the
Necessity of an Augmentation considered ; ' which is
now received among his compositions. The spirit
indeed with which it is written, it's observations upon
the strength and interest of foreign nations, and the
comprehensive knowledge displayed in it upon aU
matters relating to our own, evince it to be the pro
duct of no ordinary hand.
The ' Whig Examiner ' caihe out for the first time
in September, 1710. Of this, the five papers attri
buted to Addison are the harshest things he ever
wrote; treating SachevereU, Prior, and many other
persons with extreme severity. ' The Examiner '
had previously, however, done the same thing on the
part of the Tories ; and the avowed design of this
publication was to make reprisals.
* In a MS. Letter of Dr. Cheyne to Lord Harley, dated
August 9, we are informed, " Lady Warwick's marriage with
Mr. Addison ,is upon terms ; he giving 4000/, in lieu of some
estate, which she loses for his sake."

128 JOSEPH ADDISON-
In 17J3, a small and bitter pamphlet, ent
• The late Trial and Conviction of Count TarifiE;
was p^bUshed to expose the Tory ministry, ou the
subject of the Freiich Commerce BUl. These ar# aljj
that were ineludesd in Mr. TickeU's edition ; no notice
being taken in it of the ' Dmmmer, or the Hauittga
House,' a comedy subseqiiently published as Addi
son's by Sfr Bichard Steele.*
Prior to the appearance of Pope's lUad, in 17X5,
the translator had a quarrel with Addison, upon' thp
grounds of which both were sUent. Bnt the feeUnp
of the nation were engaged in tracing the obscwig
commencement, and it's secret growth : for literat;iipg
at that time, as it has been remarked, divided M^h.
poUtics the pubUc interest ; and Blaqkstojcwe hJip^K
did not reftise to withdraw a whUe from the sevai%
of his professional laboni's in order to. scwfeisejiji'is
causes. Superior then as the statesmari was to t}ie
bard in age, rank, and forturie, of estabUshed Uteraif
fame, and high iri the Ust of successful poUticiajjs, h?
could not suppress his ambition of being regarded gs
a great poet. His agitation, indeed^ on the |Bfs|
riight of his ' Cato ' was such, that it was suppc^ed
it's damnation would have sensibly affected his heatth,
Hinc nice lacrymce. He was jealous of Pc^&
Through the mediation of Steele and Gay, howeyer
they were prevaUed upon to see each other. They
* To Addison, likewise, the following pieces have been as
cribed ; ' Dissertatio de insignioribus Romanorum Poetis; or, ' A
Dissertation upon the most eminent Roman Poets,' supposed
to have been written about 1692; and ' A Discourse on An
cient and Modern Learning;' preserved among the manuspripts
pf Lord Somers, and with them publicly spld after the degth
ftfSir Joseph Jekyl, upon which it fp,vijj.4 it's way to the preS
in 1739. ,

JOSEPH ADDISON. 129
met with cold civility-. With wine Addison's reserve
began to melt away. Pope then professed his wUl-
ingness to * hear his faults.' Addison made a formal
speech upon the subject, particulariy asserting the su
periority of TickeU's first Book of the lUad, Which
Pope beUeved to have proceeded from the pen of the
panegyrist himself. From this partial judgement,
therefore, he appealed With great vehemettce; arid
they separated with increased hostUity.*
In the latter end of 1718, the Peerage BiU began
first to be talked of; arid, from the ^arhl Which it iri-
Spfred, many papers were written with gtfeat spfrit
against it ; among the rest, one caUed the ' Plebeiari,'
and now known to have been draWri Up by Sit-
Richard Steele. ' To this, several answers Wefe pub
lished ; hut, of aU the pieces fcfrculated in support of
the project, none were favourably received. At length
came forth the first number of the 'Old Whig,' upon
the state of the peerage, containing remarks on the
Plebeian ; a pamphlet, written with considerable
strength and perspicuity. To this the author of the
Plebeian repUed with much asperity, aUeging that
' the work bore a very proper title ; the author, if
he was a Whig, seeming so old as to have forgotten
his principles.'
The second Old Whig was Written in support of
the first. It is a judicious, and at the same time an
extremely animated and humorous production ; from
the very beginning o1^ which, for the first time during
the controversy, it appears that Addison considered
Steele as his opponent. He stUes him, a " perfect
master of the vocation of pamphlet- writmg " in one
* See the Life of Poipe.
VOL. V. K

130 . JOSEPH ADDISON.
place; caUs him 'Little Dicky' in another; tells
him, " he has made the most of a bad cause "in a
thfrd ; and advises him as a friend, in the close, if he
goes on in his new vocation, to " take care that he
be as happy in the phoice of his subject, as he is in
the talents of a pamphleteer."
The fourth Plebeian, containing an answer to the
second Old Whig, exceeds in virulence the rest of the
papers. It's' conclusion, in particular, is remarkable;:
" Authors," he remarks, " in these cases are named
upon suspicion ; and if it is right as to the Old Whig,
I leave the world to judge of this cause by com^
parison of this performance with his other writings,;'
and I shaU say no more of what is written rii;
support of vassalage, but end this paper by firi%
every free breast with that noble exhortation of the
tragedian, ^
' Remember, O ! my friends,' &c.
' (Addison's Caio,)
This may suffice to show Sfr Richard's conjee-.
ture ; nor has any one questioned it's accuracy.—
The Peerage BUl went off, notwithstanding, for
that session ; and Addison died before it came on
again.* Of the manner of his death, some account has
been given by Dr. Ybung. After a long and manly
struggle with his distemper, he dismissed his physi
cians, and with them all hopes of life. With his
hopes of Ufe, however, he dismissed not his concern
for the Uving. He sent for the young Eari of War-
* It.maynot,'hQwevfer, be amiss' to observe,' that in Decem
ber 1719, on a motion in the House of Commons for it's com
mittal, it was carried ia^he negativ&by 269 against 177.

JOSEPH ADDISON. isi
wick, the issue of his lady by a foriher husband, who
immediately^ obeyed the summons. After a decent
and proper pause, his Lordship said, " Dear Sfr, you
sent formie: I beUeve and hope that-you have some
cOnimands; I shaU hold them most sacred." Forcibly
grasping his' noble step-son's hand, Mr.Addison softly
i-epUed, " See in what peace a Christian can die !"
He spoke with great difficulty, and soon afterward
expfred. "
¦ " His works, in Latin and EngUsh poetry," remarks
Mr. Gay, " long since convinced the world that he
was the greatest master in Europe of these two lan
guages : " and Felton pronounces him 'a perfect pat
tern of true poetic writing.' " He is more laboured
than Prior : Uke his great master VfrgU, he hath
weighed every word ; nor is there any expression in
aU his liries, that can be changed for any juster or
more forcible than itself"
Dr. Johnson observes bf him, that " if any judge
ment be made from his books or his moral charac
ter, nothing wiU be found but purity and excel
lence. Knowledge of mankind indeed, less extensive
than that of Addison, wUl show, that to write and to
Uve are very different. Many, who praise virtue, do
no more than praise it. Yet it is reasonable to be
Ueve, that Addison's professions and practice were at
no great variance ; since, amidst that storm of faction
iri Whicfr most of' his Ufe was passed, though his sta
tion ihade him conspicuous and his activity made him
fbi'inidable, the character given him by his friends
was never contradicted by his enemies. Of those, with
whom' interest or opinion united' him, he had not onjy
the esteem,' but the kindness ; and of others, whom' the

132 JOSEPH ADDISON.
violence of opposition drove against him, though he
might lose the love, he retained the reverence.
It is justly observed by TickeU, that ' he employ^
wit on the side of vfrtue and religion.' He not only
made the proper use of wit himself, but he taught it
to others ; and from his time it has been, generally,
subservient to the cause of reason and of truth. He
has dissipated the prejudice, that had long connecte(|
gayety with wit, and easiness of manners with laxitji
of principles- He has restored virtue to it's dignity,
and taught innocence not to be ashamedj This is an
elevation of Uterary character,
' Above all Greek, above all Roman fame.'
No greater feUcity can genius attain, than that of
having purified inteUectual pleasure, separated tm^%
from indecency, and wit from Ucentiousness ; of hav
ing taught a succession of writers to bring elegancy
arid gayety to the aid of goodness ; and, if I may use
e?ipressions yet more awefuh of having turned mm%
to righteousness." ,

EXTRACTS.
' Freeholder; No. 54.
>. ' The general division of the British nation is int^
Whigs and Tories, there being very few if any whp
^tand neuters in the dispute, without ranging them
selves under one of these denominations. One Would
therefore be apt to think, that every member of the
community, who embraces with this vehemence. the
principles of either of these parties, had
1

JOSEPH ADDISON. 13§
lifted and examined them, and was secretly convinced
of their preference to those of that party which he re-i
jects. And yet it is certain that most of our feUoW-
silhjects are guided in this particular, either by
the prejudice of education, private interest, personal
friendships, or a deference to the judgement of those,
who perhaps in thefr own hearts disapprove the opi
nions which they industriously spread among the mul
titude. Nay, there is nothing more undoubtedly true,
than that great numbers of one side concur in reaUty
with the notions of those whom they oppose, were
they able to explain thefr impUcit sentiments, and to
teU their own meaning;
' However, as it becomes every reasonable man to
examine those principles by which he acts, I shaU in
tius paper select some consideratibns, out of many
that might be insisted ori, tb show the preference of
what is generaUy caUed the Whig Scheme to that
which is espoused by the Tories.
' This wiU appeari in the first place, if we reflect
upon the tendency of thefr respective prindples, sup
posing them carried to thefr utmost extreiriity. For
if, in this case, the wOrst cbrisequences of the one are
more eUgible than the worst consequences of the other,
it is a plain argument that those principles are the
most eUgible of the two, whose effects are the least
pernicious. Now the tendency bf these two different
sets of principles, as they are charged upon each party
by it's antagonists, is as foUows : The Tgries teU us,
that the Whig scheme would end in Presbyterianism
and a Commonwealth. The Whigs teU us, on the
othe^ side, that the Tory scheme would terminate in
Popery and Arbitrary Government. Were these re
proaches mUtuaUy true, which would be most prefer-

134 , JOSEPH ADDISON,
able to any man .^of. .common sense, Preshyteriamsm
arid a RepubUcan form of Government, or Popery
and Tyranny? Both extremes are frideed dreadfu|,
but not equaUy so ; both to be regarded with ithe; ut
most aversion by the friends of pur, constitution, an4
lovers of our country : but if one of , them were in-
eyitable, who. would not rather choose to Uve under a
state of, excessive Uberty, than of slavery, and ;not
prefer a, reUgion that differs from, our own. in the cir-
cumstantials, before one that differs from it in the es
sentials of Christianity. •
'Secondly, let us look into the , history , of Eng^
land, and see under which of these two, schemes the
nation hath enjoyed most honour; and prosperity. If
we; observe the reigns of Queen EUzabeth. and King
James I. (which an impudent Frenchman caUs ' the
'rqigns of King EUzabeth apd .Queen, James' ) we
find the Whig scheme took place under the first, and
the Tory scheme under the latter. The first,' in
whom the Whigs have always gloried, opposed,a|id
humbled the most powerful among the Roman Ca
thoUc Princes, raised and supported the Dutch,; as
sisted the French Protestants, and made the Refornj,ed:
ReUgion an overrbalance for' Popery through all Eu
rope.. On the contrary, her successor aggrandised
the CathoUc King, alienated himself from the, Dutch,
suffered the French power to increase ;tUl it was; too
late to remedy it, and abandoned the interests of the
King of Bohemia, grandfather to his present Majesty;
which might have spreadthe Reformed Religion through
aU Germany. I need not describe to the reader the
different state of the Mngdom, as to it's reputation,
trade, and cwealth, under these ; two reigns. -; We
might, after this, compare the figure in which these
4

JOSEPH ADDISONv i35,
kingdoms, and the whole Protestant interest of Eu
rope, were placed by the conduct of King Charles II.
and that of King WiUiam ; and every one knows,
•which of the schemes prevaUed in each of- those
reigns. I shaU not impute to any Tory scheme the
administration of King James II. on condition that
they do not reproach the Whigs with the usurpa
tion of OUver; as being satisfied that the principles
of those governments are respectively disclaimed,
and abhorred, by aU the men of sense and virtue in
both parties, as they now stand. But we have a fresh
instance, which wUl be remembered with grief by the
present age and aU our posterity, of the influence both
of Whig and Tory principles in the late reign. -Was
England ever so glorious in the eyes of Europe, . as
in that part ofit -when the first prevaUed; or Was
it evermore contemptible, than when the la,st took
place ?
• ' I shaU add, under this head, the preference ofthe
Whig scheme, -with regard. to foreigners. AU the
Protestant states of Europe, who riiay be considered
as^neutral judges between both parties, and are weU-
.wishers to us in. general as to a Protestant people,
rejoice upon the success of a Whig, scheme; whUst
all of : the Church of Rome, who contemn, hate, and
detest us as the great bulwark of heresy, are as much
pleased. when the opposite party triumphs in it's turn.
And, here, let any impartial* man put this question to
his own heart ; Whether that party doth not act
reasonably, who look upon the Dutch as their genuine
friends and, aUies : considering that they are of the
Reformed Religion, that they have assisted us in the
greatest, times of necessity, and that they can never
entertain a thought of reducing us under their power?

186 JOSEPH ADDISON.
Or, on the other hand, fet him consider; Whether that
party acta with m.ore reason, who are the avowed
friends of a nation that are of the Roman CathoUc
ReUgion, that have crueUy persecuted our brethren of
the Reformations that have made attempts in aU ages
to conquer this island, and supported the interest of
that Princg; who abdicated the throne, and had en*
deavoured to subvert our civU and reUgious Uberties;.,
' Thfrdly, let us compare these two schemes from
the effects they produce among ourselves within our
own. island; and these we may consider, first with re
gard to the King, and secondly with regard- to th^
jPeople. • 1. With regard to the King : The Whigs have al-,
ways professed and practised an obedience, which they
conceive agreeable to the constitution : whereas the
Tories have concurred with the Whigs in thefr prac-i
tice, though they differ from them in thefr profes-i
sions; and have avowed a principle of passive obedi
ence, to the temptation, and afterward to the de*
struction, of those who have reUed upon it. Nor
must I here omit to take notice of that firm and zeal-,
pus adherence, which the Whig party have shown to
the Protestant Succession, and to the cause of his pre-;
sent Majesty. I have never heard of any in thisi
principle, who was either giulty or suspected of mea
sures to defeat this estabUshment, or to overturn it
since it has taken effect ; a consideration which, it
is hoped, may put to silence those who upbraid the
Whig schemes of government with an incUnation to
ajgommonwealth, or a disaffection to Kings.
' 2. With regard tothePeople : Every one must own,.«
that those laws, which have most conduced to the ease
and happiness of the subject, have always passed: ui;

JOSEPH ADDISON. 137
those parUaments which thefr enemies branded with
the name of Whig, and during the time of a Whig
ministry. And, what is very remarkable, the Tories
are now forced to have recourse to those laws for
shelter and protection ; by which they tacitly do ho
nour to the Whig scheme, and own it more accom
modated to the happiness of the people than that
which they espouse.
' I hope I need not qualify these remarks with
a supposition, which I have gone upon through the
whole course of my papers, that I am far from con
sidering a great part of those, who call themselves
Tories, as enemies to the present estabUshment ; and
that by the Whigs I always mean those, who are
friends to our constitution both in Church and State.
As we may look upon these to be, in the main, true
lovers of thefr reUgion and country, they seem rather
to be divided by accidental friendships and circum
stances, than by any essential distinction.'

To Lord Halifax.
' While you, my Lord, tbe rural shades admire.
And. ftom Britannia's public posts retire ;
Nor longer, her ungrateful sons to please.
For their advantage sacrifice your ease :
Me into foreign realms my fate conveys.
Through nations fruitful of immortal lays.
Where the soft season and inviting clime
Conspire to trouble your repose with rhyme.
For wheresoe'er I turn my ravish'd eyes.
Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise.
Poetic fields encompass me around,
And still I seem to tr^ad on classic ground ;
For here the Muse so oft her harp has strung.
That not a mountain rears it's head unsung.

I3S JOSEPH ADDISON;
Renown'd in verse each shady thicket grdwS,
And every stream in heavenly numbers' flows.
How am I pleased to search the hills and woods^
For rising springs and celebrated floods ;
To view the Nar, tumultuous in his coursfe.
And trace the smooth Clitumnus to his source •;
To see the Mincio draw his watery store
Through the long windings of a fruitful shore.
And hoary Albula's infected tide
.O'er the warm bed of smoking sulphur glide.
Fired with a thousand 'raptures, I survey
Eridanus through flowery meadows stray.
The king of floods ! that rolling o'er the plains
The towering Alps of half their moisture drains,
And proudly swoln with a whole winter's snows,
Distributes wealthand plentywhere he flows!
Soihetimes, misguided by 'the tuneful throng,
I look for streams immortalised in" song,
That lost in silence and oblivion lie
(Dumb are their fountains, and their channels dry)
Yet run for ever by the Muse's skill,
"And in the smooth description murmur still.
Sometimesto' gentle Tiber I retire.
And the famed river's empty shores admire.
That destitute of strength derives it's course
From thirsty urns and an unfruitful source ;
Yet, sung so often in poetic lays.
With scorn the Danube and the Nile surveys 
So high the deathless Miise' exalts her theme !
Such was the Boyne, a poor inglorious stream,
That in Hibernian vales obscurely stray'd.
And unobserved in wild meanders play'd ;
'Till by your lines and Nassau's sword renown'd,
It's rising billows through the world resound.
Where'er the hero?s godlike, acts can pierce.
Or where the fame of an immortal verse.
Oh, could the Muse my ravish'd breast inspire
With warmth like yours, andiraiSe an equal fire,
Unnumber'd beauties in my verse should shine.
And Virgil's Italy sbould-yield to mine !
See how the golden groves around me smile.
That shunthe-coast of Britain's.stormy isle;

JOSEPH ADDISON: 139
Or, when transplanted and preserved with care,
Curse the cold clinie, and starve in, northern air.
Here kindly warmth their mountain-juice ferments
To nobler tastes, and. more exalted scents:.
Even the rough rocks with tender myrtle bloom.
And trodden weeds, send out a rich perfume.
Bear me some,.Go.d to Baia's gentle seats.
Or cover me.in Umbria's green retreats:
Where western gales eternally reside.
And, all, the seasons lavish all their pride ;
Blossoms, and fruits, and flowers together rise.
And the whole year in gay confusion lies.
Immortal glories in ray mind revive.
And in my soul a thousand passions strive,
When Rome's exalted beauties I descry
Magnificent in piles of ruin He.
An amphitheatre's, amazing height
Here fills my eye with terror and delight ;
That on it's public shows unpeopled Rome,
And held, uncrpwded, nations in it's womb :.j
Here pillars rough with sculpture pierce the skies,
And here the proud triumphal arches rise,
Where the old Romans' deathless acts diSplay'd
Their base degenerate progeny upbraid ;
While rivers here; forsake the. fields below.
And wondering at their height through airy channels flow.
Still to new scenes my wandering Muse retires,
And the dumb show of breathing rocks admires ;
Where the smooth chisel, all it's force has shown,
And soften'd into flesh the rugged stone.
In solemn silence a majestic band,
Heroes,, and Gods and Ropan Consuls stand.
Stern Tyrants, whom their cruelties renown,
And Emperors in Parian marble frown ;
While the bright dames, to whpm they humbly sued,
Still show; the charms that their proud hearts subdued.
Fain would I Raphael's go;dlike art rehearse,
And show the immortal labours in my verse,
Where from the mingled strength of shade and light
A new creation rises to my sight ;
Such heavenly figures from his pencil How,
So warm with life his blended polours glow :

140 JOSEPH ADDISON.
From theme to theme with secret pleasure toSt, '
Amidst the soft variety I'm lost.
Here pleasing airs my ravish'd soul confound.
With circling notes and labyrinths of sound.
Here domes and temples rise in distant views,
And opening palaces invite my Muse.
How has kind Heaven adorn'd the happy land.
And scatter'd blessings with a wasteful band *
But what avail her unexhausted stores.
Her blooming mountains, and ber sunny shores.
With all the gifts that heaven and earth impart.
The smiles of nature, and the charms of art ;
While proud Oppression in her valleys reigns.
And Tyranny usurps her happy plains ?
The poor inhabitant beholds in vain
The reddening orange, and the swelling grain :
Joyless he sees the growing oils and wines.
And in the myrtle's fragrant shade repines ;
Starves, in'the midst of nature's bounty curst.
And in the loaden vineyard dies for thirst.
Oh Liberty, thou goddess heavenly bright.
Profuse of bliss, and pregnant with delight!
Eternal pleasures in thy presence reign,
And smiling plenty leads thy wanton train :
Eased of her load. Subjection grows more light.
And Poverty looks cheerful in thy sight ;
Thou makest the gloomy face of nature gay,
Givest beauty to the sun and pleasure to the day.
Thee, Goddess,' thee Britannia^s isle adores;
How has she oft exhausted all her stores.
How oft in fields of death thy presence sought.
Nor thinks the mighty prize too dearly bought !
On foreign mountains may the sun refine
The grape's soft juice, and mellow it to wine.
With citron groves adorn a distant soil.
And the fat olive swell with floods of oil :
We envy not the warmer clime, that lies
In ten degrees of more indulgent skies.
Nor at the coarseness of our heaven repine.
Though o'er our heads the frozen Pleiads shine ;
'Tis Liberty that crowns Britannia's isle,
And makes herbarren rocks and her bleak mountains smile.

JOSEPH ADDISON. Ut
Others with towering piles may please the sight.
And in their proud aspiring domes delight ;
A nicer touch to the .stretch'd canvas give.
Or teach their animated rocks to live :
'Tis Britain's care to watch o'er Europe's fete.
And hold in balance each contending state.
To threaten bold presumptuous kings with war.
And answer her afflicted neighbour's prayer.
The Dane and Swede, roused up by fierce alarms,
Bless the wise conduct of her pious arms :
Soon as her fleets appear, their terrors cease.
And all the northern world lies hush'd in peace.
Th' ambitious Gaul beholds with secret dread
Her thunder aim'd at liis aspiring head.
And fain her godlike sons would disunite
By foreign gold, or by domestic spite ;
But strives in vain to conquer or divide.
Whom Nassau's arms defend and counsels guide.
Fired with the name, which I so oft haye found
The distant climes and different tongues resound,
I bridle-in my struggling Muse with pain, -
That longs to launch into a bolder strain.
But I've already troubled you too long.
Nor dare attempt a more adventurous song.
My humble verse demands a softer theme,
A painted meadow, or a purling stream ;
Unfit for heroes, whom immortal lays.
And lines like Virgil's, or like yours, should praise.'

Ad insigfiissimum virum
D. THO. BURNETTUM,
* Sacres Theories Telluris ' auctorem,
Non usitatum carminis alitem,
Bumette, poscis, non humiles modos :
Vulgare plectrum, langtCidceqwe
. Respuis qffidum Camcenee.
Tu mixta ,re1mm semina consdus
Molemque citrms dissociabilem,
Terramque concretam, et lateniem
Oeeanum gremio capad :

142 JOSEPH ADDISON.
Dum veritatem queerere pertinax
Ignota pandis, sollicitus pariim '
Utcuiique stet commune vulgi
Arbitrium et populdris error.
Auditur ingens continuofra'gor :
Illdpsa tellus'lubrica des'erit
Fundamina, et compage fractd
Suppositas gravis urget undas.
Impulsus erumpit medius liquor.
Terras aquarurn effusa licentia-
Claudit vidssim ; has inter orbis
Relliquiee fuitant prioris.
Nunc et recluso carcere luddam
Baleena spectat solis imaginem,
Stellasque miratur nuiantes,
Et tremulee simulacra litnee.
Quee pompa vocum non imiiabilis,
Qualis calesdt spiritus ingeni;
Ut tollis undas, ut fremeniem
Diluvii reprimis tumidtum !
Quis tam volenti pectoref err eus,
Ut non tremiscens et timido pede
Incedat, orbis dum dolosi " '
Detegis instabiles ruinas ?
Quin hesc cadentumfragmina montium
Natura vtdtum sumere simplicem
Coget refingens, in priorem
Mox iterum redituraformam,
Nimbis rubentem sulphureis Jovem
Cernas ut udis sesvit atrox hyems
Incendiis, commune mundo
Et populis meditata busticm !
Nudus liquentes plorat Athos nives,
Et mox liquescens ipse adamantinum
Fundit cacumen, dum per imas
Saxafuunt resoluta valles,
Jamque alta cceli mania corruunt, '
Et vestra tandem pagind {proh nefas/)
Bumette, vestra augebit ignes,
Heu socio peritura mundo !
Mox esqua tellus, mox subitus viror
Ubique rident : en tei-etem globum .',

JOSEPH ADDISON. 143
En leeta vernantes Favoni
Flamina, perpetuosque fores!
O pectus ingens ! 0 animum gravem
Mundi capacem ! Si bonus auguror,
'Te,- nostra quo tellus superbit,
Accipiet renovata civem.

144

MATTHEW PRIOR.*

[1664—1721.]

X RIOR is generally ranked among the celebrated
poets of England ; but, as his talents for business in
troduced him to considerable pubUc employments, he
is also poUticaUy entitled to a place in this work. He
was the son of Mr. George Prior, citizen of London
and joiner, and was born in 1664. His father dying
when he was young, left him to the care of his uncle,
a vintner near Charing Cross; who discharged the
trust reposed in him, as Prior himself always grate
fully acknowledged, with a tenderness truly paternal.
Part of his education he received under Dr. Bushy,
at Westminster School, where he acqufred a taste,
which led him, when he was afterward taken home
to his uncle's eniployment, to prosecute at leisure-
hours his study of the classics, and especiaUy of his
favourite Horace. Hence, he was speedUy noticed
by the more enUghtened company, who resorted to
the Rummer Tavern, Mr. Prior's house. It hap
pened one day, that the Earl of Dorset being thete
with several gentlemen of rank, the discourse
turned upon a passage in Horace's Odes ; and, the
* Authority. Memoirs by Humphrey, prefixed to hi*
Poems, 1733.

MATTHEW PRIOR. 145
party being divided in thefr sentiments, one of them
said, " I find we are not Ukely to agree in our critic
cisms ; but, if I am not mistaken, there is a young
feUow in the house, w^ho is able to set us aU right :"
upon which Prior was immediately sent fof-, and at
thefr request deUvered his opinion so highly to thefr
satisfaction, that Dorset determined instantly to re
move him to a station more suited to his genius.*
He accordingly sent him to St. John's CoUege, Cam
bridge,! where he took his degree of B. A. ih 1686,
and afterward became a FeUow ofthe CoUege.
During his residence in the University, he con
tracted an intimate friendship with Charles Montagu,
Esq. of Trinity CoUegO, subsequently Earl of HaU
fax ; in conjunction with whom he wrote a humorbiis
piece, entitled ' The Hind and the Panther, trarts-
versed to the story of the Country Mouse and the
City Mouse,' printed in 1687, in answer to Dryden's
* Hind and Panther,' which had been pubUshed the
year before. This performiance was foUowed by more
soUd advantages than the mere pleasure of fretting
Df^en, who thought it ' hardy that an old man
should be so treated by those to Whomi he had always
beencivU;' for both it's authors were speedSlypre-
* Fromone of Prior's epistles,- however, to Fleetwood Shep
pard, Esq. it would appear that his earliest benefactor was that
getttleman, and that it was probably he who recommended him
to LoVd Dorset :
• Nbw'as you took me up when little.
Gave me my learning and ihy vittle,
Ask'd for me from my Lqrd things fitting, &c.'
t Here he was recorded by the President, at his admission,
as ofWinborne in Middlesex; by himself the next day, of "Dorset
shire; and five years afterward, when he stood' candidate for a
feljow'ship, as of Middlesex : in the last instance, u^oia oath;
VOL. V. L

146 MATTHEW PRIOR,
ferred. Montagu obtained the first notice, with some
degree of discontent, as it appears, to his poetic^
confederate :
' My friend Charles Montagu's preferr'd ;
Nor would I have it long observ'd.
That one Mouse eats, while t'other's starved.*
Prior gave a farther proof of his poetic talent by
an * Ode to the Deity,' written in 1688 as a coUege^
exercise. Upon the Revolution, he was brought to
court by Dorset, and through his interest intro
duced to pubUc employment; being made in 1690
Secretary to the Earl of Berkeley, the EngUsh Pleni
potentiary at the Congress held at the Hague.
In this station he acquitted himself so weU, that his
Majesty, desfrous to retain him near his person, made
him one of the Gentlemen of his Bedchamber. On
the death of the Queen, when an emulation of elegy
was universal, he brought his tribute of tuneful sor
row among the rest, in an ' Ode presented to the
King on his Majesty's arrival in HoUand ; ' of which
the language niight be censured as encomiastic, if
Mary's vhtues did not justify the most unquaUfied
praise. In 1697, he was appointed Secretary to the
Earls of Pembroke and Jersey and Sfr Joseph WU-
Uamson, Embassadors and Plenipotentiaries at the
treaty of Ryswick ; and received, from the Lords
Jiistices, a present of two hundred guineas for bring
ing it over to England. In the same year, he was
nominated Principal Secretary of State for' Ireland;
and, the year foUowkig, Secretary to the Eari of
Portland, Embassador at the court of France.
WhUe he was in that kingdom, one of the oflicers
ofthe royal household, showing hun the paintings of
Le Brun at VersaUles, in which the victories of Louis
6

MATTHEW PRIOR. 14?
XIV. are portrayed, asked him, " Whether King
WUUam's actions were to be seen in his palace?"
" No, Sfr," repUed Prior ; " the monuments of my
master's achievements are to be seen every where
but in his own house." In this station he continued,
during the two embassies of the Earls of Portland
atad Jersey.
The next year WiUiam sent for him, from Eng
land, to a private conference at his palace at Loo in
HoUand ; and, upon his retum, he was made Under
Secretary in the ofiice of the Earl of Jersey, Secre
tary for the Northern Provinces. At a subsequent
period, he went to Paris, where he had a principal
share ii^ negotiating the Partition Treaty.
In 1700, he was created M. A. by Mandamus i
and appointed one of the Lords Commissioners of
trade and plantations, upon the resignation of Mr.
Locke. The same year, he pubUshed his ' Carmen
Seciilare; the largest and most splendid of his com
positions. In praise of King WilUam, says Ander
son, he exhausts aU his powers of celebration. WU*
Uam, as ^ven Dr. Johnson admits, suppUed copious
materials for either verse or prose. His whole Ufe
had been actidn, and he possessed the high quaUties
of steady resolution and personal courage. After
defending his own country from foreign invasion, and
deUvering others from domestic usurpation, he headed
a confederacy formed by his wisdom and his vigour
against Louis XIV., who wished to reduce England
under the arbitrary sway of a tyrant depending on
himself, and to isubjugate the rest of Europe! By
his efforts the French Monarch was stopped in his
career, and compeUed to acknpwledge that man as
Chief Magistrate of England^ on whom the people
L 2

148 BI^TTHE^ PEiaH.
W^re, ple§^ to confer 1(h^. ^ce. il,Bd|S more nobfe,
or ^c?esis mo^e glorioijiiS ^an his,, cannot weU be
iip^gined. He wa? really in the mind, whajt he w^
pj^Oflipjcpced in the verses, of the, jjfy^f tviW, jiis%a
considi^^ed him as a hea^o; and was aiG<5»st^5pQd to
say, that ' he praised others in CQinpUai]>ce with thg
fashion, but in celebrating WiUiam he fqljQ^K-ed h®
incUnatipns.' IiV the, parUamentj, which met in l.TQl,;. hi^ iKas
chpsei^ R^pi;e^njl;at^ve of i^last Grip^ea^, ia3i?es£)
His electipjj \^as, foUowed^ hy a chajige qf hj|> ppUlfesi-
for he joined the Tori^ in, voting fo^ th^ imp^aQhr.
men^ of Lord Soijjer^ and the ot^r I^(^% ch^ijg^il^
with having adyispd, the.^l^aftijl^pn: Treaty, ip,vhlfih(
hp hi;^?i?l^f,l»ad been mjnisteriaJly employed! By tips
ajjandowig; t^:; Whigs, with, whom h^ had hitheftgf
avowedly aqtpd, upon principle, and, to whpmj 1^, oijf^d:
his promotion, he incurred, a qharge of inqonsistgijsj?,.
whiph ingenuity ha^ lajbouredin vain to , rep^h 3^fe
whateiv^r ij(^ight; be the cause of his appstasys. with.
th)^ prdipaiy zeal, of a convert he stuc^ sittnothiflg'
t9, sgi^s^ his ij^w friends. So ardent, indgedj \ps, I^
yoiithfvdi Toryism, tha|; he didnot wiffingly^gil&4?iai&
¦w^^Jl, nH^ qf his. anf^ent party.
7)4er the acqession of Queen Anne^ he exerted*
hi^po^ti9al,t^fnts,i« hpi^our of his country^ iji, Usk
*I^^tJ«P tp Bo^eavion the Victory of Blenh^ijisi.,iJ»,
l.^Q4,;' uppii whiqh oqca?ip.n, he, had two rivafe iji,,
Ad(li.S!Pfl ai^d.PhiUps.
A^ftV!^.tld??P?riod^,%W<^ he pubfrshed ajvolsj^
ofrfloem^, iixt^oducedbya dedicatipn tp Lipn^liEaJrli
of I Dpr^ , a^ .Middlesex, It began with , the *^ Colt.
l^e.^3^rcj§^,^ Mi4-en#d; with :' Henry and Erwmft*':
%> m. fT^m^im.^ evppt [ of that Ti^gnipassed sund^

MATTHEW PMOR* i*i
nKed by po^ti-^i, the battle of Randies sodft afterward
excited, him to anothei- poetical eflbW^, i'h the stanza
of Spenser, in honotlr of his countiy, ehtitted ' Afl
Ode bn the GloribUs Stieeess of her Majesty's Attn*
in 1706.'
In lYlO, he Was stipposed to ha'^^ ^tleii ^ohl^
papers in ' The Exkmiiiel- ;' p'articularlyj the critici^tti
upon a poetti addressed by Dr. G^h ta the Slari of
GodoljJhin.* Gfedolphiti bgltig nb# dfefoated hf Ox-
fordi and iM Tories (long €taipM b^ thfe luStte of
Mariborough) beginning agdW to shd# th'eir hfeads',
Prior and Garth espoused Opposite interests ; the first
forj and the latter iagainst, the court. The Dottor
did not desert his fJatf oil itt disti-^Ss : and his v^tsesj
addressed to him during the depression bf his partyi,
whatever may Be thefr Uterai^ character, beai- the
more honourable starhp of ^atieifui arid pietsevering
attachment. Thus early initiated iti p-clbUfe affairSj and ih^
volved in thefr perplexities for many years, that Prior
should have found any opportunities of cultivating his
ppetieai taleritsj is not a little sur^jrisirig. Iri thfe pie-
face io his PbferiiSi he say^, that * poet^ WSs ditiy the
j;i*6drict df his leisure-hour's ; that he iiad coiniriodl^
l)usiness enough upon his hands, and (as he modestly
adds) that he was oidy a poet by accident.''!
* This was a(n«w6red by Addiiorr^ in thd ' Whig Exariiin^t'.'
The otTie* coutribat^i to the * Examirier ' (stating the grOSswess
of iftih'isteriail AMseSi the Aftiiidb bf taaimitsAerS^ the tpitiiiy of
fevoutfit^, ahd' thfe general dange* off Spprbachirt^ Miiiy W^ft
Kingf Swiftj AUld occasionally Mttf. Manl^y'.'
t FrotHf af Matrtiser'Jpt however left by hitiii tbfc^iflJtff StU
Essay on learaing, tb& Mlts^'mg curibite pafej^ relsStfc^ tS hirtii
self appears to deserve transcriptioiili! : " t fethiiUb&i riothiftg
farther ift Bfey «ian th^ I ttmd^ Veils': t tlrbSe' Gil^ tkrt of
Warwick for my first hero, and MISA Gm&itii tfeg^ah«*=MbrS§

150 MATTHEW PRIOR.
By Lord BoUngbroke, who notwithstanding the
gross imperfections of his character is aUowed to
have been an accompUshed judge of fine talents, he
was always held in the highest esteem. In a letter
addressed to him in 1713, whUe he was resident at
the court of France, this nobleman pays him the
foUowing compUment : " For God's sake, Matt, hide
the nakedness pf thy country,, and give the best turn
thy fertUe brain wiU furmsh thee with to the blunders
Of thy countrynien,* who are not much better poU-
ficians than the French are poets." — " It is near three
o'clock in the morning. I have been hard at work
aUday, and am not yet enough recovered to bear
much fatigue; excuse therefore the confusedness bf
this scroU, which is only from Harry to Matt, and
not from the Secretary to the Minister."
Soon afterward, the Duke of Shrewsbury went on
a formal embassy to Paris. By Boyer it is said, that
' he refused to be associated with Prior, on account of
1 was big enough for Westminster School. But I had two acci
dents in youth, which hindered me from being quite possessed
with the Muse. . I was bred in a college, where prose was more
in fashion than verse ; and as soon as I had taken my first degree,
I was sent the King's Secretary to the Hague. There I had
enough to dd in studying French and Dutch, and altering ray
Terentian and Virgilian stile into that of articles and conven
tions : so that poetry, which by the bent of my mind migh( have
become the business of my life, was by the happiness of my edu-
eatiqn only the amusement of it ; and in this too, having the pros
pect of some little fortune to be made and friendships to be cul
tivated with the great men, I did not launch much into Satire*
; which (however agreeable, for the present, to the wjriters and
encourager^ of it) does in time do neither pf them goo.d — con
sidering the uncertainty .of fortune, .and the various- changes- of
ministry, an,d, that 'every man. as he resents may punjshin his
turn qf greatness and power." ,
* By spme mistake ofthe Queen's orders, the court of Eraucej
it appears, had been disgusted.

MATTHEW PRIOR. 151
the^meanness of his birth.' It was not, therefore, tiU
his Grace's retum home in the ensuing year, that
the latter was enabled to assume the stUe and dig
nity of Embassador. But, whUe he continued in ap-
^ pearance a private man, he was treated with great
attention by Louis XIV., who pronounced ' his con
duct very agreeable to him^' and M. de Torcy placed
in him his particular confidence.
Prior is represented, by contemporary writers, aS
having united, the elegance of* the courtier with the
erudition of the scholar ahd the fancy of the man of
genius. This representation, in general, may be just ;
yet is it frequently true that they, who have risen
from the lower ranks of Ufe, stiU retain some traces
of thefr humble original. In one particular, this was
strikingly verified in Prior. The same woman, who
could charm the waiter, stUl maintained her dominion
over the embassador. His ' Chloe,' it seems, was a
butcher's wife, a woman in his own original station ;
and, in the height of his promotions, he never for
sook her !
He was next appointed Minister Plenipotentiary
to the Court of France, to negotiate the peace of
Utrecht ; and he remained there upon it's conclusion,
under the character of British Embassador (though
attended with some perplexities and mortifications *)
from August, 1713, tiU some months after the ac
cession of Gteorge I., when he was superseded by
the Earl of Stafr. The state of affafrs was now
* He hints to the Queen, in an unfinished poem, Jthat he had
no service of plate; and from 'the debts, which he was compelled
to contract, and for some time detained to discharge, we may
infer that his remittances were not made with much punc«
duality.

152 MATTHEW PRIOR.
greatly changed at home;' the peace incurred loud
Condemnation, and Prior upon his arrival in London
March SIS, 1715, was arrested by a warrant from the
IJouse of Commons ; shortly after which, he under
went a strict examination before a Comn^ittee of the
Privy CouncU. His poUtical friend Lord BoUngbroke^
foreseeing a storm, had taken shelter in France.
On the tenth of June, Mr. Walpole moved the
House for an impeachment against him on a charge
of high treason, for holding clandestine confejrences
with the French Plenipotentiary ; and on the seven
teenth he was ordered into close custody, no persoa
being admitted to see him without leave from the
Speaker.^ In 1717, an Act of Grace was passed in favour of
those who had opposed the Hanoverian Succession, as
weU as of those who had openly rebeUed against it ;
but Mr. Prior was, by name, excepted from it's ope
ration.! At the close ofthe year, however, he was
discharged out of custody, and retired from aU pubUc
employment. On his release, he rejoiced that he had
never resigned his feUowship, which in his exaltation
he had been censured for retaining, but which he
always said ' he could Uve upon at last.' He had
top correct a view of poUtical contingency, to expect
his party to remain permanently triumphant ; and he
was StUl less disposed to anticipate a revenue from
his rhymes.
* For the detail of this procedure of the parliament, against
both Prior and several other public functionaries of the preced
ing reign, the histories of thp time must be consulted. During
his coiifinement, to while away his * prison-hours/ he wrote
his ' Alma, or the Progress of the Mind.'
t His having anxiously screened Stanley, oq his examination,
is said tp have been the cause of this continued severity. 5

MATTHEW PRIOR. 15$
The severe usage, which he experienced upon this
occasion, probably drew from him the foUowing Unes:
' From public noise and factious strife.
From all ihe busy ills of life.
Take me, my Chipe, to thy breast.
And lull my wearied soul to rest.
For ever in this humble cell
Let thcu and I, my fair one, dwell :
None enter else, but Love ;  and he
Shall b^r the door, and keep the key.
To painted roofs and shining spires,
IJneasy seats of high desires.
Let the unthinking many crowd,
That dare be covetous and proud :
In golden bondage let them wait.
And barter happiness for state.
But oh ! my ^Chlpe, when thy swain
Desires to see a court again, ,
May Heaven ground his destined head
The choicest of it's curses shed '
To sum up all the rage of fate
In the two things I dread and hate,
May'st thou be false, and I be great

. }
it!' J

After his long and harassing pubUc exertions. Prior
was desfrous of spending the remainder of his days
in rural tranquiUity. He was so happy as to suc
ceed in his wish, having found in the retfrement of
DownhaU, in Essex, (as he expressed .himself) ' a
more soUd and innocent satisfaction among the woods
and meadows, than he had enjoyed in the hurry
and tumults of the world, the courts of princes, or
the condycting of foreign negotiations.
• The remnant of his days he safely past.
Nor found they lagg'd too slow, nor flew too fast ;
He made his wish with his estate comply.
Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.'
Having finished his ' Solomon,' a poem ' on the
Vanity pf the World,' his most adnifred performance.

154 MATTHEW PRIOR.
he published by subscription an edition of aU his
poems in one volume foUo ; * and, some time after-
WM-d, formed a design of writing a ' History of his
own Time : ' but he had made Uttle progress in it,
when a Ungering fever put a period to his existence.
He died September 18, 1721, at Wimpole (then a
seat of the Earl of Oxford) near Cambridge, and his
remains were interred in Westminster Abbey, where
a monument was erected to his memory, f
• The price of each copy was two guineas, and the whole
amount was four thousand : to this Lord_ Harley, son of the
Earl of Oxford (to whom he had, invariably, adhered) added
an equal sum for the purchase of DownhaU, which Prior was
to enjoy during his life and Harley after his decease. Swift
obtained many subscriptions for him in England.
t For this purpose he had, as « the last piece of human
vanity,' in his life-time set apart 500/. The inscription was
from the pen of Dr. Robert Friend, Master of Westminster
School. Sui_ Temporis Historiam meditanti
Paulatim obrepens Febris
Operi simul et viteeflum abrupit,
Sept. 18, An. Doot. 1721, JEtat ST.
H, S. E,
Vir Eximius
Serenissimis
Regi GuiiELMo, Reginesque Maksm
In Congressione Foederatonm
Hages Anno 1690 eelebratd ;
Deinde Magnes Britannies Legatis,
Tum iis
Qui anno 1697 Pacem RrswiCKi confecerunt,
Tum iis
Qui apud Gallos annis proximis Legationem ohiSrunt i
Eodem etiam anno {IQQI) in Hibernid
SSCXETARIVS ;
Necnon in utroque HonorabiU Consessu,
Eorum
t^i anno 1700 ordinandis Gomratreii negotiis.

MATTHEW PRIOR. 1S5
He holds a high rank in poetry, by the suffrage
of aU men of taste,, for the deUcacy of his numbers,
the wittiness of his turns, the acuteness of his re*
Quique anno 1711 dirigendis Portorii rehus
Pressidebani,
Commission jjRius ;
Postrembab Anna
Felicissimce memorice ReginS
AdLvDoyicvM XIV, Gallies Regent
Missus anno 1711
De Pace stabiliendd
{Pace etiamnum durante,
Diuque, ut bonijam omnes sperant, duratura)
Cum summd potestate Legatus
MATTHjEUS prior Armiger,
Qui
Hos omnes quibus cumulatus est titulos
Humanitatis, Ingenii, Eruditionis laude
Superavif:
Cui enim nascenti faciles arriserant Muses,
flunc puerum Schola hie Regia perpolivit ;
Juvenem in Collegio Sti. Johannis
Cantabrigia optimis Scientiis instruxit ;
Virem denique auxit et perfecit
Multa cum viris prindpibus consuetudo i
Ita natiis, ita institutus,
A vatum choro avelli nunqtittm potuit ;
Sed solebat. sespe rerum civilium gravitatem <.
Amesniorum literarum studiis condire :
Et dim omne adeb poetices genus
Haud infeliciter tentaret,
Tum in Fabellis concinne lepidique texendis
Mirus Artifex
Neminem habuit parem,
Hcec liberalis animi oblectamenta
Quam nullo illi labore constiterint.
Facile ii perspexSre quibus. usus est amid ;
Apudquos, urbanitatum et leporum plenus.
Cum ad rem qucecunque forte indderat
Apte varie copioseque aliuderet.

158 MATTHEW PRIOR.
marks, and (in one of his perfoiMaaces siorfe p&tti-
cularly) for the force t£ his seritiffifeftts. His stilfe,
likewise, is extremdy pure ; and an afr of ©ligiflality
pervades his sUghtest compositions.
His works, as Df. Johnson remarks, may be dis-
tinctly considered as comprising Tales, Love- Verses,
Occasional Poems, * Alma,* and ' Solomon.' Of these
the first (comprising only four) have obtained general
approbation, being writteri with ^at famiUarity and
great sprightUness ; * in language easy, but not gross,
and in numbers smooth, but without the appearance
of care. They exhibit, however, that incongruous
mixture of Ught, or rather indecent, expressions with
grave and even religious ones, which though so com
mon at the time as perhaps to exclude the charge of
immoraUty, denoted a prevalent deficiency of taste
and refinement. In his * Love- Verses,' he is less
tnterea nihil quessitum, nihil vi expresswn
Videbatur ;
Sed omnis idtrb effluere,
Et quasi jugi efonte qffatim exuherare t
Ita Suos tandem dubios reliquUf
Mssetne in Scriptis Poeta elegantior.
An in convictu Comes jucundior.
* Of his • Thief and Cordelier' Jehngoii gtipflies tbe original
in the following epigram fVomGeefgius Sabiniis, once the friend
of Luther and Melancthou :
De Sacerdote Fmrem consolmte,
Quidam Sacrificus Furem eemdtatus euntem
Hue ubi dat sonteS ectrnificinci mari,
" Ne sis meestui," aii : " Summi aonviM Tonantis
" Jam cum eeelitibus (si rttodo eredky eris,"
Ille gemens, " Si vera mihi solatia prabes^
" Hospes apud Steperos sis mem, mo : " refert,
Sacrifkm centra; " Mihi non corm^iajai est
Ducere f jejtmts hde edo luce mhU'*

MATTHEW PRIOR. 157
h3{^ ',. fou th^ey aipe not dictated by raaturei. or by
passion- They have tha coldness of Cowley without
his, wit,, and. ahou^ in mythological fictions which
e^qit^ no teijderness. Bfrt from this censure the
dramatic dialogue of ' Henry and Emma' (parai-
phrased from the * Nut-browne Mayde ') -must, not
withstanding the harsh verdict of Johnson, be ex
cepted. His ' Occasional Poems' necessarily lost part
of thefr value, as thefr occasions being less remem
bered raised less emotion ; but some of them are pre
served by their inherent exceUence. His paraphrase
on St. Paul's Exhortation, to Charity,* in particular,
is eminently beautifiiL The * Alma' has man^ ad
mfrers, and' was the only piece among his works, of
which Pope said' that * he should wish to have been
the author.' The ' Solpmon ' however is. the composi
tion to which the author himself entrusted theprotec-
tion of his nanie^ and- which he expected succeeding
ages to regard with- veneration. But' though he had
infosed into it much knowlfedge and' much thought,
had often poUshed, it to elegance,^ often dignified it
with splendor,, and: sometimes heightened i it to sub
limity, it unhappUy' wanted the power of engaging
attention and' aUuriug curiosity.
" A survey ofthe. Ufe and writing: of Prior may
exemplify a, sentence,, which he douhtlessj understood
weU when he read' Horace at his unde's^; ' The
vessel long retains the scent, which it ffrst receives.'
In his private relaxation he revived the tavern, and
in his amorous pedantries he exhibited, the college;
but on higher: occasions and nobler subjectsj when
habit was overpowered'by the necessity of reflexion,
he wanted^ not wisdOin as a statesman nor elegance
as a poet." ^" See the Extracts.

158 MATTHEW PRIOR.
After his death, several posthumous poems were
ascribed to him : and in 1740 appeared ' The His
tory of his own Time,' said to have been printed
from his manuscripts ; but it is a performance totally
unworthy of his pen..

EXTRACTS.
CHARITY;

A Paraphrase on 1 Cor, xiii.
• Did sweeter sounds adorn my flowing tongue,
Than ever man pronounced, or angels sung ;
Had I all knowledge, h\iman and divine.
That thought can reach, or science can define;
And had I power to give that knowledge birth.
In all the speeches of the babbling earth :
Did Shadrach's zeal my glowing breast inspire
"To weary tortures, and rejoice in fire ;
Or had I faith like that, which Israel saw.
When -Moses gave them miracles and law:
Yet, gracious Charity ! indulgent guest.
Were not thy power exerted in my breast.
Those speeches would send up unheeded prayer,'
Thait scorn of life would be but wild despair ;
A cymbal's sound were better than my voice,
My faith were form, my eloquence were, noise.
Charity, decent, madest, easy, kind.
Softens the high, and rears the abject mind ;
Knows with just reins and gentle'hand to guide
Betwixt vile shame and arbitrary pride :
Not soon provoked, she easily forgives ;
And much she suSers, as she much believes.
Soft peace she brings wherever she arrives :
She builds our quiet as she forms our lives •
Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even
And opens in each heart a little heaven.
Each other gift, which God on man bestows.
It's proper bound and due restriction knows ;
To one fix'd purpose dedicates it's power
And finishing it's act, exists no more.

MATTHEW PRIOR. 1A9
Thus, in obedience to what Heaven decrees.
Knowledge shall fail and Prophecy shall cease ;
But lasting Charity's more ample sway,
Nor bound by time nor subject to decay,
In happy triumph shall for ever live.
And endless good diffuse and endless praise receive.
As, through the artist's intervening glass..
Our eye observes the distant planets pass,
A little We discbver, but allow
That more remains unseen than art can show :
So, whilst our mind it's knowledge would improve
(It's feeble eye intent on things above)
High, as we may, we lift our reason up.
By faith directed and confirm'd by hope :
Yet we are able only to survey
Dawning of beams, and promises of day ;
Heaven'siiiller effluence mocks our dazzled sight.
Too great it's swiftness, and too strong it's light.
But soon the mediate clouds shall be dispell'd ;
The sun shall soon be face to face beheld
In all his robes, with all his glory on.
Seated sublime on his meridian throne.
Then constant Faith and holy Hope shall die.
One lost in certainty, and one in joy :
Whilst thou, more happy power, fair Charity,
Triumphant sister greater of the three,
Thy o£Sce and thy nature still the same.
Lasting thy lamp and unconsumed thy flame,
Shalt still survive —
Shalt stand before the host of heaven confest.
For ever blessing, and for ever blest.'

from the Preface to ' Solomon on the Vanity of
the World:
• It is hard for a man to speak of himself with
any tolerable satisfaction or success. He can be more
pleased in blaming himself, than in reading a satfre
made on him by another : and though he may justly
desfre that a friend should praise him ; yet, if he

160 MATTHEW PRIOR.
makes his own panegyric, he wiU get very few to
read it. It is harder for him to' speak of his own.
writings. An auUior is in the condition of a culprit ;
the pubUc are his judges : by aUowing too much,
and condescending too far,, he may injure his own
cause, and become a kind oi felo de se; and, by
pleading and asserting too boldly, he may displease
the court that sits upon him. His apology may only
heighten his accusation. I would avoid these ex
tremes : and though, I grant, it would not be very
civil to trouble the reader with a- long preface before
he enters upon an indifferent poem ; I would say
something to persuade him to take it as it isj or to
excuse it for not being better.
* The noble images and reflejdons, the profound
reasonings upon human actions and exceUent pre
cepts for the government of life, which are found in
the Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and other books com
monly attributed to Solomon, afford subjects for
finer poems in every kind, than have, I think, as
yet appeared in the Greek, Latin, or any modem
language : how far they were verse in thefr original,
is a dissertation not to be entered into at present.
' But of this great treasure, which Ues heaped up
together in a confused magnificence above all order,
I had a mind to coUect and digest such observations
and apophthegms, as most particularly tend to the
proof of that great assertion, laid down in the be
ginning- of the Ebdesiastes; " AU is vanity.''
'Upon the subject thus chosen, such variouf
images present themselves to a writer's mind, thathe
must find fr easier to judge what should be rejected^
than- what ought to be received. The difficulty Ues
in drawing and: disposiiag, or (as the paintersr terrti' it)
xa, groapingj. sucfr a multitude of different' object^

MATTHEW PRIOR. 161
preserving stUl the justice and conformity of stUe
and colouring, the " simplex duntaxat et unum,"
which Horace prescribes, as requisite to make the
whole picture beautiful and perfect.
' As precept, however true in theory, or useful in
practice, would be but dry and tedious in verse, espe
ciaUy if the recital be long, I found: it necessary to
form some story, and give a kind of body to the
poem. Under what species it maybe comprehended,
whether DidasfcaUc or Heroic, I leave to the judge
ment of the critics; desiring them to be favourable
in thefr censure, and not soUcitous what the poem is
caUed, provided it may be iaccepted.
' The chief personage, or character, in the epic is
always proportioned to the design of the work, to
carry on the narration and the moral. Homer in
tended to show us, in his ' lUad,' that dissensions
among "great men obstruct the execution of the
noblest enterprises, and tend to. the ruin of a state
or a kingdom. ¦ His AchiUes, therefore, is haughty
and compassionate, impatient of any restraint by
laws, and arrogant in arms. In his 'Odyssey,', the
same poet endeavours to explain, that the hardest
difficulties may be overcome by labour, and our for
tune restored after the severest afflictions. Ulysses,
therefore, is vaUant, virtuous, and patient. VfrgU's
design, was to.teU us how, from a smaU colony esta
bUshed hy the Trojans in Italy, the Roman empfre
rose ; and from what ancient famiUes Augustus, who
was his prince and patron, descended. His hero,
therefore, was to fight his way to the throne, stiU
distinguished and protected by the favour of the
gods. The poet to this end takes off from the vices
VOL. V. M .

162 MATTHEW PRIOR.
of AchUles, and adds to the virtues of Ulysife^;
from both perfecting a character proper for his Work.
' As VfrgU copied after Homer, other epic poets
have copied after thern both. Tasso's ' Giefusalemme
* Liberata ' is dfrectly Troy town sacked ; with this
difference oidy, that the two chief characters in
Homer, which the Latin poet had joined in one, the
ItaUan has separated in his Godfrey and Rinaldo :
but he makes them both carry on his Work with very
great success. Ronsard's 'Franci'ade ' (incomparably
good as far As it goes) is again VirgU's AEHeis. His
hero comes frotti a foreign country, settles a colony^
and lays the foundation of a future empfre. I in
stance these, as the greatest ItaUan and French
poets in the tepic. In our language, Spenser has not
contented himself with this submissive manner of
imitation : he launches Out into very flowery paths,
which stUl seem to conduct him into one great road.
His ' Faery Queen,' (had it been finished, must have
ended ih the account which every knight was to give
of his adventures, and in the accumulated praises Pf
his heroine Gloriana. The whole WoUld have been
an heroic poem, but in another cast and figtire than
any that ever had been written before. Yet it is
observable,, that every hero (as far as we can judge
hf the books stUl remamhlg) bears his distinguished
character, and represents some particular virtue con-
dudye to the whole design.'

163

JOHN CHUKCHILL,
DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH.*

[1650^1722,]

John CHURCHILL, who (according to the
prediction of the Prince De Vaudemont) Uved to
attain the highest pitch of glory, to which a subject
could be exalted, was the son of Sir Winston Chur-
chUl of Dorsetshfre. His father had suffered severely
during the civU wars for his loyalty to Charles I. ;
so that he was obUged to Uve privately with his lady,
the daughter of Sfr John Drake of Ashe in Devon-
shfre, at whose seat ChurchiU was bom June SI4,
1650. By a clergyman in the neighbourhood he was in
structed in the first prindples of Uterature ; and he
is recorded by Knight, in his ' Life of Dean Colet,'
among the eminent scholars of St. Paul's School: f
?Authorities. Ledyard's Life ofthe Duke qf Marl-
^borough ; Biographia Britannica; and Smollett's History of

t The ft)llowing Note occurs in p. 483 ofthe Catalogue of
the Library of St, Paul's, Under the article ' Vegetius De Re

.5' From this very book John Churchill scholar of this school,
afterward the celebrated Duke of Mariborough, first learned
M 2

164 JOHN CHURCHILL,
but his father, upon the Restoration, being appointed
to some considerable posts under Charles IL, judged
it prudent to introduce him early at court, where
from his handsome person and graceful behaviour
he was at the age of twelve made page of honour
to the Duke of York. The continued kindness of
his patron was secured by the disgraceful interven
tion of his sister, the mistress of that Prince. From
the Duchess of Cleveland, the favourite of Charles II.,
he received at a subsequent period a present of
5000/., with which he immediately purchased an
annuity for Ufe.
During the first Dutch war, about the year 1666,
he was presented with a pafr of colours in the guards,'
and subsequently obtained leave to go to Tangier,
then besieged by the Moors ; where he for some time
cultivated attentively the science of arms, and was
personaUy engaged in several skirmishes with the
enemy. Upon his retum to England, he appeared
constantly at court, and was greatly respected by
both the royal brothers.
In 1672, the Duke of Monmouth commanding a
body of EngUsh auxiUaries in the service of France,
Mr. ChurchiU attended him, and was soon afterward
made a Captain of Grenadiers in his Grace's own
regiment. He shared in aU the actions of that cele
brated campaign against the Dutch: and at the siege
of Nimeguen, in particular, he so much distinguished
himself, that he was noticed by Turenne himself, and
the elements of the art of war ; as was told me, George North
[of Codicote] on St. Paul's Day 1724-5, by an old clergy
man, who said • he was a contemporary scholar, was then well
acquainted with him, and frequently saw him read it.' This
I testify to be true. G. North."

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 16S
received from him the name of ' the handsome
Ei^Ushman;' an appeUation, by. which he was
known in the French army for many years. Another
circumstance, while he was upon the same service,
rendered this a title of honour; for a French Lieu
tenant Colonel having deserted a pass upon the
approach of a Dutch detachment, Turenne betted a
wager, that dangerous as the , enterprise . was, the
' Handsome EngUshman would retake it with half
the number of men with which the other had lost it
— and won.'
The next year, he signaUsed himself so greatiy
by his intrepidity at the reduction of Maestricht,
that Louis XIV. pubUcly thanked him for his be
haviour at the head of the Une, and assured him
that .'he would acquaint his Sovere^n with it:'
the Duke of Monmouth Ukewise, on his return, ac
knowledged, ' how much he had been indebted to
ChurchiU's bravery.' .
These honourable testimonies procured for him,
from Charles II., the rank of Lieutenant Colonel;
and from the. Duke of York, the appointment of
G^entleman of his Bedchamber, and soon afterward
that of Master of the Robes. ObUged to pass his days
at court, he behaved, with the utmost cfrcumspection
in the factious times that ensued. In the beginning
of the year 1679, when the Duke was constrained to
retire to the Low Countries, Colonel ChurchiU ac
companied him throughout aU his peregrinations, tiU
he was again suffered to reside in London. WhUe
he was in attendance upon his Grace in Scotland, he
had a regiment of dragoons given him; and in 1681
he successfuUy paid his addresses to Sarah, daughter

166 JOHN CHURCHILL,
of Richard Jennings, Esq. of Sandridge in Hert-
fordshfre, one of the mPst accomplished ladies of
the court, and then in the service of the Princess,
afterward Queen Anne.
The first use made by his Royal Highness of his
interest, on returning to court, was to obtain a
peerage for his favourite, who by letters patent dated
December 1, 1682, was created Baron ChurchiU
of Aymouth in Scotland, and appointed Colonel of
the thfrd troop of guards.*
At the commencement of the new reign, he was
sent Embassador to France, to notify the accession
of James II. ; and in the May foUowing was created
a Peer of England, by the title of Baron ChurchUl,
of Sandridge. In June, he was ordered into the w^t,
to suppress the rebeUion of Monmouth ; and within a
month he accompUshed his object, having taken the
Duke himself prisoner. He quickly discerned, how
ever, the bad effects of this victory upon the royal
mind ; as it confirmed his M^'esty in an opinion, that
by means of a standing army the reUgion and govern
ment of England might easUy be subverted. How far
Lord ChurchUl sanctioned, or opposed, this criminal
project, cannot perhaps now be ascertained. He does
not, indeed, appear to have been guUty of any mean
compUances, or to have had any concern in executing
the violences of that unhappy reign: on the contraryi
as Bishop Burnet informs us, " he very pmdently
• In this year atso, upon a shipwreck suffered by the Duke
of York on his passage to Scotland, he received a signal proof
pf his master's attachment in his solicitude to save him, while a
great part of the crew (120 persons, including several persons
6f quality) were left to perish.

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 167
declined meddling much in business, spoke Uttle
except when Ms advice was asked, and then always
recommended moderate measures." It is even said,
he declared very early to Lord Galway, that ' if his
master attempted to overturn the EstabUshed ReUgion,
he would leave his service ;' and that he signed the
Memorial transmitted to the Prince and Princess of
Orange, by which they were invited to rescue this
nation from popery and slavery. It is certain, how
ever, that he continued in the confidence of James II.,
after the Prince had landed on the fifth of November,*
1688 ; attended him, at the head of a brigade of
5000 men, when he marched against his son^in4aw ;
and though the Eari of Feversham, suspecting his
indinations, advised the King to seize him, was
through his Majesty's personal regard left whoUy at
Uberty to go over to the Prince. Of this freedom he
avaUed himself, by joining him at Axmfrister, but
without betraying any post or carrying off any troops.
That he took this step with great concern, appears
from the foUowing letter, which he left behind hiini,
addressed to his deserted master :
" SIR,
*' Since men are seldom suspected of §inq?rity^
• Of this date, as coincident with that of the Gunpowder
Plot, and equally with it commemorated in our National Liturgy,
Bishop Watson in his ' Apology for the Bible' ingeniously
avails himself, to justify the double reason assigned m Sc^i^ure
for the sanctification of the Sabb^tb (viz. one, ' thajt on tbat
day God rested from the work of creation,' Exod. xx. ] 1 ; and
the other, ' that on .that day God had given them rest from the
servitude of Egypt,' Deut, v. 15.) which had been criminated
by his .v,ulgafr anid violent adversary, as implying acontradif^iop.

168 JOHN CHURCHILL,
when they act contrary to thefr interests; and though
my dutiful behaviour to your Majesty in the worst
of times, for which I acknowledge my poor services
much overpaid, may not be sufficient to incUne you
to a charitable interpretation of my actions ; yet I
hope the great advantage I enjoy under your Majesty,
which I can never expect in any other change of
gbverninent, may reasonably convince your Majesty
and the world that I was actuated by a higher prin^
ciple, when I offered that violence to my inclination
and interest, as to desert your Majesty at a time
Wheh your affafrs seem to chaUenge the strictest
obedience from aU your subjects ; much more from
one, who Uves under the greatest obUgations imagi
nable tb your Majesty. This, Sir, could proceed
from nothing but the inviolable dictates of my con
science, and a necessary concern for my reUgion,
which no good man can oppose, and with which I
am instmcted nothing ought to come in competition; v
" Heaven knows, with what partiaUty my dutiful
opinion of your Majesty has hitherto represented
those unhappy designs, which inconsiderate and self-
interested men have framed against your Majesty's
true interest and the Protestant ReUgion ; but, as I
can no longer join with such to give a pretence by
conquest to bring ^hem to effect, so I wUl always
with the hazard of my Ufe and fortune, so much
your Majesty's due, endeavour to preserve your royal
person and lawful right with aU the tender concern
and dutiful respect, that becomes
" Your Majesty's, &c."
Lord ChurchUl was graciously received by the

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 169
Pririce of Orange : and through his Lordship's sdU-
citations principaUy, Prince George of Denmark is
supposed to have embraced the same party ; as his
consort, the Princess Anne, did soon afterward,, by
the advice of Lady ChurchUl. In this critical con
juncture, he was entrusted by his new employer first
to re-assemble his troop of guards in London, and
subsequently to reduce some lately-raised regiments
and to new-model the army ; for which purpose, he
received the rank of Lieutenant General.
Lord ChurchiU was, Ukewise, one of the Peers, who
voted that ' the throne was vacant ;' and upon the
accession of WUUam and Mary was sworn of thefr
Privy CouncU, appointed one of the Gentlemen of
the Bedchamber to his Majesty, and raised to the
dignity of Earl of Marlborough in the county of
WUts. Soon after the coronation he was made Com-^
mander in Chief of the EngUsh forces sent over to
HoUand,* commanded at the battle of Walcourt
fought in August 1689, and exhibited such, extra
ordinary proofs of miUtary skUl during the engage
ment, that the Prince of Waldeck declared to King
WUUam, ' he saw more into the art of war in a
day, than sojcne generals in many years.'
The foUowing year James having withdrawn him
self from Ireland, Marlborough, who would never
appear in the field against that Monarch, accepted
the command of a body of EngUsh forces, destined
to act in conjunction with the G^erman and Dutch
auxiUaries in reducing Cork and some other places
* King William commanded, this year, in Ireland.

170 John churchill,
of importance; in aU which he so highly distinguished
himself that his royal master observed, upon his
return to court, ' he knew no man so fit for a Gene
ral, who had seen so few campaigns.' The year
foUowing he passed with WUUam on the Contment,
and distinguished his sagacity by detecting the
enemy's design of besieging Mons, in which the
Dutch deputies were deceived.
AU these services, however, did not prevent his
being suddenly dis^aced in 1692. Having, as Lord
of the Bedchamber in waiting, introduced Lord
George HamUton at court, he was foUowed to his
own house by that nobleman with the laconic mesr
sage, ' that the King had no farther occasion fcr
his services." The cause of this dismissal is not,
even at present, certainly known ; but it is supposed
to have proceeded from his attachment to the in
terest of the Princess Anne, whom thefr Majesties
wished to retain in a state of dependence upon themr-
selves ; and for whom, in opposition to that wish, he
and his Countess had by thefr joint interest procured
fiwm Parliament a settlement of 50,0001. per ann.
This unexpected blow was foUowed by an event
stUl more extraordinary : the Earl and several otho:
noblemen, upon a false charge of high treason, wm
committed to the Tower. The accusation was
grounded upon a paper, said to have been an assodao
tion entered into by these Peers against the govern'
ment: but, upon an examination of the documeB*'
and other evidences at the CouncU Board, the whdfi
was asserted to be a forgery ; the suspected Lords
were released, and their false accusers were set in
the piUoiy and puMidy whipped.

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 171
Though the affafr however was enveloped in mystery
at the time, from Macpherson's ' State Papers' it ap
pears highly probable, that there reaUy existed a
coBPespondence between Marlborough and his con
nexions on one part, and the exUed King on the
other, which had for it's object a counter-revolution :
that the Princess Anne had been influenced by her
favourite, the Countess of Marlborough, to feel sin
cere compunction for her hostiUty toward her father,
and to entreat by letter his forgiveness ; and, lastly,
that ChurchUl had betrayed to James the secret coun
cUs of King WUUam, and requested instructions how he
might best promote his service. It is even said that,
by a base act of treachery to his country, he ' ap
prised the Ex-monarch in 1694 of a design formed
to attack the harbour of Brest, and to destroy the
ships of war lying in that port.'
Upon the death of Queen Mary, when the in
terests of the two courts were brought to a better
^eement, WiUiam recaUed the Earl of Marlborough
to his Privy CouncU; and in 1698 appointed him
governor to the Duke of Gloucester, saying, " Make
him but what you are, and my nephew wiU be aU I
wish to see him." This important duty the Earl
discharged in a manner equally satisfactory to the
Soverdgn and the nation, and sanguine hopes
were conceived of his royal pupU ; when in 1700 he
was seized with a fever, occasioned by over-heating
himself on his birthday, which in five days earned
him off, in the eleventh year of his age. Being the
last surviving child of the Princess Anne, who had
previously lost three others, the crown upon her
death by the Act of Succession descended to the
iUustrious house of Hanover.
7

172 JOHN CHURCHILL,
, Soon afterWard, the Earl of Marlborough was
appointed Commander in Chief of the British forces
in HoUand, and Embassador Extraordinary to , the
States General : this was the last mark of honour
which he received from King WilUam, if we except
the recommending of him to the Princess Anne,isas
' the person most proper to be entrusted with, the
command of an army destined to protect the Uberty
of Europe.'
In March 1702, upon the accession of the new
Sovereign, he was elected Knight of the Garter;
declared Captain General of aU her Majesty's forces,
and sent a second time to the Hague, with the same
diplomatic character as before. The States concurred
with him in aU his proposals, and made him Captain
General of thefr forces, with an appointment of one
hundred thousand florins per ann.
On his return to England, he found the Queen's
councU afready divided ; some wishing to carry. on
the war merely as auxiUaries, others to declare im
mediately against France and Spain as principals.
The Earl of Marlborough, joining with the latter,
enabled them to carry thefr point.
He now proceeded to take upon himself the. com
mand, having previously secured an essential point,
in procuring the appointment of his son-in-law
Godolphin to the head of the Treasury, and per-
ceiving that the States were made uneasy by the
places which the enemy held on the frontiers, began
with reducing them. A smgle campaign made him
master of the castles of Gravenbroeck and Waerts;
the towns of Venlo, Ruremond, and Stevenswaert;
and the city and citadd of Liege, which last he
entered sword in hand.
1

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. m
These advantages, considerable as they were ac
knowledged to be by the States, were Ukely to have
beeii of a very short duration ; for on the fourth of
November he was taken prisoner, in his passage by
water, by a smaU party of thfrty men from the gar
rison at Gueldres : but offering, with great presence
of mind, to the commanding officer an old pass, which
had been given to his brother General ChurchiU, he
was suffered to proceed, and arriving safe at the
Hague reUeved his friends from thefr consternation.
The winter now approaching, he embarked for
England, received the thanks of the House of Com
mons, and was by her Majesty created Marquis of
Blandford and Duke of Marlborough. She, like
wise, added a pension of 5000/. per ann. out of the
Post Office during her own life; and by a message to
the Lower House signified her desire, that ' they
would extend the pension, in the same manner as she
had done the title, to him and his hefrs male.' With
this, however, the Commons refosed to comply ; ap
plauding indeed her Majesty's manner of rewarding
pubUc services, but declaring thefr determination not
to create such a precedent for aUenating the revenue
of the crown. During his stay in England, he carried
a motion for augmenting the troops abroad by taking
10,000 foreign soldiers into British pay.
In February 1703, he was on the point of return
ing to HoUand, when his only son, the Marquis of
Blandford, died at Cambridge at the age of eighteen.
But this afflictive event did hot long retard his
journey : he arrived at the Hague on the seventeenth
of March.
The French had a great army this year in Flanders,

174 JOHN CHURCHILL,
iiji the Low Cou^tries, and in that part of Gernmny
which the Elector of Cologne had surrendered into
thefr hands, and prodigious preparations had been
made under thefr most experienced commandei%
but the vigilance and activity of the EngUsh General
baffled them aU; and after forcing Bonne, Hayj Lini'
burgh, and Gueldres, he returned home in October.
In the beginning of the foUowing January (1704)
by desfre of the States General he passed over ta
the Hague, and having explained to the Grand Pen*
sionary the necessity of attempting something for the
reUef of the Emperor Charles VL, whose affafrs at
this time were in the utmost distress, returned to
England on the fourteenth of February. In Aprils
such was his activity, he re-embarked for HoUand;
and having adjusted the necessary measures, begali
his march toward the heart of Germany, unexpectt
edly made his appearance before the strong entrench-
ments of the enemy at Schellent)urg defended by
20,000 men, and after an obstinate engagemeW
entfrely put them to flight. Upon this occasion, the
Emperor addressed to him a letter written with his
own hand, acknowledging his great services, and
offering him the title of a Prince of the Empire,
which however he decUned, tUl commanded by his
own Sovereign to accept it.
With a view of improving his success, he led the
confederate army within a league of Augsburg, and
by cutting off the communication of the Elector of
Bavaria with his dominions, had actuaUy compelled
that Prince to agree to sign a treaty of peace, when
he received the news that ' Marshal TaUard at the
head of the French army was on the point of joining

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 17S
him.* This change of cfrcumstance brought on the
celebrated battle of Hochstedt.* It was fought on
thelhfrteenth of August, 1704, and ended in a com
plete victory on the part of the alUes. More than
lOjOOO of the GaUo-Bavarian army were kiUed
in the aetionj nearly an equal number wounded,
or drpwned in the Danube ; and Marshal TaUard, the
French Commander in Chief, who had lost his only
son in the conflict, with seven Generals, 1,200 other
officers, and 13,000 of his foUowers taken prisoners.
A hundred pieces of cannon, 24i mortars, 129 co
lours, 171 standards, 17 pair of kettle drums, 3,600
tents, 34 coaches, 300 mules laden with provisions,
ammunition, and baggage, two bridges of boats, and
fifteen barrels and eight casks of silver, composed
the spoUs of the day. But, what is stlU more re
markable, the victors lost only 4,500 men kiUed,
and about 8,000 wounded or taken prisoners.
Continuing his pursuit, he now forced the French
to repass the Rhine. Landau was taken, and the
enemy trembled for thefr own safety. He paid a
visit, also, to BerUn, to soUcit that 8,000 Prussians
might be sent into Italy ; and rapidly negotiated a
suspension of the disputes between the King of
Prussia and the Dutch, by which he gained the good
wiU of both parties. On the fourteenth of December,
he arrived in England, bringing over with him Mar
shal TaUard, and twenty six other officers of dis
tinction, with the colours of the enemy ; which, by
* This battle is, generally, stiled in history ' "The Battle of
Blenheim,' from the proximity of that village to the field of
action. It's result was, the preservation ofthe Empire, and
the Subjugation of the Electorate of BaVaria.

lYS JOHN CHURCHILL,
her Majesty's dfrection, were hung up in Westmin
ster HaU.
The highest marks of esteem were now showered
•upon him from aU quarters. He received the
solemn thanks of both Houses of ParUament;*
the Commons addressed her Majesty to perpetuate
the memory of this victory, by granting Wood?
stock with the Hundred of Wotton to hun, and
his heirs for ever : f and the ComptroUer. of her
* This honour was conferred upon him six times in the course
of his military career. The Duke of Wellington can boast
a still prouder series of national acknowledgements.
f This was confirmed by a subsequent Act containing this re-
markable clause, " that they should be held by the Duke and
his heirs, on condition of tendering to the Queen, her heirs and
successors, on the second of August every year for ever, at the
castle of Windsor, a standard with three feurs de lys, the arm!
of France, painted thereon."
Upon this victory, likewise, Addison wrote his • Campaign;,'
which, as Voltaire (no great English critic, indeed) has ob.
served, will survive the palace of Blenheim. One of it's pas;
sages has often been quoted, with deserved admiration :
' 'Twas then great Marlbro's mighty soul was proved,'
That in the shock of charging hosts unmoved, •*
Amidst confusion, horror, and despair .'
Examined all the dreadful scenes of war ;
In peaceful thought the field of death survey'd,
To fainting squadrons sent the timely aid.
Inspired repulsed battalions to engage.
And taught the doubtful battle where to rage.
So when an Angel by divine command
With rising tempests shakes a guilty land.
Such as of late o'er pale Britannia past,
Calm and serene he drives the furious blast;
And, pleased th' Almighty's orders to perform.
Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.'
Addison's excellent mottoes, likewise, may now appropri-

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 177
Majesty's Works was ordered to buUd a magnificent
palace upon his new domain, caUed Blenheim House,
which stiU stands a proud memorial at once of in
dividual prowess and national gratitude. Medals,
also, were stmck to perpetuate the memory of the
victory. The next year, 1705, he passed again into Hol
land, with the design of forwarding some magnifi
cent schemes, which he had projected during the
winter. But though he reUeved Liege, retook Hay,
and forced the French Unes (defended by 76,000^
men, under the Elector of Bavaria and Marshal VU-
lerOy) before Tfrlemont, which were deemed impreg
nable; from some impediments thrown in his way by
the aUies, he faUed in effecting his principal objects.
The season for action being over, he made a tour
to the courts of Vienna, BerUn, and Hanover. No
man, it has been observed, ever displayed happier
powers in concUiating different tempers and inte
rests ; to which a perfect command of himself, and
an habitual practice of aU the arts of good-breeding,
greatly contributed. At the first of these, he ac-
ately be cited, with reference to England and her illustrious
General :
Omnis in hoc uno variis discordia cessit
Ordinibus; leetatur Eques, plaudifque Senator,
Votaque Patricio certant Plebeia favori,
(CI.AUD. de Laud. Stilic;,}
Esse aliquam in terris gentem quee sua impensd, suo labore ac
periculo, bella gerat pro libertate aliorum. Nee hoc finitimis,
aut propinques vidnitatis hominibus, aut terris continenti junctis
presstet : maria trajidat; ne quod toto orbe terrarum iryustum
imperium sit, et ubique jus, fas, lex poientissima sint.
(liiv. Hist, xxxiii.)
VOL. V. N

178 JOHN CHURCHILL,
quired the entfre confidence of the new Emperor^
Joseph I., who had presented him with the Principa-
Uty of Mindelheim ; at the second, he renewed the
contract for the Prussian forces ; and, at the last, ' he
restored perfect harmony, and adjusted every thing
to the Elector's satisfaction. He then returned to
the Hague, and about the close of the year arrived
safe in England.
In the foUowing campaign, after several inferior
advantages, he gained a complete victory on the
twelfth of May (being Whitsunday) over the Duke
of Bavaria and Marshal ViUeroy, at the viUage of
RamiUes. In the course of this action, he was twice
in the utmost danger ; once by a fall from his horse,
and a second time by a cannon-shot, which took off
the head of Colonel Bingfield, as he was holding the
stirrup for his Grace to remount.
The two armies, previously to the engagement,
consisted nearly of 60,000 men each. This action,
howeyer, which cost the alUes only 2,500 men, while
the enemy sustained a loss of 8,000 kiUed, 4,000
wounded, and 6,000 taken prisoners, completely
destroyed their equaUty of numbers.
The advantages of this triumph were so judiciously
improved by his vigUance and activity, that Louvain,
Bmssels, MechUn, and even Ghent and Bruges sub'
mitted to Charles III. without a stroke ; and Oude-
jiard surrendered upon the first summons. The city
of Antwerp foUowed the example. He subsequently
reduced the towns of Ostend, Menin, Dendermonde,
and Aeth. Brabant and Flanders were recovered,
and had the Dutch supported the conqueror, he
might have invested the capital of France.
Upon his arrival in London, though there was a

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. lid
party now formed against him at court,' his great ser
vices, and the personal esteem entertained for him
by the Queen herself, procured him universally a
good reception. The two Houses of ParUament not
only voted him their thanks, but also addressed her
Majesty for leave to bring in a biU, to settle his
titles upon the male and female issue of his daugh
ters; and in extension of their request, Blenheim
House with the Manor of Woodstock was entaUed in
the same manner with thCvpersonal honours.*
Two days afterward, the standards and colours
taken, at RamiUes were carried, in state through the
city, in order to be hung up in GuUdhaU ; and on the
last day of the year, a day appointed for a general
thanksgiving, her Majesty went in state to St.
Paul's.! He next paid a visit to Charles XII. of Sweden,
at that time in Saxony ; . and, though his reception
was cold and reserved, he quickly discovered that
the projects of that Prince did not interfere with
those of the confederated powers.
The campaign of the year 1707, frpm the tar
diness of the aUies and the talents of his anta
gonist General, the celebrated Duke of Vendome,
proved comparatively barren of trophies. Nor did
things go on more to his satisfaction at home.
The Queen had a female favourite, who, was on the
. * Shortly afterward likewiscj the grant of the pension of
6,000/, per ann, from the Post Office, which had been refused
by a preceding parliament, was continued in conformity to her
Majesty's wishes.
f This, it may be remarked as a singular occurrence, was the
second thanksgiving within the year.
N 2

180 JOHN CHURCHILL,
point of supplanting his Du,chess ; and her ear was
open to tbe insinuations of a statesman, who was xio
friend to his interests. AU this, however, he bore
with a degree of phUosophical firmness, though he
distinctly perceived tp what it tended ; and passed
into HoUand, as usual, early in the spring of the
year 1703.
During the ensuing campaign the French, under
the Duke of Vendome and the Princes of the Blood,
having marched to the. banks of the Scheldt, Marl-;
borough in conjunction with Prince Eugene passed
that river in thefr sight,, and on the eleventh of
July defeated thefr whole army at Oudenard with
conaparatively Uttk' loss. Lisle^ the bulwark of
the French harrier,, was invested ; and though the
enemy by a new effort interrupted the communica^
tion: with HoUand, it was dextrously re-opened by
the Duke, and the necessary convoys reached his
casa^ in safety. The. French, who marched with all
theur forces to the reUfdf of the place, arrived only in
time to be spectators^ of it's faU. He then re-crossedt
the Scheldt, relieved Brussels, which was besieged hy
the Elector of Bavaria, and in the midst of very
severe weather compeUed Ghent to surrender. The.
French Monarch now thought fit, in the begimnug
of 1709, to set on foot a negotiation for peaee» Upora
this occasion, exchanging the sword for the pen, he'
was appointed Plenipotentiary on the part of Eng
land ; which not a Uttle contributed to the enemy's
disappointment, by defeating aU thefr projects.
In the campaign of I709, the French army was,
commanded by Marshal VUlars; of whom Lewis
XIV. sanguinely pronounced, " VUlars was never con-

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 181
quered." It remained for the siege of Toumay, and
the field of Malplaquet, to convince hini that VUlars
was not invincible.
Tournay surrendered on the thfrtieth of July, and
on the eleventh of September foUowing was fought
the battle of (Blaregnies, or) Malplaquet. In this
engagement the aUies were commanded by the Duke
of Marlborough and Prince Eugene, and the French
by their celebrated Marshals, VUlars and Boufflers.
Each army consisted of about 100,000 of the best
troops ever seen in Europe ; and after a most obsi-
nate conffict, the aUies penetrated the entrenchments
of the enemy, and compeUed them to retreat : biit
the victory was dearly purchased at the price of
20,000 men.
On his Grace's retum home, though her Majesty,
with an apparent anxiety to show him every
mark of royal kindness, appPinted him Lord Lieute
nant and Custos Rotuloram of the county of Ox
ford, he perceived that foreign intrigues were daUy
gaining ground. The affafr of Dr. SachevereU had
thrown the nation into a ferment ; ahd the Queen
had taken such a dislike to his Duchess, that she
seldom appeared at court-
In the beginning of the year 1710, the French
proposed a new negotiation, commonly distinguished
by the title of the ' Treaty of Gertruydenberg.'
Upon this occasion, Marlborough at the request of
the House of Commons was again sent to the
Hagjie, where he met Prince Eugene, and soon af
terward set out with him for the army, then as
sembled in the ndghbourhood of Tournay. But not
withstanding a successful campaign, in which the
Duke by the capture of Douay, Bethune, St. Venant,
1

182 JOHN CHURCHILL,
and Afr opened himself a passage into the heart of
France, he found on his return his interest stUl more
rapidly decUning, and his services whoUy disregarded.
The negotiations for peace were carried on during a
great part of the summer ; but in July they broke
off: the Dutch insisting, that ' the French Monarch
should compel his grandson PhiUp to cede the throne
of Spain to Charles III.,' and the French utterly re
fusing to listen to the proposition.
In August, the Queen began the great' change in
her ministry, by removing Sunderland from the Se
cretaryship of State, and Godolphin from the head
of the Treasury.
Upon the meeting of parUament, no "notice was
taken in the addresses of his Grace's recent victoriies;
an attempt, indeed, was made to procure him the
thanks of the House of Peers, but it was strenuously
opposed by the Duke of Argyle. He was kindly re-
ceived, however, by the Queen, who seemed desirous
that he should continue upon good terms with her
new ministry ; but, as that was thought impractica
ble, it was daUy expected that he would lay^" down
his commission. This he did not do : he only car
ried the golden key, the ensign of his wife's dignity;
to the Queen, and resigned aU her employments.
He then cahnly proceeded to concert the neces
sary meastires for the ensuing spring with those
whom he knew to be his private enemies; and
treated aU parties with the utmost candor and
respect. An exterior civUity (in court-language, a good un
derstanding) being thus estabUshed between them, he
went over to the Hague, to prepare for what he
knew would be his last campaign. He exerted him.

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 18S
self, indeed, during it's whole continuance in an un
common manner, and with his accustomed success.
Among other exploits, he entered the Unes of Mar
shal ViUars, who had boasted that ' they were im
pregnable,' without losing a man ; and in sight of a
superior French army reduced the strong fortress of
Bouchain, making it's garrison of 60,000 men pri
soners of war.
Upon his retum, he interchanged visits with the
ministry ; but he did not attend the CouncU Board,
because a negotiation for peace was then on the carpet,
upon a basis which he by no means approved.
In the audience which he had at his arrival, he
told her Majesty that ' as he could not concur in the
measures of those who dfrected her councUs, so he
would not distract them by a fhiitless opposition : '
yet, finding himself calumniated in the House of
Lords with the imputation of having protracted the
war, he vindicated his character with great dignity
and spirit ; patheticaUy appealing to his royal mistress,
then present incognita, for the falsehood of the
charge ; and declaring that ' he was as much for
peace as any man, provided it were such a peace as
might reasonably be expected from a War undertaken
on just motives, and carried on with uninterrupted
success.' This speech, which produced a powerful effect upon
that august assembly, and probably made some im
pression on the Queen herself, gave such an edge
to the resentment of his enemies, that they resolved
at aU events to remove him from his high office. To give.
some colour to thefr hostUity,.an inqufry was promoted
in the House of Commons, tending to fix a deep stain

18* JOHN CHURCHILL,
upon his character, by implying that he had pocketed
large sums of the pubUc money. A question to this
purport having been carried, her Majesty, by a letter
conceived in very obscure terms, acquainted him that
^ she had no farther occasion for his services,' and dis-
'Hiissed him from aU his employments.
Thus was discharged from the service of his country
a General, who (according to Voltafre) did France as
jnuch mischief by his understanding as by his arms,
was at St. James' a perfect courtier, the head of a party
in parUamept, and in foreign countries the most able
negotiator of his time. His address, as we are as
sured by Fagel (Secretary to the States General) was
such, that though thefr High Mightinesses had fre^
quently resolved to oppose whatever he should lay
before them, he invariably subdued thefr purpose.*
From this time forward, he was exposed to q, most
painftil persecution. On one hand, he was attacked
by the clamors of the populace, and the Ucentious-
* A most remarkable instance of his Grace's penetration oc.
curred in his mission, above mentioned, to tlie court of Swedenl
Apprehensive that Charles XII. would take part with France in or
der to depress the House of Austria, the allies despatched Marl
borough to fathom that Prince's intentions. Orj his intrpdfttjtion,
after telling his Majesty that ' he should be happy to learn under his
tuition what he yet wanted to know in the art of war,' he turned
his discourse upon the existing state of Europe, fixing his eyes
attentively on Charles throughout the whole interview : and find
ing that as he spoke of the victories or the reverses ofthe allies,
his IVJajesty's countenance was alternately lighted up or over
cast, and that his countenance constantly kindled at the very
mention of the Czar of Muscovy, of which country a map lay
spread before him on the table, he was fully satisfied ofthe
nature of his projects, and returned without making him any
propps^.

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 185
ness of venal saibblers always ready to espouse the
quarrels of a ministry, and to insult without mercy
those vyhom they can insult with impunity : on the
other, a prosecution was commenced against him by
the Attorney General, for having appUed the national
treasures to his private use ; and the very workmen
employed in buUding Blenheim House, though en
gaged by the crown, were encouraged to prosecute
him for the amount of their contracts !
These uneasinesses, joined to his grief for the
death of the Earl of Godolphin, induced him to elude
the maUce of his enemies by a voluntary exUe. Ac
cordingly, in November 1712, he embarked at Dover;
and by Ostend and Antwerp passed to Aix la Cha-
peUe, every where treated with those honours which
had been ungratefuUy withheld from him by his own
countrymen. The peace, however, having faUed to restore har
mony in the pubUc councUs, some ofthe prindpal states
men are said to have secretly invited the Duke of Marl
borough back to England. He reached London three
days after the Queen's death, in August 1714 ; was
received with aU possible demonstrations of joy by
those who, upon her Majesty's demise, were entrusted
with the functions of the government ; and upon the
arrival of George I. was particularly distinguished by
marks of royal favour : being immediately re-appointed
Captain General and Commander in Chief of aU his
Majesty's land-forces. Colonel of the first regiment
of Foot Guards, and Master of the Ordnance.
Ktis advice was of signal use in concerting those
measures, by which the RebeUion of 1715 was
crushed : and this was his last pubUc effort ; for his

186 JOHN CHURCHILL,
infirmities increasing with his years,* he retfred from
business, and spent the greatest part of his remain.
ing Ufe, in a state of absolute dotage, at one or other
of his country-houses.
His death happened on the sixteenth of June, 1722,
at Windsor Lodge ; and his corpse, upon the nmth
<rf August foUowing, was interred with the highest
flolemnity in Westminster Abbey.f
His understanding does not appear to have been
« ' From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage flow;
And Swift expires, a driveller and a show.'
(Johnson's ' Vanity qf Human Wishes!)
f The Duchess having oifered a premium of 500/. for the best
poem on her consort's achievements, the following epigram ap
peared upon tbe occasion :
' Five hundred pounds ! too small a boon
To put the poet's Muse in tune.
That nothing might escape her :
Should she attempt th' heroic story
Of the illustrious Churchill's glory,
It scarce would buy the paper 1 '
At her death, she bequeathed lOOOZ. to Glover and Mallet,, on
condition of their jointly writing memoirs of the Duke without
any verses. Glover rejected his portion of the legacy with dis
dain, and left the whole affair to his vain and petulant associate,
" I cannot," he observes with dignified concern, " refrain from
regret, that the capricious restrictions in tbe Duchess of Marl
borough's will, appointing me to write the life of her illustrious
husband, compelled me to reject the undertaking. There, con
duct, valour, and success abroad ; prudence, perseverance, learn
ing, and science at home, would have shed some portion of their.
graces on the historian's page. A mediocrity of talent would'
have felt an unmerited elevation in the bare attempt of transmit
ting so splendid a period to succeeding ages." It remains for
the highly respectable biographer of the Walpoles and the
Spanish Bourbons, to supply the desideratum. His labours, al?
ways eminently useful, are now employed upon the subject (1816).

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 187
of that rank, which rises to the character of genius ;
but rather seems to have been marked by plain good
sense, and a natural sagacity always ready to be
brought into action through the benefit of extraordi
nary coolness of temper and self-possession. His
want of even common Uterature may be excused,
from his early introduction to the study of the vs^orld
and' the courtly arts of preferment ; and these served
him so weU, that he was at no loss in conducting the
numerous and deUcate negotiations with which he
was charged. His success in these is by Lord Ches
terfield attributed, in a great degree, to his exquisite
profidency in ' the graces,' which rendered him iri'esisr
tible both to man and woman. It may be added, that
the mercenary politics of courts are best managed by
the obvious arguments of interest, and do not requfre
the superior abiUties of an orator, or a legislator.
His miUtary talents are those, on which his fame
is most soUdly founded. They are, perhaps, rated
higher by his countrymen, than by the rest of Europe :
though the general who, when matched during ten
eventful campaigns against the first warrior of his
age, won every battle he fought, and took every
town he besieged, cannot be denied to have given
practical proof of mastery in his profession.* The
co-operation, indeed, of Prince Eugene must doubt-
* His comprehensive and various capacity, observes a late
historian, was equally adapted to complicated and to detached
objects. In the several departments of plan and stratagem, and
6f enterprise ahd action, he was alike successful. The general
arrangement of the campaign and the dispositions which he made
in the day of battle, the choice Of ground, his composure and
presence of mind in the heat of an engagement, his improvement
of victory: and his ready expedients under bad fortune — were all
evidences of a stupendous pitch of military genius.

188 JOHN CHURCHILL,
less have been of great service to him ; nOr is it easy,
in thefr joint exploits, accurately to distinguish the
precise share of praise due to each. It is remarkable
that the King of Prussia, in his poem on the ' Art
of War' (whether from envy and dislike of the Eng-
Ksh nation, or from under-rating thefr General) never
mentions the Duke of Marlborough.
His moral character was that of a man of the
world, who made interest his chief guide. His con
nexion with the Whigs was, probably, no more than
an interested association; and, if Macpherson may
be credited, he maintained a correspondence with
Lord BoUngbroke, with a view to recover his power
through favour of a part of Queen Anne's Tory
ministry. That avarice, for which he was more
notorious than even for ambition, could scarcely fafl
to warp him ' from the path of real patriotism : yet
there is no reason to suppose, that during the height
of his influence he ever sacrificed to it the interests
of his country.* After this free display of his de-
• Even his avarice might, perhaps, correctly be referred to
his Duchess, to whom Swift says ' he owed both his greatness
and fall.' No woman was ever less formed for a court, yet her
Sovereign was but the second person in it. Of a disposition
totally the reverse of that of Queen Anne, she had the art to put
her royal mistress at the head of a party, and thus made her the
vehicle of her sentiments and tbe minister of her covetousness.
Few European princes could, from their own revenues, command
such sums as this lady, during the last thirty five years of het
life, possessed. Conscious, at length, that she had incurred the
contempt of the nation, she employed Hooke, the historian of
Ilome, at the price of SOOO^. to write her Defence; which was
published, in 174<2, under the title of ' An Account ofthe Con
duct of the Dowager Duchess of Marlborough from her first
fX)ming to court to the year 1710. In a Letter from herself tamy
Lord  .' Interesting from the ease and elegance of it's stile,

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 189
fects, it would be unjust to suppress the brief but
expressive eulogy bestowed upon him by his poUtical
enemy, the celebrated Earl of Peterborough: " He
was so great a man, that I have forgotten his faults."
it's anecdotes, and it's original communications, this Volume gave
rise to considerable controversy; while from the pride and preju
dice displayed in.it, and more particularly the malignity with which
it treats the memories of William and Mary„ it added very little
to the respectability of it's subject. " It is seldom (observes
Lord Orford, in his ' Royal and Noble Authors ') the public
receives information on princes and favourites frbm the fountain-
head: flattery, or invective, is apt to. pervert the relations oS
others. It is from their own pens alone, whenever they are so
gracious (like the lady in question) as to have a ' passion for
fame and approbation,' that we learn exactly how trifling and
foolish and ridiculous their views and actions were, and how
often the mischief they did proceeded from the most inadequate
causes." When Pope's character of • Atossa,' which was meant for her
self, was read to her as a portrait of the Duchess of Bucking
ham, she quickly exclaimed, " I cannot be so imposed upon ; I
see, plainly enough, for whom they are designed:" and abused
Pope for the attack, though she subsequently courted his friend
ship. Such was her violence of temper that, during her husband's
last illness, when Dr. Mead left his chamber, she followed him
down stairs, swore at him bitterly for his advice, and was about
to tear off his periwig. Bishop Hoadly was present at this in
decent scene. Rendered peevish by disappointed ambition, im
mense wealth, and increasing years, " she hated courts (says
Lord Hailes) over which she had no influence, and became at
length the most ferocious animal that is suffered to go loose — a
violent party-woman. In the latter part of her life, she became
bed-ridden. Paper, pens, and ink were placed by her side, and
she occasionally wrote down her recollections on loose papers,
from which Lord Hailes published a selection in 12mo. in 1788,
entitled « The Opinions of Sarah Duchess of Marlborough.'
These Mr. Park properly characterises, as ' the effusions of
caprice and arrogance.' She died October 18, 1744.

Wo JOHN CHURCHILL.
His Grace left four daughters, who married into
the best famiUes of the kingdom. Henrietta the
eldest married Francis Earl of Godolphin, on the
decease of her father became Duchess of Marlbo
rough, and died in 1733 without male issue : Anne
married Charles Earl of Sunderland, from whom are
descended the present Duke of Marlborough, and
Earl Spencer: EUzabeth married Scroop, Duke of
Bridgewater, and died in 1714 ; and Mary married
John Duke of Montagu, by whom she had Isabella
(the wife, successively, of WUUam Duke of Man
chester, and Edward Earl BeauUeu) and Mary, the
wife of George Earl of Cardigan, subsequently Duke
of Montagu, whose daughter, the Duchess of Mon
tagu, died without male issue in 1775.

J91

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.*

[1632—1723.]

A HIS eminent architect was the only son of Dr.
Christopher Wren, Rector of East Knoyle in WUt
shire and Dean of Windsor, and brother of Matthew
Wren Bishop of Ely, where his son was bora on the
twentieth of October, 1632. The latter part of his
early education he received under the celebrated Dr.
Busby, at Westminster School ; whence he was sent
to Oxford, and admitted a gentleman commoner at
Wadham CoUege, at the age of fourteen. In the
year preceding, he had given an extraordinary speci
men of his genius by inventing an astronomical in
strument, which he dedicated to his father in a copy
of elegant Latin verses, together with an exerdse
' De Ortu Fluminum: ' about the same time, like
wise, he contrived a curious pneumatic machine. The
progress, which he made in mathematical knowledge
during the first two years of his academical resi
dence, is recorded by Mr. Oughtred as extraordinary.
His uncommon abUities excited the admiration of
Dr.^Ukins, then Warden of Wadham CoUege, and
* Authorities. Ward's Ziue* ofthe Gresham Prefessors,
General Biographical Dictionary, British Biography, and Critical
. View ofthe Public Buildings in London and Westminster.

192 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
of Dr. Seth Ward SaviUan Professor of Astronomy.
By the former of these distinguished scholars he was
introduced to the notice and favour of Charles, the
Elector Palatine, to whom he presented several me
chanical instruments of his own invention.
In 1647, he became acquainted with Sfr Charles
Scarborough, at whose request he understock the
translation of Oughtred's ' Geometrical DiaUing ' into
Latin ; and the same year, Ukewise, he drew up a
new system of Spherical Trigonometry. He took the
degree of B. A. in 1650 ; and in 1651, he pubUshed
a short algebraical tract, relating to the JuUan Period.
He was elected a FeUow of AU Souls CoUtege in the
beginning of November, 1653, and after graduating
as B. A. becamie one of the first members of the Phi
losophical Society at Oxford; at whose assembUes in
Wadham CoUege, he exhibited many ingenious ex
periments and mechaiucal inventions.
In 1657, he was elected Professor of Astronolfly
in Gresham CoUege; where his lectures were attended
by many eminent characters. One subject of them
was the telescope, to the improvement of which he
had' greatly contributed. In 1658, he solved the
problem proposed by Pascal, under the feigned name
of Jean de Montfert, to aU the EngUsh mathemati-
dans ; and transmitted another in retum to the ma
thematicians of France (formerly proposed by Eeplfer,
and at that time answered by Wren) of which they
never gave any solution.
In February 1661, he was chosen SaviUan Profes
sor of Astronomy at Oxford, in the room of Dr. Setli
Ward; upon which he resigned his Gresham Pro
fessorship : and, in the September foUowing, he was
created LLD.

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. = ^
'¦ Among his other eminent accomplishn^ents, Dr.
Wren had afready acquired so considerable a skUl
in architecture, that he was requested hy,, order of
-Charles II. to assist Sfr John Denham, Surveyor
General of his Majesty's works. A coi^mssion also
was offered to him, upon advantageo# terms, to
superintend the fortifications a* Tangier: but this
service, on account of his he^th, he requested per
mission to decUne. He was, next, ordered to prepare
.desi^s for the general repafr of St. Paul's Cathedral.
In May 1663, he was chosen a FeUow of the Royal
Society, being one of those who were first appointed
hy the CouncU after the grant of thefr charter.
And not long afterward, when it was expected that
the King would make them a visit. Lord Brouncker
the President soUcited Wren's advice, upon the
subject of the exhibitions most proper for his Ma
jesty's entertainment. The doctor, in his reply, re
commended principaUy the TorriceUian experiment,
and the Weather-Needle, as being not merely amus
ing but useful, neat in the operation, and attended
with Uttle incumbrance.*
; The credit of the new Institution he greatly pro^'
tooted by many curious discoveries in astronomy,
natural phUosophy, and other sciences ; of which Dr.
Thomas Sprat, afterward Bishop of Rochester, in his
• History ofthe Royal Society,' has given the foUow
ing account :
" The first instance that I shaU mention, to which
Dr. Wren may lay pecuUar claim, is the doctrine of
Motion, which is the most considerable of aU others
for estabUshing the first principles of phUosophy by
..geometrical demonstrations. This Des Cartes had
'" ¦ * See the Extracts,
VOL. Y. O

194 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
before begun, having taken up some experiments of
this kind upon conjecture, and made them the first
foundation of his whole system of nature. But some
bf his conclusions seeming very questionable, because
they were only derived from the gross trials of balls
meeting one another at tennis and bUliards; Dr.
Wren produced before the society an instrument le
represent the effects of aU sorts of impulses, made
between two hard globous bodies, dther of equal or
of different bigness and swiftness, following or meet
ing each other, or the one moving and the other at
rest. From these varieties arose many unexpected
effects; of aU which he demonstrated the true theo
ries, after they had been confirmed by many hundreds
of experiments with that instrument. These he pro
posed, as the principles of aU demonstrations in
natural phUosophy., Nor can it seem strange, that
these elements should be of such universal use ; if we
consider that generation, comiption, alteration, and
aU the vicissitudes of nature are nothing else but the
effects arising from the meeting of Uttle bodies of
different figures, magnitudes, and velocities.
« The second work, which he has advanced, is
the history, of the Seasons ; which wiU be of admira'
ble benefit to mankind, if it shaU be constantly pur
sued and derived down to posterity. His proposal
therefore was, to comprehend a Diary of wind,
weather, and other conditions of the afr, as to heat,
cold, and weight ; and also a general description of
the year, whether - contagious or healthful to men or
beasts : with an account of epidemical dieases, of
Masts, mUdews, and other accidents, bdonging to
grain, cattle, fish, fowl, and insects. And because
the difficulty of a constant ofeervation of the air

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 195
by night and day seemed invincible, he therefore
devised a clock to be annexed to a weathercock,
which moved a rundle covered with paper, upon
which the clock moved a black-lead pencU ; so that
the observer, by the traces of the pencil on the paper,
might certainly conclude, what winds had blo^na in
Ms absence for twelve hours' space. After a Uke
manner, he contrived a thermometerl to he it's own
register. And because the usual .thermometers were
not found to give a true measure of the extension of
the air, by reason that the accidental gravity of the
Uquor, as it lay higher or lower in the glass, weighed
unequaUy on the afr, and gave it a farther contrac
tion or extension over and above that which was piro-
duced by heat and cold; therefore he invented a
cfrcular thermometer, .in which the Uqiuor occasions
no faUacy, but remains always in one hei]ght, moving
the whole instrument, Uke a wheel on it's axis.
? . " He has contrived an instrument tb measure the
quantities of Rain that falls. This, as soon as it is
fuU, wiU. pour out itself, and at the year's end dis-
cover^how ijauch; rain has faUen on such a space of
land, or other hard superficies ; in order to the theory
of vapours^ rivers, seas, &;c.
" He has devised many subtUe ways for the easier
finding of the gravity of the Atmospherej the degrees
of drought and moisture, and many; of it's other acci
dents. ..0 Among these instruments there are balances,
which are, usefol to other purposes, that show the
wdght of the air l^. thefr spontaneous incUnation.
" Among the new discoveries of the Pendulum,
these are to be attributed to him : that the pendulum
in it's motion from, rest to rest (that is, in one descent
and; ascent) moves unequally in equal times, accord-
o 2

196 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
ing.to a Une of sines ; that it would continue to movK
.either in cfrcular or eUiptical motions, and such vibrar
tions would have the same periods with those that
. are reciprocal ; and that by a complication, of several
pendulums depending one upon another, there might
be represented motions, Uke the planetary helical
motions, or more intricate; and yet that these. pen
dulums would discover without confusion (as, the
planets do) three or four several motions, acting upon
one body with differing periods ; and that there may
be produced a natural standard for measure from the
pendulum for vulgar use.
" He has invented many ways to make Astrono
mical observations more accurate and easy. He has
fitted and hung quadrants, sextants, and radU, more
commodiously than formerly. He has made two •
telescopes, to open with a joint like a sector, hy
which observers may infaUibly take a distance to half
nunutes, and find no difference in the same observa
tion reiterated several times ; nor can any warping,
or luxation, of the instrument hinder the truth ofit.
" He has added many sorts of retes, screws, and ,
other devices to telescopes, for taking smaU distances
and apparent diameters to seconds. He has made
apertures to take in more or less Ught, as the observer
pleases, by opening and shutting like the pupU ofthe
eye, the better to fit glasses to crepuscuUne observa
tions. He has added much to the theory of Diop
trics, much to the manufacture itself of grincUng good
glasses. He has attempted, and not without success,
the making of glasses of other forms than spherical.
He has exactly measured and delineated the spheres
of the humours in the eye, whose proportions one to
another were only guessed at before. This accurate

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 197
discussion produced the reason, why we see things
erect ; and that reflexion conduces as much to vision,
as refraction.
" He discoursed to them a natural and easy theory
of Refraction, which exactly answered every experi
ment. He fuUy demonstrated aU dioptrics in a few
propositions, showing not only, as in Kepler's diop
trics, the common properties of glasses, but the pro
portions by which the individual rays cut the axis
and each other ; upon which the charges (as they
are usuaUy caUed) of telescopes, or the proportions of
the eye-glasses and apertures, are demonstrably dis
covered. " He had made constant observations on Satum,
and a theory of that planet, truly answering aU ob
servations, before the printed discourse of Huygenius
on that subject appeared. ;
" He has essayed to make a true Selenography by
measure ; the world having nothing yet but pictures,
rather than surveys or maps, of the moon. He has
stated the theory of the moon's Ubration^ as far as
his observations could carry him. He has composed
a lunar globe, representing not oiily the spots and
various degrees of whiteness upon it's surface, but
the hiUs, eminences, and cavities, moulded in soUd
work. The globe, thus fashioned into, a true model
of the moon, as you tum it to the light represents
aU the menstrual phases, with the variety of appear
ances that happen from the shadows of the moun
tains and valleys. He has made maps of the Pleiades,
and other telescopical stars ; and proposed methods
to determine the great doubt of the earth's motion oz
rest, by the smaU stars about the pole to be seen ijj
large telescopes.

198 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
" In order to Navigation, he has carefuUy pursued
many magnetical experiments ; of which this is one
ofthe noblest and most fhiitful of speculation. A
large tereUa is placed in the midst of a plane-board
with a hole, into which the tereUa is half immersed,
tUl it be Uke a globe with the poles in the horizon^
Then is the plane dusted over with steel-fiUngg
equaUy from a sieve. The dust by the magnetical
virtue is immediately figured into -furrows, that bend
like a sort of helix, proceeding as it were out of
one pole, and retuming into the other. And the whole
plane is thus figured Uke the drcle of a planisphere.
" It being a question among the problems of. navi
gation very weU worth resolving, to what mechanical
powers saUing (against the wind especiaUy) was re^
ducible ; he showed it to be a wedge. And he de
monstrated, how a transient force upon an obUque
plane would cause the motion of the plane against
the first mover. And he made an instrument, which
mechanicaUy produced the same effect, and showed
the reason of saiUng to aU winds. '
" The geometrical mechanics of Rowing he showed
to be a vectis on a moving, or cedent, fulcrum. For
this end, he made instruments to find what the ex
pansion of body was toward the hindrance of motion
in a Uquid medium, and what degree of impediment
was produced by what degree of expansion ; with
ether things, that are the necessary elements for
laying down the geometry of saUing, swimming,
rowing, flying, and the fabrics of ships.
"He has invented a very curious and exceeding
speedy way of Etching. He has started several
things toward the emendation of Water-works. He
has made instruments of Respfration, and for strain-

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 199
ing the breath from fuUginous vapours, to try whether
the same breath so purified wUl serve again.
" He was the first inventor of drawing pictures by
Microscopical Glasses. He has found out perpetual,
at least long-Uved Lamps, and Registers of Furnaces
and the like, for keeping a perpetual temper, in order
to various uses ; as hatching of eggs, insects, produc
tion of plants, chemical preparations, imitating nature
in producing fossUs and minerals, keeping the motion
of watches equal in order to lon^tudes and astrono
mical uses and infinite other advantages.
" He was the first author of the noble Anatomical
experiment of injecting Uquors in the veins of animals,
an experiment now vulgarly known, but long since
exhibited to the meetings at Oxford, and thence car--
ried by some Germans and pubUshed abroad. By
this operation divers creatures were immediately
purged, vomited, intoxicated, kUled, or revived, ac-t
cording to the quaUty of the Uquor injected. Hence
arose many new experiments, and chiefly that of
Transfosing blood, which the society has prosecuted
in sundry instances.
" This is a short account of the principal discove
ries, which Dr. Wren has presented or sugges|ted to
this assembly. I know very weU, that some of them
he did only start and design ; and that they have been
since carried on to perfection by the industry of other
hands. I purpose not to rob them of thefr share in
the honour ; yet it is but reasonable, that the original
invention should be ascribed to the true author, rather
than the finishers. Nor do I fear that this wiU be
thought too much, which I have said concerning him ;
for there is a pecuUar reverence due to so much ex-
5

200 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
ceUencS, covered with so much modesty. And it is
not flattery, but honesty, to give him his just
jpraise, who is so far from usurping the fame of
other men, that he endeavours with aU care to con
ceal, his own."
In 1664, he made the drawings for Dr. Willis'
' Anatome Cerebri: The year foUowing he visited
France, where he not only surveyed aU the buUdings
of note in Paris, but took particular notice of what
ever wa^ chiefly remarkable in every branch of
mechanics, and contracted an acquaintance wilh the
most considerable virtuosi. And in a letter, ad
dressed at this time to one of his friends, he in
forms him, ' he was so careful not to lose the im
pressions of those structures which he had surveyed;
that he should bring aU France in paper.' He con-
dudes his communication with a large catalogue of
architects, sculptors, statuaries, stucco-makers, painters
in history and portraiture, gravers of medals and coins,
and other artists then eminent in that country.*
Upon his return to England, he finished his designs
for the repair of St. Paul's. The Ffre of London,
which began on September 2, 1666, f gave him an
opportunity of raising an uniform fabric. A few
* Unfortunately, says Walpole, he went no farther; as the
numerous drawings of French buildings had bu,t too visible an
influence upon some of his owij.
t Ofthe ninety seven parish churches ivithin the walls, this
destructive fire consumed no less than eighty three, beside the
Cathedral itself; and two churches without the walls, but within
the liberties. Of these, forty eight vere ordered by 22 Charles It
to be rebuilt; some annexed to other churches, and others not
annexed. These are all distinguished by Italics in the list at?
Cached to the end bf this Memoir.

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 201
days after that di^ster, he drew a plan for an entfrely
new city. His model was so formed, that the chief
streets were to cross each other in right Unes, with
smaUer streets between them: the pubUc buildings
and markets were so disposed, as not to interfere
with the streets ; and at proper distances were placed
four piazzas, in which several of the streets should
meet. The parochial churches were visible at the
end of every vista of houses, and frqm thefr distri
bution appeared neither too thick nor too thin in
prospect. From St. Paul's, as the centre of the whole;
streets were to have diverged in every dfrection.
The pubUc haUs for the several Companies were tb
be buUt upon a quay facing the Thames, on which
also were to have been erected houses for some of
the prindpal merchants. But .the execution of this
noble design was unhappily prevented by the dis
putes, which arose about private property, and the
hurry of re-buUding; though it's practicabiUty was
satisfactorily demonstrated, and every material ob
jection had been fuUy discussed and surmounted.
Upon the decease of Sir John Denham, in March
1668, Dr. Wren succeeded him in the office of Sur
veyor General of his Majesty's Works. In the same
year, he finished the Theatre at Oxford. This struc
ture is particularly admirable for the contrivance df
the flat roof, which extends eighty feet by seventy,
without any arch-work or pUlars to support, it.
The variety of business, in which he was now en
gaged as an architect, requiring his constant attend
ance, he resigned his SaviUan Professorship in 1673;
The year foUowing, he received from Charles II. the
honour of knighthood. Some time afterward he mar-.
ried Faith, daughter of Sfr Thomas CdghUl of Bleching-

202 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
ton in Oxfordshfre, by whom he had one child, a son
of his own name. By his second wife Jane, daughter
of Lord FitzwUUam (Baron of Lifford m Ireland) he
had two others, a son and a daughter.
In 1675, he began the new Cathedral of St. Paul's;
a fabric generaUy accounted second only to St. Peter's,
in the Grecian stUe, among Christian churches.
In 1677, he completed the Monument, which had
been commenced in 1671 by order of parUament to
commemorate the burning and re-buUding of Lon*
don. Of this piUar,' of the Doric order, the pe.
destal is forty feet high and twenty one square,
the diameter fifteen, and the altitude two hundred
and two; a height greatly exceeding that of the
piUars of Trajan and Antoninus at Rome,* and of
Theodosius at Constantinople. It is undoubtedly, as
the author of ' The Review of our PubUc Buddings'
observes, " the noblest modem column in the world:
nay, in some respects, it may justly vie with those
celebrated ones of antiquity, which are consecrated'
to the names of Trajan and Antonine. Nothing- can
be more bold and surprising, nothing moi"e beautiful
and harmonious: the bas reUef at the base,f aUowing
for some few defects, is finely imagined and executed
as weU : and nothing' material can be cavUled with,
but the inscriptions round about it." :|: These, like-

* The latter, 12| feet in diameter, was 172| feet high; th^
former only 147. . , , s
t By the father of Colley Cibber, the Poet Laureat. The
same artist supplied the celebrated figures over the old gate of
Bethlem Hospital.
:j: The Catholics resenting that part ofthe inscription, which
ascribed the conflagration to ' the treachery and malice of their
faction,' procured it's erasure upon the accession of James II<i

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 203
wise, Sfr Christopher Wren had prepared in a dif
ferent stUe ; but he was over-ruled.
In 1680, he was elected President of the Royal
Society ; and in 1681, he put the finishing hand
to the church of St. Stephen's, Walbrook " This
church," says an ingenious writer, " so Uttle known
among us, is famous aU over Europe, and is justly
reputed the jnagter-piece of the celebrated Sir Chris
topher Wren. Perhaps Italy itself can produce no
modem buUding, that can vie with it in taste or
proportion: there is not a beauty, which the plan
would admit of, that is not to be found here in it's
greatest perfection ; and foreigners very justly caU
our judgement in question for understanding it's
graces no better, and aUowing it no higher a de
gree of fame."
In 1683, he was appointed Architect and Com
missioner for Chelsea CoUege; and, the year fol
lowing, ComptroUer of the Works in the Castle at
Windsor. In 1685, he was chosen Representative for Plympr
ton in Devonshfre. In 1690, he began to buUd the
royal apartments at Hampton Court, which were
finished in 1694, just before the death of the
Queen. These the Kirtg himself pronounced, ' for
good proportion, state, and convenience unparaUeUed
in any palace in Europe.' Queen Mary, who had
an elegant taste for the poUte arts, and by her
but, soon after the Revolution, it was restored. In Pope's
distich, ' Where London's column, pointing to the skies.
Like a tall bully lifts it's head, and lies,' &c.
we trace the religion of the author.

04 SIR . CHRISTOPHER WREN.
proficiency in several sciences was superior to most
of her sex, took great pleasure at aU times in con
versing freely with the architect upon various branches
of profound Uterature.
In 1690, he finished Chelsea CoUege, and prescril)ed
also the statutes and economy of the whole estabUsh
ment. He was, also, the Architect of Greenwich
Hospital; and renounced aU salary and emolument
upon the occasion, as a tribute to the generous pur
pose for which it was erected.
In 1698, he was appointed Surveyor General and
Commissioner for the repair of Westminster Abbey.
In 1700, he was elected Member for Weymouth
and Melcombe Hegis, in Dorsetshfre. Eight years
afterward, he was appointed one of the Commis
sioners for buUding the new churches in and about
London. In 1710, he finished the Cathedral of St.
Paul. This magnificent Cathedral, it has been ob
served, was completed in the space of thirty five
years under one Architect, one principal Mason, Mr.
Strong, and one Bishop of London (Dr. Henry Comp
ton), in the reigns of four Princes; whereas that
of St. Peter's at Rome was one hundred and forty
five years in buUding, and during the reigns of nine
teen Popes employed the talents of twelve successive
architects, though assisted by the powerful patronage
of the Romish see, the ready acquisition of marble
from the neighbouring quarries of TivoU, the ablest
artists in sciUpture, statuary, painting, and Mosaic
work, and the whole wealth of the CathoUc world.
The outside, and particularly the westem front,
of the Protestant edifice is acknowledged to be
much superior to those of it's mighty model. The

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 20B
whole expense of it's erection was 736,752/. 2*. 3d.* ,
Before Sir Christopher was caUed upon to produce
his design for it, he had made several sketches, in
order to discover what would' be most acceptable
to the general taste; and finding that persons of
aU degrees declared in favour of grandeur, he formed
a very noble one, conformable to the best stUe of
Greek and Roman architecture, of which he caused
a large model to be constructed in wood, and pre
sented to his Majesty : but the Bishops disapproving
it, as not sufficiently of the cathedral form, he sub
stituted the plan of the present edifice in it's stead.
The first design, however, which (Uke that of St.Pe-
* The charge, by some computations stated at more than
double the above sura, was chiefly supported by a small tax on
Sea-coal, beside a grant from the privy purse of 1,0001. per ann.,
and the gifts, subscriptions, and legacies of individuals.
The dimensions of the New Cathedral of St. Paul, compared
with the Old, and with St. Peter's at Rome, are as follow :
New. Old. St. Peter's.
Length within - - .
Breadth at the Entrance
¦  Cross
Front without
Diameter of the Dome
Height from the Ground -
¦ of the Church
" the Cupola and Lantern 330
New St. Paul's stands upon a little more than two acres of
ground: the area of the Old exceeded three acres and a half.
Notwithstanding these inferiorities of dimension, however, 'for
loftiness and grandeur (it is justly asserted), beauty in perspec
tive, truth and firmness in building, taste in design, harmony of
parts, and convenience for the celebration^ of divine worship,
there never was so perfect a building begun and finished under
the sole direction of one individual in the universe.' 6

soo

660

669

100



226

223

130

442

180

395

108

139

440

520

578

110

150

146

330

— .

432

206 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
ter's at Rome) was of the Corinthian order, he him-
self preferred to that, by which it was superseded.*
He was employed in erecting a great variety of
other churches, and pubUc edifices; but notwith
standing his extraordinary merit, in April 1718, he
was to the disgrace of the administration removed
from his Surveyorship, in . the eighty sixth year of
his age, after upward of fifty years spent in the
continued and laborious service df the public. Till
this time he had resided in an official house jn Scotr
land Yard, adjoining to Whitehall. But after his
removal, he dwelt occasionaUy in St. James' Stoeet,
Westminster, continuing Surveyor of the Abbey (to
which station he had been appointed in 1698) tiU his
death. He had another house also, as Surveyor Ge
neral to the Crown, at Hampton Court : which beiog
held by an Exchequer-lease, under a grant of Queen
Anne, descended to his son. Having employed five
years of retfrement in scientific studies and reading
the Scriptures,- he died of a cold in the ninety first
year of his age, Febmary 25, 1723.f His fo'neral
* This curious Model is still preserved in the Cathedral. The
device over the pediment (it may be added) « a Phoenix rising
from the Flames,' with the word Besurgam underneath, origi
nated probably from an accident, which was regarded by the ss-.
chitect himself as a favourable omen. When he had set out the
dimensions, and fixed upon the centre of the great dome, a la
bourer was ordered to bring him a flat stone from the rubbijh,
as a mark of the spot. The man accidentally laid his hand first
upon a fragment of a grave-stoi?e, with the single word Resurgam '
in large capitals remaining. This circumstance Sir Christopher
never forgot.
t He is said to have indulged a pardonable pride in his great
performance, by orderibg bimself to. be carried once everv year
to St. Paul's.

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 207
was attended by many persons of honour and dis
tinction to St. Paul's, where his corpse was deposited
under a flat stone raUed in between two piUars, and
bearing a short EngUsh inscription. But the church
itself being his most appropriate and noble monu
ment, he wanted no other ; as is justly intimated in
a Latin inscription, written by his son, and placed
above the former, to the foUowing purport : " Be
neath Ues buried Christopher Wren, the buUder
of this church and city, who Uved upward of ninety
years, not to himself, but for the good of the pubUc.
Reader, if thou seekest his monument, look round."*
He was, in his person, low and thin ; but by tem
perance and skUful management, for he was a pro
ficient in anatomy and physic, he enjoyed a good state
of health, and protracted his Ufe to an unusual length.
For this, however, he might probably be indebted in
part to his remarkable cheerfulness and equanimity.
He was also modest, devout, strictly virtuous, very
communicative of what he knew, and extremely
disinterested; the acquisition of wealth appearing
scarcely in any degree to have been an object; of his
attention. " He was," says a brother-architect, " one of the
worthy favourites of fortune; living in times and
under cfrcumstances, which afforded greater employ-
, ment for his talents than any other EngUsh artist has
been favoured with, he possessed an inexhaustible fer-
tiUty of invention, combined with good natural taste
and profound scientific knowledge ; quaUties, which
render his works highly interesting and admfrable, in
* Lector, si monumentum requiris^ drewmspioe. -

SOS SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
spite of defects which a better study of the antique
would have taught him to avoid.
" In the steeples of churches, objects for which the
remains of antique buUdings offer no models, other
architects have almost invariably failed ; but among
the rich variety of Wren's towers, steeples, and spires
many are truly elegant. The church of St. Ste
phen's, Walbrook, exhibits a departure from common
forms, equaUy ingenious and beautiful. The Monu-
ment is grand and simple. If these (which, in speak
ing of Sfr C.Wren, must be caUed * his'inferior works')
be compared with the productions of his successors
Hawksmoor, Gibbs, and others, we shaU be truly sen
sible of the taste and judgement of this great archi-
itect, in observing the gross and heavy absur&s
which they have faUen into, and he has avoided. But
jt is by his great work, the Cathedral of St. Paul's,
that the fame of Wren wUl Uve; an edifice wMch,
in architectural beauties and skilful construGtioil|is
inferior to none of the large churches of Europe,
Though few have executed so much, there are some
of his unexecuted designs, which ought not to be
passed unnoticed. In the originid model for St,
Paul's, the chief defects of that buUding are avoided;
and had it been carried into execution, with the im
provements which would naturaUy have occurred to
his inventive mhid, it would have been unquestion
ably the finest edifice of the kind. The design ios
re-buUding London after the great Ffre is admfrably
; adapted to the ground, and would have made this a
dty of unequaUed beauty and convenience. The ta
lent of Wren was particularly adapted to ecclesiasti
cal architecture, which afforded domes and towers to

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 209
his picturesque fancy ; whUe in his palaces and pri
vate houses he has sometimes sunk into a heavy
monotony, as at Hampton Court and Winqhester.
At Greenwich, however, the additions made by him
to the original work of Inigo Jones are singularly
grand and beautiful. On the whole, Sfr Christopher
Wren's architecture is, perhaps, the perfection of that
modem stUe which, with forms and modes of con
struction essentially Gothic, adopts for the decorative
part the orders and ornaments of antiquity."
Beside being the greatest architect of his age,* so
extensive was his profidency in aU the poUte arts
(but, especiaUy, in mathematics) so fertUe his inven
tion, and so numerous and useful his discoveries, fhat
he must always be esteemed a benefactor to mankind
and an ornament to his country. Mr. Hooke, who
was intimately acquainted with him, speaks of
him in the foUowing emphatic terms : " I must
afifrm that since the time of Archimedes there
scarcely ever has met in one man, in so great a
perfection, such a mechanical head and so phUo
sophical a mind."
His only surviving chUd, Christopher, who was
educated at Eton, removed thence to Pembroke HaU,
Cambridge; in 1684, was made Deputy Clerk Engros
ser; and in 1698, traveUed through HoUand, France,
and Italy. He was twice chosen member of parUa
ment for Windsor, in the years 1712 and 1714; was
a leamed and pious man, a good antiquary, and be
loved by all his acquaintance for his communicative
* Of his rank, as a man of science, no other estimate need be
quoted than that of Sir Isaac Newton, who in his ' Principia '
unites his name with those of Wallis and Huygens, as hujus cetatis
geometrarumfadle prindpes.
VOL. V. p

210 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
disposition. He died in 1747, at the age of seventy two,
and Ues interred at WroxhaU in Warwickshfre, where
he had a country-seat. In 1703, he pubUshed a tisatise
entitled, ' Numismatum Antiquorum Sylloge, Populis
GrcEcis, Municipiis et Coloniis Romanis cusorum.
Ex Chimeliarcho Editoris.' He, also, left behind him
a treatise in manuscript, with the foUowing title:
' Parentalia : Memorials of the Lives of the Right
Reverend Father in God, Matthew Wren, D.D. Lord
Bishop of Ely; Christopher Wren, D.D. Dean of
Windsor; and Sfr Ghrisdpher Wren, Knt. Surveyor
Gfeneral of the Royal BuUdings : with CoUections of
Records and Original Papers.' This piece, with
some alterations in the title, was pubUshed hy his son
Stephen in 1750, in foUo.
The foUowing is a Catalogue of the Churches of the
City of London, Royal Palaces, Hospitals, and Public
Edifices buUt by Sfr Christopher Wren in the half
century intervening between the years 1668 and 1718.
St. Paul's Cathedral. Christ's Church, a.
St.Alban's, Wood Street, unann. St. Christopher's, u,
Alhallows, Bread Street, ann. St. Clement Danes.
Alhallows the Great, a. St. Clement's, East Cheap, a.
Alhallows, Lombard Street, u. St. Dionis Bachchurch. ».
St. Andrew's, Wardrobe, a. St. Dunstan's in the East. u.
St. Andrew's, Holbom. St.Edmund's,LombardStreetx
St. Anne's, Aldersgate. a. St, George's, Botolph Lane, i,
St. AnthoUri's. a. St. James', Garlich Hill. u.
St, Austin's, a. St. James', Westminster.
St. Bartholomews', Exchange, u . St. Lawrence, Jerwry. . a.
St, Benet's, Finke. u. St. Magnus', London Bridge.BH
St. Benet's, Gracechurch. a. St, Margaret's, Lothbury. u.
St, Benet's, Paul's Wharf, a. St. Margaret Pattons. a.
St. Bride**.* St. Mary's Abchurch. a.
* Those of St. Bride, St. Mary-Le-Bow, St. Michael Cornhill,
and St. Stephen's Walbrook, are distinguished by their steeples.

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.

211

St. Mary's, Aldermanbury. u.
St. Mary's, Aldermary. a.
St. Mary Le Bow. a.
St. Mary Ax Hill. a.
St. Mary Magdalen, Old Fish
Street, a.
St. Mary's, Somerset, a.
St, Martin's, Ludgate. u.
St, Matthew's, Friday Street, a.
St. Michael's, Basinghall.
St. Michael's, Crooked Lane. u.
St, Michael's, Cornhill. u.
St, Michael's, Queenhithe, a.
St, Michael's Royal, a.
St, Michael's, Wood Street, a.
St, Mildred's, Bread Street, a.
St. Mildred, Poultry, a.
St, Nicholas's, Cole Abbey, a.
Sit. Olave's, Jewry, a.

St. Peter's, Cornhill, u.
St. Sepulchre's, u
St, Stephen's, Coleman Street, u.
St. Stephen's, Walbrook. a.
St. Swithin's, Cannon Street, a.
St. Vedast, alias Foster's
Church, a.
The Monument.
The Custom House.
Winchester Castle.
Hampton Court (the new part).
Chelsea Hospital.
Greenwich Hospital.
Oxford. The Theatre, and
the great Campanile at
Christ Church.
Cambridge. Trinity College
'Library, and the Chapel of
Emanuel College.

To these may be added the Frontispiece of the
Middle Temple near Fleet Street, erected in 1684 ;
and many of the renovations of Westminster Abbey.
Beside which, several other designs of buUdings were
drawn by him, though never carried into execution :
particularly, one for re-buUding the Palace of White
hall, some time after the Restoration ; and two for
the same purpose after* the fire, by whidi it suffered
in 1697. A large coUection of his draughts and de
signs was purchased by the members of AU Souls
CoUege, and repOsited in several large folios in their
Ubrary. He was the author, also, of several pieced (though
he prijlted nothing himself) of which some have been
pubUshed in the ' PhUosophical Transactions,' the
' Parentalia,' kc, and others stUl remain in manu-^
Script. p 2

212 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
Extract of a Letter to the Right Honourable the
Lord Brouncker, preparative to his Majesty's
Entertainment at the Royal Society. • ¦
* My Lord, ' Oxon, 166I.
' The act and noise at Oxford bdng over, I re
tired myself as speedUy as I could to obey your
Lordship, and contribute something to the coUection
of experiments designed by the Society for his Ma
jesty's reception. I concluded on something I thought
most suitable for such an occasion ; but the stupidity
of our artists here makes the apparatus so tedious,
that I foresee I shaU not be able to bring it to any
thing within the time proposed. What in the mean-
whUe to suggest to your Lordship, I cannot guess:
the solemnity of the occasion, and my soUcitude for
the honour of the Society, makes me think nothing
proper, nothing remarkable enough. 'Tis not every
year wiU produce such a master-experiment as the
TonicelUan, and so fruitful of new experiments as
that is ; and, therefore, the Society have deservedly
spent much time upon that and it's offspring : and, if
you have any notable experiment that may appear to
open new Ught into prindples of phUosophy, nothing
would better beseem the pretensions of the Society,
though possibly such would be too jejune for- this
purpose, in which there ought to be something of
pomp. On the other side, to produce knacks only
and things to raise wonder, such as Kfrcher, Scottus,
and even jugglers abound with, wUl scarcely become
the gravity of the occasion : it must therefore he
something between both, lucUerous in phUosophyjvan4

sm CHRISTOPHER WREN. 21?
yet whose use and advantage is obvious and without
a lecture; and, besides, may surprise with some un
expected effect, and be commendable for the in
genuity of the contrivance. Half a dozen of experi
ments, thus quaUfied, wUl be abundantly enough for
an hour's entertainment ; and I cannot beUeve the
Society can want them, if they look back into thefr
own store. For myself I must profess freely, I have
not any thing by me suitable to the idea I have of
what ought to be performed before such an assembly.
Geometrical problems, and new lines, new bodies, new
methods, how useful soever, wiU be but tasteless in a
transient show. New theories, or observations, or as
tronomical instruments, either for observation or fa
cilitation of the calculus, are valuable to such artists
only, who have particularly experimented the defects
that these things pretend to supply.
' Sciographical knacks, of which yet a hundred va
rieties may be given, are so easy, in the invention, that
now they are cheap. Ichnographical, catoptrical, and
dioptrical tricks requfre exceUent painting, as weU as
geometrical truth in the profile, or else they deceive
not. Designs of engines for ease of labour, or pro
moting any thing in agriculture or the trades, I, have
OccasionaUy thought upon divers; but they are not
intelUgible without letters and references, and often
not without something of demonstration. Designs in
architecture, &;c. the few chemical experiments I have
been acquainted with, wUl, I fear, be too tedious for
an entertainment. Experiments in anatomy, though
of the most value for thefr use, are noisome and sor
did to any. but those, whose desfre of knowledge
makes them digest it. Experiments for the estabUsh
ment of natural phUosophy are seldom pompous : it is

214 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
upon bUUards and tennis-baUs, upon the purUng of
sticks and tops, upon a vial of water or a wedge of
glass, that the great Des Cartes hath buUt the most
refined and accurate theories that human wit ever
reached to. And certainly Nature in the best of hear
works is apparent enough in obvious things^, were
they but curiously observed ; and the key that opens
treasures is often plain and rusty, but unless it be
gUt, it wiU make no show at court.
' If I have been conversant in phUosophical things
(as I know how idle I have been) it hath been prin
cipaUy in these ways, which I have recounted to your
Lordship, by which your Lordship perceives how use-
less I am for this service : yet if your Lordship will
stUl pursue me, , I know not what shift to make,
but to retfre back to something I have formerly pro
duced. ' I have pleased myself not a Uttle with the pl?iy
ofthe Weather- Wheel (the only true way to measure
expansions of the air), and I imagine it must needs
give others satisfaction, if it were once ffrmly made ;
which, I suppose, may be done, if the cfrcular pipe^
(which cannot be truly blown in glass) were made of
brass, by those who make trumpets and sackbutts
who wfre-draw their pipes through a hole to equal
them, and then fUUng them with melted lead tum
them round into what flexures they please. The in
side of the pipe must be varnished with china-vamish
to preserve it from the quicksUver, and the glassesi
fixed to it with vamish, which I suppose wiU be the
best cement in the worid ; for thus the Chinese fix
glass and mother of pearl in their works. It would
be no unpleasing spectacle, to see a man Uve without;
new air, as long as you please. A description of the

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 215
vessel for cooUng and percolating the air at once, I
formerly showed the Society, and left in Mr. Boyle's
hands. I suppose it^ worth putting in practice : you
wiU at least leam thus much from it, that something
else in air is requisite for life, than that it should be
cool only, and free from the fuUginous vapours and
moisture it was infected with in expfration ; for aU
those wiU, in probabUity, be deposited in it's cfrcula-
tion through the instrument. If nitrous flames be
found requisite, as I suspect, ways may possibly be
found to supply that too, by placing some benign
chemical spfrits, that by foming may infed the afr
within the vessel.
' If an artificial eye were tmly and dioptricaUy
made, which I would have at least as big as a tennis-
baU, it would represent the picture as nature makes
it. The cornea and crystaUine must be of glass, the
other humours, water. I once surveyed a horse's eye
as exactly as I could, measuring what the spheres of
the CrystaUine and cornea were ; and what the pro
portions of the distances of the centres of every sphere
were upon the axis. The ways, hy which I did it,
were too long to rehearse; but the projection in triple
the magnitiuie Sfr Paul NeiUe may possibly find, or
if your Lordship think it worth whUe, I shaU reite
rate the experiment. A needle, that would play in a
coach, wUl he as weU usefol to know the coast and
way, joined with the way-wiser, as a pleasant diver
sion to the traveUer ; and would be an acceptable
present to his Majesty, who might thus, as it were,
saU by land. The fabric may be thus : In a sphere
of glass of two inches diameter, half foU of water,
cause a short heavy broad needle fixed to a chart to

216 SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.
swim, being buoyed by the chart and both varnished f
instead of a cap and pin, let the perforated needle
play about a smaU wfre or horse-hafr, extended like a
perpendicular axis in the glass sphere, whose nadir
being made weighty with lead, and an horizon as it
were cemented to it, let it*play in cfrcles Uke the
compass : then let a hemispherical concave, contain
ing the sphere in it's cfrcles, be hung upon springs
after this manner.
' Suppose a basis upon which are erected, Ffrstly,
three stiff brass-springs, from the end of which springs
are strings strained, forming an equilateral triangle; the
middle of whose sides pass through three smaU loops
on the brim ofthe concave, which therefore hanging on
the strings represents a circle inscribed in a triangle.
From the middle of the basis arises a worm-spring,
fastened by a string to the nadir of the concave,
drawing it down a Uttle, and acting against the other
three springs. These springs wUl take off at once, I
suppose, much of both the downright and coUateral
concussions ; the drcles wiU take off oscillations, the
agitations remaining wiU be spent in the water, and
stiUed by the chart: for thus we see, a trencher swim
ming in a bucket keeps the water from spilUng in the
carriage ; and the Chinese have their compass swim
ming in water instead of circles.
^ Lastly, I would have aU the bottom of the brass
bristled round Uke a brush, some what incUned, which
is a cheap addition, and wiU ease it Uke a hundred
springs. It should be placed upon the middle of the
floor of the coach, where by opening a window you
might see Ukewise the way-wiser on the perch.
My Lord, if my first designs had been perfect,' I had

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. 217
not troubled your Lordship with so much tattle, but
with something performed and done ; but I am fain in
this letter to do Uke some chemist, who when projec
tion (his fogitive darUng) hath left him threadbare, is
forced to faU to vulgar preparations to pay his debts.
'My Lord,
' I am yours, &;c.
' Chb. Wren.'

218

ROBERT HARLEY,
EARL OF OXFORD AND MORTIMER^'

[1661—1724.]

Robert, the eldest son of Sir Edward Harley,
was bom in Bow Street, Covent Garden, London,
December 5, 1661, and received his education under
the Rev. Mr. Bfrch at Shilton near Burford in Ox
fordshfre: which, though a private school, was re- >
markable for having produced at the same time a
Lord High Treasurer, Lord Oxford ; a Chancellor,
Lord Harcourt; a Lord Chief Justice of the Common
Pleas, Lord Trevor ; and ten members of the House
of Commons. Here he laid the foundation of those
extensive acquirements, which rendered him subse
quently so conspicuous.
At the Revolution, in conjunction with his father,
he raised a troop of horse for the service of
the Prince of Orange; and after the accession
of the new Sovereigns, he was elected Member
first for Tregony in ComwaU, and afterward for
Radnor in South Wales, which he continued to
* Authorities. Collins' Lives of the Earls qf Oxford,
Biographia Britannica, Birch's Lives, and Tindal's ContinuH'
tion of Rapin.

EARL OF OXFORD. 219
represent tiU he was caUed up to the House of
Lords. In 1690, he was chosen by baUot one of the nine
Commissioners for Stating the PubUc Accounts ; and,
also, one of the Arbitrators for uniting- the two India
Companies. Four years, afterward, the Commons
appointed him to prepare and bring in a bUl, ' For
the frequent meeting and calUng of parUaments,'
which was adopted by both Houses without alteration.
In 1702, he was elected Speaker; an honour, which
he subsequently received both in the ensuing parUa
ment of King WilUam, and the first of Queen Anne.
In 1704, he was sworn of her Majesty's Privy
CouncU ; and soon afterward constituted one of the
principal Secretaries of State.*
In 1706, he was appointed one of the Commis
sioners for the treaty of Union with Scotland ; and
in 1710, on the dismission of Earl Godolphin, f
Commissioner of the Treasury, and ChanceUor
and Under Treasurer of the Exchequer. In this
situation, he accompUshed for Swift, as agent for
the Irish prelacy, the grant ofthe Ffrst Fruits
and Tenths to the Clergy of Ireland, which had
been for many years soUcited in vain. Throughout
the whde business, he paid a particular attention to
the honour of his friend, whom he extremely loved. |
* This office, in which he succeeded Daniel, Earl of Not
tingham, he resigned in 1708, under the influence of the
intrigues of the Lords Marlborough and Godolphin.
t The fall of this nobleman brought on the removal of all his
friends. This accounts for the bitter portrait drawn of Harley
by the Duchess of Marlboroiigh in the « Account of her Con
duct,' &c.
t See the Extracts.

220 ROBERT HARLEY,
In 1711, he incurred great danger of his life; the
Abbe de la BourUe* (commonly caUed, the Marquis
of Guiscard) a Frenchman, whUe under examination
before the Privy CouncU for high treason, having
stabbed him with a penknife, f Upon this, the
assassin was committed to Newgate, where he died
within a few days. During his confinement he con- \
fessed, that ' his intention was to have murthered Mr.
St. John (afterward Viscount BoUngbroke) at that
time one of the Secretaries of State, on account of
his activity in the conviction of one Greg for a trea
sonable correspondence with France.' Greg and
Gifrscard were both, it appears, in the pay of that
country ; and Harley had been the first detedor of
Greg's designs. The only reason, however, assigned
by Guiscard for stabbing the latter, who had changed
seats with St. John (so that he could not reach the
* This man had solicited to be employed against his country irt
several courts of Europe, obtained at length a commission from
Queen Anne, and embarked in an expedition which miscarriel,
His expectations being disappointed by the new ministry, he
endeavoured to make his peace at home by acting here as a Spy,
and commenced a treasonable correspondence. His letters
were intercepted, and produced to him at his examination by
Mr. Harley.
f See the Examiner, No. xxxiii. March IS, 1710-11; and
' The true Narrative of what passed at the Examination of the
Marquis de Guiscard,' in Swift's Works, iv. 201 — 222. Swift
addressed an extempore tetrastich, upon this flagitious event,
to his physician :
• On Britain Europe's safety lies ;
Britain is lost, if Harley dies :
Harley depends upon your skill,
Think what you save, or what you kill.'
Prior, also, shed some "melodious tears on the same occasion."

EARL OF OXFORD. 221
latter) was, that ' he thought it some satisfaction to
kiU his dearest friend.*
An Act of ParUament was soon afterward passed,
making it felony without benefit of clergy to attempt
the life of a Privy Councillor in the execution of
his office ; and a clause was inserted, to indemnify aU
persons who, in assisting to defend Mr. Harley, had
given any wound or bruise to the Sieur de Guiscard,
whereby he received his death. Both Houses of
ParUament addressed the Queen upon this occasion,
and received from her Majesty an answer, in which
she spoke of Mr. Harley's zeal and fidelity in her
service, and his known opposition to Popery and fac
tion, as having instigated the " horrid endeavour."
He was confined by his wound for several weeks,
before he was able to resume his attendance upon
his parUamentary duty. >
In 1711, with a view of rewarding his exer
tions, her Majesty created him Baron Harley of
Wigmore in the county of Hereford, Earl of Ox
ford, and Earl Mortimer ; with remainder, in default
* This sanguinary attempt the dependents of the new ministry,
in the libels of the day, attempted to charge upon the whig-
party, whp had lately been dismissed from all public employ
ments : but the villain, it was proved, had no connexion with
any man of consequence in the kingdom, and was only a com
mon wretch in the service of the French ministry.
By this ' dearest friend,' in a letter to Swifi, dated August
11, 1714, Harley is thus characterised: " I shall never forgive
myself- for having trusted, so long, to so much real pride
and awkward humility ; to an air of suchfamiliar friendship, and
a heart so void of all tenderness; to such a temper of engrossing
business and power, and so perfect an incapacity to manage
one, with such a tyrannical disposition to abuse the other, &c."

222 ROBERT HARLEY,
of male issue of his own body, to the hefrs male of
Sfr Robert Harley, K. B., his grandfather.*
In the same year, Ukewise, he was appointed Lord
High Treasurer of Great Britain; and on his taking
the usual oaths, Sfr Simon Harcourt, Lord Keepeii
made him the foUowing speech :
" MY LORD,
" The Queen, who does every thing with the
greatest wisdom, has given a proof of it in the ho
nours she has lately conferred on you, which are
exactly suited to your deserts and qualifications.
My Lord, the title which you now bear could not
have been so justly placed on any other of her Mar
jesty's subjects. Some of that ancient blood, which
fills your veins, is derived from the Veres ; and you
have shown yourself as ready to sacrifice it for the
safety of your prince and the good of your country,
and as fearless of danger on the most trying occa
sions, as ever any of that brave and loyal house
were. Nor is that title less suited to youj as it
carries in it a relation to one of the chief seats of
learning; for even your enemies, my Lord, if aiiy
such there stUl are, must own that the love of letters,
and the encouragement of those who excel in them;
is one distinguishing part of your charader.
" My Lord, the high station of Lord Treasurer of
Great Britain, to which her Majesty has caUed you,
* Upon this occasion Le Sack, the famous French danchig-
master (as Swift related, from the statement of Oxford himself)
exclaimed, " Well, I wonder what the Queen could see in him;
for I attended him two years, and he was the greatest duncis
that ever I taught."

EARL OF OXFORD. 223
is the just reward of your eminent services. You
have been the great instrument of restoring pubUc
credit, and reUeving this nation from the heavy pres
sure and ignominy of an immense debt, under which
it languished ; and you are how entrusted with the
power of securing us from a relapse into the same iU
state, out of which you have rescued us.
" This great office, my Lord, is every way worthy
of you ; particulariy on the account of those many
difficulties, with which the faithfid discharge of it
must be unavoidably attended, and which require a
genius Uke yours to master them.
" The only difficulty which even you, my Lord,
may find insuperable, is how to deserve better of
the crown and kingdom after this advancement, than
you did before it."
That the Earl of Oxford, by his abiUties as a
financier, merited the appointment which gave bfrth
to these encomiums, his greatest enemies could not
deny; but his flatterers, particularly Dean Swift, have
hence incorrectly exhibited him as the mirror of
ministersi It is no moderate degree of merit to have
retrieved the pubUc credit of the nation, which had
been reduced to so low an ebb by his predecessors,
that Navy BUls and some other pubUc debts (left un
provided for by parUament, and unUquidated) were
at 40 per cent, discount ; and all the contracts made
by government for naval stores, provisions, and
ammunition were, in Consequence, highly disadvant
ageous to the national purse.
The Earl of Oxford put the Navy BUls in course
of payment, by the introduction of Exchequer BUls ;
and, when these feU to a discount of only three per
1

224. ROBERT HARLEY,
cent., he agreed with the Bank to circulate theni at
par. He, likewise, granted to the pubUc creditors the
exclusive trade to the South Seas, and incorporated
them into a Company, of which he was made
Governor, in gratitude for his having been their
founder and chief director. Upon this occasion
Navy BiUs rose 20 per cent., and were shortly after*
ward at only 10 per cent, discount. His next care
was, to put a stop to the usury of the contractors,
and remitters of money to the army : finaUy, he
estabUshed parUamentary lotteries.*
The first important transaction with regard, to
foreign affairs, in which he was the principal manager,
was the Peace of Utrecht. During the negotiating
of this Treaty, several representations were made to
the Queen against ,many of it's propositions. The
House of Lords, in 1712, complained of the dis
graceful terms offered by France, and of the inso
lence of that court in proposing not to acknowledge.
her Majesty's title to the crown of Great Britain till
after the ratification of the peace.
How differently the minister thought, of the
offered preUminaries, may be coUected from the fol
lowing extract ofthe speech addressed by the Queen
to her parUament on the sixth of June, the same
year: " My Lords and Gentlemen,
" The making of peace and war is undoubtedly
the prerogative of the crown ; yet, such is the just
* With respect to these, it must be left to the reader's
own judgement to determine, whether the reputation of the
Earl of Oxford as an able financier is increased, or dimi--
nished, by their introduction.

EARL OF OXFORD. 225
confidence I place in you, that at the opening of this
session I acquainted you, that a negotiation for a
general peace was begun; and afterward, by messages,
I promised to communicate to you the terms of peace
before they should be concluded.
" In pursuance of that promise, I now come to
let you know, upon what terms that peace may be
made. '« I need not mention the difficulties, which arise
from the very nature of this affair ; and it is but too
apparent, that these difficulties have been increased
by other obstructions, artfuUy contrived to hinder
this great and good work.
" Nothing, however, hath hindered me from steadU]^*
pursmng, in the first place, the true interests of my
own kingdoms ; and I have not omitted any , thing,
which might procure to aU our aUies what is due to
them by treaties, and what is necessary for thefr
security. " The assuring of the Protestant Succession, as by
law established in the House of Hanover, to these
kingdoms being what I have nearest at heart, par
ticular care is taken, not only to have that acknow
ledged in the strongest terms, but to have an addi
tional security by the removal of that person out of
the dominions of France, who hath pretended to
disturb this settlement.
" The apprehensions, that Spain and the West
Indies might be united to France, was the chief in
ducement to begin this war ; and the effectual pre
venting of such an union was the principle, which
I laid down at_ the commencement of this treaty.
Former examples, and the late negotiations, suffi
ciently show how difficult it is to find means to ac-
VOL. V. Q

229 ROBERT HARLEY,
compUsh this work. I would not content myself
with such as are speculative, or depend on treaties
only : I insisted on what was soUd, and to that end
have at hand the power of executing what should be
agreed. " I can therefore now teU you, that France at
last is brought to offer, ' That the Duke of Anjou
shaU for himself and his descendents renounce fpr
ever all claim to the crown of France;' and, that
this important article may be exposed to no hazard,
the performance is to accompany the promise.
" At the same timCj the succession to the crown
of France is to be declared, after the death of the
present Dauphin and his sons, to be in the Duke of
Berri and his sons, in the Duke of Orleans and his
sons, and so on to the rest of the House of Bourbon.
" As to Spain and the Indies, the succession' to
those dominions, after the Duke of Anjou and his
chUdren, is to descend to such prince as shall be
agreed on at the treaty, for ever excluding the rest
of the House of Bourbon^
" For confirming the renunciations and settle
ments before-mentioned, it is farther offered, ' that
they should be ratified in the most strong and so
lemn manner, both in France and Spain ; and thgt
those kingdoms, as weU as aU the other powers
engaged in the present war, shaU be guarantees to
the same.'
" The nature of this proposal is such, that it
executes itself: the interest of Spain is to support
it ; and, in France, the persons to whom that sue
cession is to belong wUl be ready and powerM
enough to vindicate thefr own right.
" France and Spain are now more effectually
5

EARL OF OXFORD. 227
divided than ever. And, thus, by the blessing of
God, wUl a real balance of power be fixed in Europe,
and remain Uable to as few acddents as human affafrs
can be exempted from.
" A treaty of commerce between these kingdoms
and France has been entered upon ; but the excessive
duties laid on some goods, and the prohibitions of
others, make it impossible to finish this work so soon
as were to be desfred. Care is taken, however, to
estabUsh a method of settUng this matter ; and, in
the mean time, provision is made that the same pri
vUeges and advantages, as shaU be granted to any
other nation by France, shaU be granted ih like
manner to us.
" The division of the island of St, Christopher
between us and the French having been the cause of
great inconveniency and damage to my subjects, I
have demanded to* have an absolutie cession made to
me of the whole island ; and France agreeth to this
demand. " Our interest is so deeply concerned in the trado
of North America, that I have used my utinost en
deavours to adjust that article in the most beneficial
manner. France consenteth to restore to us the whole
bay and streights of Hudson, to deUver up the island
of Newfoundland with Plafcentia, and to make an
absolute cession of AnnapoUs with the rest of Nova
Scotia or Acadia. The safety of our home-trade wUl
be the better provided for by the demolishing of
Dunkfrk. " Our Meditert-anean tradcj and the British interest
and influence in those parts, wUl be secured by the
possession of Gibraltar and Port Mahon, with' the
Q 2

228 ROBERT HARLEY,
whole island of Minorca, which are offered to remain.
in my hands.
" The trade to Spain and the West Indies may,.
in general, be settled as it was in the time of the
late King of Spain, Charles II. ; and a particular,
provision made, that all advantages, rights, or privi
leges, which have been granted or may hereafter he
granted by Spain to any other nation, shaU be in
Ulce manner granted to the subjects of Great Britain.
" But the part, which we have borne in the pro
secution of this war, entitUng us to some distinction
in the terms of peace, I have insisted and obtaineOj
that the Assiento (or contract, for furnishing, the
Spanish West Indies with negroes) shall b6 made
with us for the term of thfrty years, in the same
manner as it hath been enjoyed by the French for
ten years past.
" I have not taken upon me to determine the in
terests of our confederates : these must be adjusted
in the Congress at Utrecht, where my best endea
vours shaU be employed, as they have hitherto con
stantly been, to procure to every one of them aUjust
and reasonable satisfaction. In the mean tune, I
think it proper to acquaint you, that France offers
to make the Rhine the barrier of the empfre; to
yield Brisac, the forts of Kehl and Landau, and t»
rase aU the fortresses both on the other side of the
Rhine and in that river.
" As to the Protestant interest in Germany, there
wUl be, on the part of France, no objection to the
re-settUiig thereof on the foot ofthe Treaty of West-
phaUa. " The Spanish Low Countries may go to his Im-
3

EARL OF OXFORD. 229
perial Majesty : the kingdom of Naples and Sardinia,
the duchy of MUan, and the places belonging to Spain
on the coast of Tuscany, may Ukewise be yielded by
treaty of peace to the Emperor.
" As to the kingdom of SicUy, though there re-
maineth no dispute concerning the cession of it by
the Duke of Anjou, yet the disposition thereof is not
yet determined.
" The interests of the States General, with respect
to commerce, are agreed to, as they have been de
manded by thefr own ministers, with the exception
only of some very few species of merchandise ; and
the entfre barrier, as demanded by the States in 1709
from France, except two or three places at most.
" As to these exceptions, several expedients are
proposed ; and I make no doubt, but that this barrier
may be so settled, as to render that repubUc perfectly
secure against any enterprise on the part of France ;
which is the foundation of aU my engagements, upon
this head, with the States.
" The demands of Portugal depending upon the
disposition of Spain, and that article having been
long in dispute, it has not been yet possible to make
any considerable progress therein ; but my plenipo
tentiaries wiU now have an opportunity to assist that
King in his pretensions.
" Those of the King of Pinissia are such as, I
hope, wiU admit of Uttle difficulty on the part of
France; and my utmost endeavours shaU not be
wanting to procure aU I am able to so good an aUy.
" The difference between the barrier demanded for
the Duke of Savoy in 1709, and the offers now made
by France, is very inconsiderable: but that Prince
having so signaUy distmguished hunself in the ser-

gSO ROBERT HARLEY,
vice of the common cause, I am endeavouring to
procure for him stUl greater advantages.
" France has consented that the Elector Palatine
shaU continue his present rank among the electors,;
and remain in possession ofthe Upper Palatinate.
*' The electoral dignity is Ukewise acknowledged
in the House of Hanover, according to the article
inserted, at that Prince's desfre, in my demands.
" And, as to the rest of the aUies, I make no doubt
of being able to secure thefr several interests,"
During the recess of parUament, her Majesty gave
a farther testimony of her approbation of the Earl of
Oxford for his management of this negotiation, by
investing him with the Order ofthe Garter; and in
1713, nine days before the meeting of parUament,
the peace was signed at Utrecht. T^e communicar
tion of this event to both Houses, and afterward to
the pubUc, was received with the greatest demon
strations of joy.
But, in the foUowing year, it was discovered that
the treaty was highly detrimental to the commerce
of Great Britain, especially as it affected the separate
arrangement with Spain; and in July, 1714, the
House of Lords addressed her Majesty, deshingher
to ' use effectual means to procure such alterations to
be made in the same, as might render the Spanish
trade beneficial to her subjects.' The national dis
content broke out, in bitter invectives from the press,
against the advisers of the peace : want of abiUty, or
of integrity, was laid to the charge of the Lord
Treasurer in particular; and^this, combined with the
apprehensions of a secret design at court to bring in
the Pretender, speedUy effected his disgrace, He

EARL OF OXFORD. 2S1
was dismissed from his office twenty days after the
above address ; and the staff was given to the Duke
of Shrewsbury, who was at the same time appointed
Chamberlain of the Household, and Lord Liditenant
of Ireland. The Queen did not long survive this
change of her ministry ; and, as she had been in a
great measure compelled to it by the clamor of her
subjects, it was supposed to have hastened her death.
The Earl of Oxford, however, was nominated by
George L one of the Nineteen, who with the seven
great Officers of State (agreeably to an Act of the
late Queen) were to constitute a Regency, tiU her
successor should be foUy seated on the throne.
But on opening the first session of tiie new parUa
ment, in 1715, his Majesty strongly animadverted on
the insecurity and other disadvantages of the late
peace, which he termed 'a fatal cessation of arms.'
This laid the foundation for an impeachment of the
Earl of Oxford, by the Commons, for high treason and
other high crimes and misdemeanors; and, on the
sixteenth of July, the House of Lords committed him
to the Tower. The Duke of Ormond, Ukewise, Lord
BoUngbroke, the Earl of Strafford, and Mr. Prior,
who had aU participated in advising or negotiating
the criminated peace, were impeached at the same
time. The two former fled to France ; and Strafford
and Prior were discharged: but Lord Oxford re
mained a prisoner in the Tower tiU the first of July,
1717, when he was brought to his trial in Westmin
ster HaU. The Lords resolving however, as a preU-
minary measure, that the Commons should make
good the two articles of high treason before they pro
ceeded on the numerous charges of high crimes and
misdemeanors, and the Commons refusing to assent

232 ROBERT HARLEY,
to this regulation, a disagreement took place between
the two Houses : and the latter, instead of sending
thefr managers to substantiate their charges, abruptly
adjouming to the thfrd of July, the Lords after pro.
clamation made three several times for his accusers
to appear, discharged the Earl from the impeach
ment, and ordered that he should be immediately
set at Uberty.*.
His Lordship from this time passed bis days in
retirement, and in the occasional society of men of
letters, to whom he had always been a patron and a
friend. Before he was created a peer, his Ubrary was fixed
at Wimpole in Cambridgeshire, his usual place of
residence, whence he frequently visited his friends
at Cambridge. His attachment, indeed, to Uterature
is abundantly evinced by the indefatigable pains
which he took, and the immense sums which he
expended, in forming what Pope emphatidaUy pro
nounced ' one of the finest libraries in Europe.' f
* Some writers have falsely stated, that ' he was acquitted by
his peers ;' but this is mistaking the case : for the charge was not
investigated, nor any evidence produced upon the s . jject, the
difference between the two Houses having put an end to the
judicial proceedings.
f His Collection of Manuscripts was purchased by govern-
ment for 10,000?., and is now deposited in the British Museum.
A valuable Catalogue of them, in two volumes folio, was drawn
up in 1759, principally by tbe celebrated Humphry Wanley;
and, in 1800, a second was executed in three volumes folio
by the Rev. Robert Nares, which Mr. Dibdin (the great
authority in bibliography) represents as ' the most complete
that has yet , appeared in England.' His books were sold
to Thomas Osborne, a bookseller, for 13,000?. ; a sum,, which
must excite the astonishment aiid the regret of the present
age, when it is added that Lord Oxford gave 18,000/. for the

EARL OF OXFORD. 23S
He died in May 21, 1724, and left a son, who suc
ceeded him in his honours and estate. His daughter,
binding only of the least part of them! In 174.3-4 appeared
an account of this Collection in four volumes (the fifth not
properly belonging to it) of which the first two were written
in Latin by Johnson, and the third and fourth, a repetition of
the two former in English, by Oldys ; and, " notwithstanding
it's defects," says Mr. Dibdin, " it is the best catalogue of a
large library of which we can boast." The bibliographer's ana
lysis of the Harleian Library, as extremely curious, is here sub
joined : Volumes.
Divinity, Greek, Latin, French^ and Italian  about 2,000
 English  '.  2,500
f Italy  6001
France  500 I
History and Antiquities, including \ Spain  150} 4,000
1 Germany and |
[.Holland . .... 250 j
Books of Prints, Sculpture, and Drawings  articles 20,000
Collection of Portraits  *  10,000
' Anatomy
philosophy. Chemistry, and Medicine,
comprehending

:<i

3,100

590

AstronomyMathematics
^ Alchemy
-.  Foreign  2,500
.:  English  600 J
_, 1 ,-.1 1 J rLatin, French, Italian,-)
Geography, Chronology, and I ,' . ' „„ I
f~r ,TT-. S and Spanish.. 290 J-
General History  J _, ,. , "^ „ I
•^ ^English  300 J
Voyages and Histories relating to the ("Foreign 4001 „„«
East and West Indies  ^English 4003
Greek and Latin Classics, Grammars, and Lexicons .... 2,400
Books printed on vellum: folio, 70 and Upward; quarto'i
40; octavo, 100.  J ^^^
Eiiglilh Poetry, Romances, and Novels. ... ......;... 900
Livres Francois, Ital. et Hispan  700
Parliamentary Affairs and Trials  400
Trade and Commerce  300
Seside fifty one other departments, which st the moderate com*

234 ROBERT HARLEY,
who in 1712 married the Marquis of Carmarthen,
died in chUdbed of a son (subsequently, Duke of
Leeds) in the foUowing year, aged 28.*
putation of eighty volumes only in each, amount collectively t»
4,080, and according to Mr. Gough 400,000 pamphlets !
Osborne was accused of * having rated his books, in the Sale-
Catalogue, at too high a price.' His reply, or rather Dr. Johnson's,
was  " If I have set a high value upon books ; if I have vainly
imagined literature to be more valuable than it really is, or idly
hoped to revive a taste well nigh extinguished, I know not why
I should be persecuted with clamor and invective ; since I shall
only suffer by my mistake, and be obliged to keep those books,
which I was in hopes of selling." The fact was, that his charges
were extremely moderate ; and the sale of the books was so
very slow, that Johnson assured Boswell, ' there was not much
gained by the bargain.' In his Catalogue of 1748, four years
after the Harleian sale, occurs a copy of the Aldine Plato of
1513 upon vellum at twenty .guineas, for which Lord Oxford
gave a hundred ! and some of the scarcest books in English
literature at two, or three, or four shillings, for which arp now
given three times the number of pounds ! I
Among other scholars, it may added, the celebrated Ockley,
Professor of Arabic at Cambridge, was admitted to his table;
and there probably, through his inexperience in the more polished
attentions of life, committed himself by some mal-a-propos ob
servations. He was charged with " having given such extreme
offence by some uncourtly answers to some gentlemen at my
Lord Treasurer's table, that it would be in vain to make any
farther application to him." From this, as- well as the addi
tional charge of sottishness, in an apologetic letter to Harley
he fully vindicated himself: and to the honour of his noble
patron it should be mentioned, that his convivial clumsiness did
not interrupt Harley's regard ; for, several years afterward, he
valued tbe correspondence of Ockley.
* Upon this occasion. Swift addressed the afflicted father in
the following consolatory epistle, one of the finest that ever was
written ;
' My Lord, jVod. 21, 1713.
• Your Lordship is the person in the world to whom every
body ought to be silent upon such an occasion as this, which i»

EARL OF OXFORD. 235
The characters drawn of this great statesman, as
to his poUtical accompUshments (for his private life
only to be supported by the greatest wisdom and strength of
mind ; wherein, God knows, the wisest and best of us, who
would presume to offer their thoughts, are far your inferiors.
It is true, indeed, that a great misfortune is apt to weaken the
mind, and disturb the understanding. This, indeed, might be
some pretence to us to administer our consolations, if we had
been wholly strangers to the person gone. But, my Lord, who
ever had the honour to know her wants a comforter as much as
your Lordship : because, though their loss is not so great, yet
they have not the same firmness and prudence to support the
want of a friend, a patroness, a benefactor, as you have to sup
port that of a daughter. My Lord, both religion arid reason
forbid me to have the least concern for that lady's death, upon
her own account : and he must be an ill Christian, or a perfect
stranger to her virtues, who would not wish himself (with all
submission to God Almighty's will) in her condition. But your
Lordship, who has lost such a daughter, and we who have lost
such a friend, and the world which has lost such an example,
have in our several degrees greater cause to lament, than per
haps was ever given by any private person before : for, my Lord,
I have sat down to think of every amiable quality that could
enter into the composition of a lady, and could not single out
one, which she did not possess in as high a perfection as human
nature is capable of. But as to your Lordship's own particular,
as it is an unconceivable misfortune to have lost such a daughter,
so it is a possession which few can boast of, to have bad such a
daughter. I have- often said to your Lordship, that " I never
knew any one by many degrees so happy in their domestics as
you : " and I affirm you are so still, though not by so many
degrees ; whence it is very obvious, that your Lordship should
reflect upon what you have left, and not upon what you have
lost. ' To say the truth, my Lord, yoii began to be too happy for
a mortal ; much more happy, than is usual with the dispensa
tions of Providence long to continue. You had been the great
insti^ument of preserving your country from foreign and domestic
ruin: you have had the felicity of establishing your family in
the greatest lustre, without any obligation to the bounty of your

236 ROBERT HARLEY,
aU aUow to have been exemplary) are strikingly dif.
ferent. He has been alternately pronounced a fiend
or an angel, as hostUity or amity held the pen. Lord
BoUngbroke, in his ' Letter to Sfr WiUiam Wynd-
ham,' is an instance of the first, pronouncing him ' a
negUgent minister, and whoUy unequal to his station.
Puzzled and embarrassed in conversation, he was
constantly (if we may trust the same prejudiced au
thority) scribbling verses from court to the Scriblerus
club (Swift, Arbuthnot, Pamell, and Pope, and some
times Gay), frequented thefr parties almost every
night, and would engage in idle talk even on the
crisis of the most important concerns.' The foUowing
Unes of Pope no less verify the last :
' And sure, if aught below the seats divine
Can touch immortals, 'tis a soul like thine :
A soul supreme, in each hard instance tried,
' Above all pain, all anger, and all pride ;
The rage of power, the blast of public breath.
The lust of lucre, and the dread of death.
prince, or any industry of your own : you have triumphed over
the violence and treachery of your enemies, by your courage and
abilities ; and, by the steadiness of your temper, over the in.
constancy and caprice of your friends. Perhaps, your Lordsbip
has felt too much complacency within yourself, upon this uni.
versal success ; and God Almighty, who would not disappoint
your endeavours for the public, thought fit to punish you with
a domestic loss, where he knew your heart was most exposed;
and at the same time has fulfilled his own wise purpose by re?
warding, in a better life, that excellent creature he has taken
from you.'
' I know not, my Lord, why I write this to you, nor hardly
what I am writing. I am sure, it is not from any compliance
with form ; it is not from thinking, that I can give your Loi'd-
ship any ease. I think it was an impulse upon me, that I should
say something; and whether I shall send you what I have writ-
ten, I am yet in doubt, &c.*

EARL OF OXFORD. 237
In vain to deserts thy retreat is made ;
The muse attends thee to thy silent shade :
'Tis hers the brave man's latest steps to trace,
Ee-judge his acts, and dignify disgrace.
When interest calls off all her sneaking train.
And all th' obliged desert, and all the vain ;
She waits or to the scaffold, or the cell.
When the last lingering friend has bid farewell.
E'en now, she shades thy evening walk with bays,,.
No hireling she, no prostitute of praise :
E'en now, observant of the parting ray.
Eyes the calm sun-set of thy various day ;
Through fortune's cloud one truly great can see,
Nor fears to tell that Moktimer is he.*
The reader wUl perhaps not be displeased to read
the more quaUfied panegyric of Dean Swift : f ' The
Earl of Oxford is a person of as much virtue, as can
possibly consist with the love of power ; and his love
of power is no greater, than what is common to men
of his superior capacities : neither did any man ever
* These beautiful lines form part of a Poetical Epistle, which
Pope addressed to Lord Oxford in 1721 with a copy of Par-
nell's Poems and a prose letter, requesting permission to dedi
cate to him that work. — " All I shall say for it (he adds) is,
that 'tis the only dedication I ever writ, and shall be the only
one, whether you accept it or not ; for I will not bow the knee
to a less man than my Lord Oxford, and I expect to see no
greater in my time." To this Lord Oxford, among other things,
said in reply : — " Ybu ask my consent, &c. To what straits doth
this reduce me I I look back, indeed, to those evenings I have
usefully and pleasantly spent with Mr. Pope, Mr. Parnell, Dean
Swift, the Doctor (Arbuthnot) &c. I should be glad the world
knew you admitted me to your friendship ; and, since your
affection is too hard for your judgement, I am contented to let
the world know how well Mr. Pope can write upon a barren
subject." f Who addressed to him his ' Proposal for correcting, im
proving, and ascertaining the English Tongue.'

238 ROBERT HARLEY,
appear to value it less after he had oljtained it, or
exert it with more moderation. He is the only
instance, that ever feU within my memory or obser
vation, of a person passing from a private Ufe, through
the several stages of greatness, without any perceiv
able impression upon his temper or behaviour. As
his own bfrth was iUustrious, being descended from
the hefrs-general of the Veres and the Mortimers, so
he seemed to value that accidental advantage in
himself, and others, more than he would pretend to
deserve. He abounded in good-nature and good-
humour, although subject to passion (as I have heard
it afiirmed by others, and owned by himself) which,
however, he kept under the strictest government, till
toward the end of his ministry, when he began to
grow soured and to suspect his friends ; and, per
haps, thought it not worth his pains to manage any
longer. He was a great favourer of men of wit and
leaming, particularly the former, whom he caressed
without distinction of party, and could not endure
to think that , any of them should be his enemies ;
and it was his good fortune, that none of them evei
appeared to be so : at least, if one may judge by the
libels and pamphlets pubUshed against him, which
he frequently read, by way of amusement, with a
most unaffected indifference. Neither do I remember
ever to have endangered his good opinion so much,
as by appearing uneasy when the dealers m that
kind of writing first began to pour out thefr scurrili
ties agauist me ; which he thought, was a weakness
altogether inexcusable in a man of vfrtue and Uberal
education. He had the greatest variety of know
ledge, that I have any where met; was a perfect
master ofthe learned languages, and weU skUled in

EARL OF OXFORD. 289
lUvinity. He had a prodigious memory, and a most
exact judgement. In drawing up any. state-paper,
no man had more, proper thoughts, or put them in
so clear and strong a Ught. Although his stUe were
not always correct, which however he knew how
to mend, yet often, to save time, he would leave
the smaUer alterations to others. I have heard that
he spoke but seldom in parUament, and then rather
witfrart than eloquence : but no man equaUed him
in the knowledge of our constitution, the reputation
whereof made him be chosen Speaker to three suc
cessive parUaments ; which office I have often heard
his enemies aUow him to have executed with univer
sal applause. His sagacity was such, that I could
produce very amazing instances of it, if they were not
unseasonable. In aU difficulties, he immediately found
the true point that was to be pursued, and adhered
to it:* and one or two others in the ministry have
confessed very often to me, that ' after having con
demned his opinion, they found him in the right
and themselves in the wrong.' He was utterly a
stranger 'to fear; and, consequently, had a presence
of mind upon aU emergencies. His UberaUty and
contempt of money were such, that he almost ruined
his estate whUe he was in employment ; yet his
avarice for the pubUc was so great, that it consisted
neither with the present cormptions of the age, nor
the cfrcumstances of the times. He was seldom mis
taken in his judgement of men, and therefore not apt
to change a good or UI opinion by the representation
* His great maxim was, that ' wisdom in public affairs was
not yvhat is commonly . believed, the forming of schemes with
remote views, but the making use of such incidents as happen.'
(Swift to Archbishop King.)

240 ROBERT HARLEY,
of others, except toward the end of his ministry,.
He was affable and coiirteous, extremely, easy and
agreeable in conversation, and altogether disengag^dj
regular in his Ufe, with great appearance of piety;
nor ever guilty of any expressions, that could possibly
tend to what was indecent or profane. His imperr
fections were at least as obvious, although not so
numerous, as his virtues. He had an afr of secrecy in
his manner and countenance, l^ no means proper for
a greiat minister, because it warns aU men to prepare
against it. He often gave no answer at aU, and very
seldom a dfrect one : and I the rather blame this re»
servedness of temper, because I have known a very
different practice succeed much better ; of which)
among others, the late Earl of Sunderland, and the
present Lord Somers, persons of great abiUties, are
remarkable instances, who used to talk in so frank
a manner that they seemed to discover the bottom
of thefr hearts, and by that appearance of confidence
would easUy unlock the breasts of .others. But the
Earl of Oxford pleads, in excuse of this charge, that
* he hath seldom or never communicatedj^ any thing
Which was of importance to be concealed, wherein
he hath not been deceived by the vanity, treachery*
or indiscretion of those he discovered it to.' Anothet ,
of his imperfections, universaUy known and com
plained of, was procrastination or delay;* which .
was, doubtless, natural to him, although he often
bore the blame without the guUt, and when the
remedy was not in his power ; for never were princ4
* " The greatest minister I ever knew," says Swift in his
• Treatise on Good Manners, &c.,' " was the greatest trespasser
against punctuality; by which all his business doubled upon himj
and placed him in a continual arrear."

EARL OF OXFORD. 241
and minister better matched than his sovereign and
he upon that article ; and 'therefore, in the disposal
of emjdoyments, wherein the Queen was very abso
lute, a year would often pass before they could come
to a determination.. I remember he was, likewise,
heavUy charged with the common court-vice, of pro
mising very liberaUy and seldom performing; of
which, although I cannot altogether acquit him, yet
I an#confident his intentions were generaUy better
than his disappointed soUdtors would beUeve. It
may be Ukewise said of him, that he certainly did
-not value, or did not understand, the art of acqufr-
ing friends ; having made very few during the time
of his power, and contracted a great number of ene
mies. Some of us used to observe, that ' those whom
he taUi:ed well of, or suffered to be often near him,
were not m a situation of much advantage ; and that
his mentioning others with contempt, or dislike, was
no hindrance at aU to thefr preferment' I have
dwelt the longer upon this great man's charader,
because I have observed it so often mistaken by the
wise reasoners of both parties : besides, having had
the honour, for almost four years, of a nearer ac
quaintance with him than usuaUy happens to men of
my level, and this without the least mercenary ob
Ugation, I thought it lay in my power, as I am sure
•it is in my wUl, to represent him to the world with
impartiaUty and truth.'
He wrote ' An Essay upon PubUc Credit,' inserted
in .the ' Somers Tracts ; ' and to him, also, are as
cribed- the « Essay upon Loans,' and the ' Vindica
tion of the Rights of the Commons of England,'
signed « Humphrey Mackworth.'* Several of his
Letters are preserved, in the Harleian MSS. ; and a
VOL. v. B

242 ROBERT HARLEY,
few jocular verses, in the Correspondence between
Swift and his Friends. '^
" Oxford," says Mr. Archdeacon Coxe, " was un-
inpeachable in his private character, never offenduig
against moraUty either in conversation or action, a
tender husband, and a good father, highly disinter.
ested and generous. He prided himself in his high
descent, was stiff" and formal in his deportment, and
forbidding in his manner. He was learned* and
pedantic ; embarrassed and inelegant both in speak
ing and writing. He was equaUy an enemy to plea
sure and business, extremely dUatory, and fond of
procrastination ; timid in public affafrs, yet intrepid
when his own person was concerned; jealous of power,
indefatigable in promoting the petty intrigues of the
court, but negUgent in things of importance, a whig
in his heart and a tory from ambition ; too ready for
temporary convenience to adopt measures he disap
proved, yet unwUUng whoUy to sacrifice his real sen
timents to interest or party ; affecting the most pro
found secrecy in aU poUtical transactions, and mys
terious in the most trifling occurrences. He was
liberal in making promises, yet breaking them with
out scruple ; a defect, which arose more from facility
of temper than from design. He corresponded at the
same time with the dethroned famUy and the house
of Hanover, and was therefore neither trusted, nor
respected, by either party. The only point, in which
he and his coUegue BoUngbroke agreed, was the
love of Uterature and the patronage of learned, men,
which rendered their administration eminently illus
trious."

EARL OF OXFORD. 243
EXTRACTS.
Letter to Dean Swift just before the loss of his
Staff. ' July 27, 1714.
* If I teU my dear friend the value I put upon his
undeserved friendship, it wiU look Uke stispecting
you or myself Though I have had no power since
July 215, 1713, I beUeve now as a private man, I
may prevaU to renew your Ucence of absence, condi-
tionaUy you wiU be present with me ; for to-morroW
morning I shaU be a private person. When I have
settled my domestic affairs here, I go to Wimpole ;
thence, alone, to Herefordshfre. If I have not tfred
you, tHe-a-ttte, fling away so much time upon one
who loves you. And, I beUeve, in the mass of souls
ours were placed near each other. I send you an
imitation of Dryden, as I went to Kensington :
' To serve with love
And shed your blood,
Approved is above :
But here below ,
Th' examples show,
'Tis fatal to be good.'

' Aug. 6, 1717.
* Two years' retreat has made me taste the con
versation of my dearest fiiend with a greater reUsh,
than even at the time of my being charmed with it
in our frequent journeys to Windsor. Three of your
letters'have come safe to my hands : the first about
two years since (that, my son keeps as a famUy-
monument) ; the otljier two arrived since the first of
July. My heart is ofteu with you ; but I delayed
R 2

244 ROBERT HARLEY.
writing, in expectation of giving a perfect answer
about my going to Brampton : but the truth is, the
warmth of rejoicing in these parts is so far from
abating, that I am persuaded by my friends to go
into Cambridgeshfre, where you are too just not to
beUeve you wiU be welcome before any one in the
worid. The longing your friends have to see you
must be submitted to the judgement yourself makes
of all cfrcumstances. At present, this seems to be a
cooler cUmate, than your island is likely to be when
they assemble, &c. Our impatience to see you should
not draw you into uneasiness. We long to embrace'
you, if you find it may be of no inconvenience tQ
yourself,'

245

sm ISAAC NEWTON.*

[1642—1726,]

Mr. ISAAC NEWTON, the father of the PhUo.
sopher, was descended from an ancient famUy, which
resided successively at Newton in Lancashfre, and
Westby and Woolsthorpe in Lincolnshfre. At the
latter place, a hamlet of Colsterworth, this prodigy of
phUosophical leaming was bom on Christmas Day,
1642, about three months after his father's death.
Two years afterward, his mother (a lady of an
ancient family of the name of Ayscough) engaged in
a second marriage, by which she had three other
chUdren. Being a woman of good sense, she did
not neglect to take a becoming care of her son's
education. At twelve years of age, she put him to
the Grammar School at Grantham, where he was
remarked for his mechanical inventions and models ;
having even discovered a rude method of estimating
the course of the wind, by observing how much far*
ther he could leap in it's dfrection than the contrary
way. But, as his mother did not intend to breed
him a scholar, after he had remained there some
* Authorities. Biographia Britannica, Pemberton'S • Re
view of Newton's Philoseyphy,' Birch's ' History qf the Royal
Society,' and Whiston's Memoirs.

246 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
years, she took him home, that he might betime?
become interested in his own affafrs, and be the
sooner able to manage them himself Upon trial,
however, he showed so little disposition to tum his
thoughts that way, and at the same time attached
himself so closely to his studies, that on the sugges
tion of an uncle of his, a clergyman, she thought it
best to send him back to Grantham ; whence, at
eighteen years of age, he removed to Trinity Col
lege, Cambridge, where his uncle above-mentioned
had been a member, and stiU retained many
friends. In the beginning of the seventeenth century, the
study of the mathematics had been introduced into
that University. The elements of geometry and alge
bra thenceforth became, generaUy, one branch of a
tutor's lectures ; and Newton, on his admission, found
Mr. (afterward Dr.) Barrow FeUow of his College.
Mr. Lucas, also, dying shortly afterward, left by his
wiU an appointment for founding his mathematical
lecture, which was settled in 1663, and honoured by
Barrow as it's first Professor.
Newton therefore, by tuming his thoughts to ma
thematical studies, seems to have compUed at once
with his own particular passion, and the general
taste of the place ; with a genius however infinitely
superior to aU who had gone before him, or who
have foUowed.
In his outset, he took up EucUd's « Elements ;' and
after once mnning; his eye over it, became master of
every proposition. The youthfol vigour of his un
derstanding would not suffer him cooUy to contem
plate the singular exceUence of that author's mode
of demonstration, by which the whole series and

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 247
connexion of the truths advanced is continuaUy kept
in view. This neglect he discovered, and kmented,
in his riper age : but his ingenuousness in confessing
to Dr. Pemberton an error, which otherwise nobody
could have surmised, and that too after he was
equally fuU of years and honours, was in him only
a slender instance of the most amiable simpUcity of
disposition. The truth is, when he first went to Cambridge,
the popular theorist was Des Cartes, who had greatly
extended the bounds of algebra in the way of ex
pressing geometrical Unes by algebraical equations,
and had thus introduced a new method of treating
geometry. This new analytical way Newton speedUy exa*
mined, and appreciated; but having sounded the depth
of that author's understanding, without feeUng the
extent of his own, he proceeded to read those pieces
of Dr. WaUis which were then printed, and particu
larly his ' Arithmetica Infnitorum.' Here he first
found what set his boundless talents to work, and
led him by degrees to the invention of his ' New
Method of Infinite Series and Fluxions,' which
after about two years' close appUcation to the best
mathematical writers then extant, he pubUshed in
1665. About this period he observed, that the principal
Professors were busied in making improvements upon
telescopes ; and he threw aside aU abstract specula
tions, to engage in this more useful study.
Des Cartes in his ' Dioptrics,' the best of his phi
losophical performances, conceiving that light was
homogeneous, had upon this principle first discovered
the laws of refraction, and demonstrated that ' the
5

243 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
perfecting of telescopes depended upon grinding thp
glasses in elUptic, paraboUc, or hyperboUc figures.'
This set the most enunent EngUshmen to work,
among others Mr. (afterward Sir Christopher) Wrenj
who had recently made considerable advances to
ward completing what was thought so usefol an in
vention. Mr. Newton therefore, whose private affafrs had
for a short time drawn him into Lincolnshire, on his
return to coUege in 1666 appUed himself to the
grinding of optic glasses, under the popular conric-
tion of the homogeneity of Ught. He next procured
a glass prism, in order to try the celebrated pheno
mena of colours, not long before discovered by Gri-
maldi ; and was highly deUghted at first with view
ing the vivid brightness of the colours produced by
this experiment. He was surprised, however, to see
in an oblong form what^ according to the received
rule of refractions, ought to have been cfrcular. At
first, he thought the irregularity might possibly be
acddental ; but this was a question, which he could
not quit without farther satisfaction. He, therefore^
presently invented an infaUible method of dedding
it, and this produced his ' New Theory of Light
and Colours."
But the theory alone, unexpected and surprising
as the discovery was, did not satisfy him ; he rather
considered the use, to which it might be converted for
the improving of telescopes, his primary object. To
this end, having now discovered Ught to be an hete-
rq^neous mixture of dfrferently-refrangible rays, he
computed the errors thence arismg ; and finding them
greatly to exceed those occasioned by the cfrcur
iar figure of the glasses, he laid aside his glag*-

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 24<l
works, and took the subjed of reflexions into con
sideration. He now Understood that optical instmments might
be brought to any imaginable degree of perfection,
provided a reflecting substance could be discovered,
which would poUsh as finely as glass, reflect as much
Ught as glass transmits, and admit of being ground
to a paraboUc figure. These conditions appeared to
him to involve difliiculties almost insuperable ; parti
cularly when he farther considered, pat every irre
gularity in a reflecting superficies makes the rays
deviate five or six times more from thefr due course,
than simUar irregularities in a refracting one.
Amidst these thoughts, he was driven from Cam
bridge by the plague; and more than two years
elapsed, before he m9.de any farther progress on the
subject. Far, however, from wasting his hours in the
retfrement of the country, he there first started the
hint which gave rise to his immortal work, the
' Principia.' The consideration of accelerated motion in the
Method of Fluxions above-mentioned, which he was
stUl improving, unavoidably led his thoughts to the
subject of Gravity, the effect of which is an instance
of that motion in nature. The faU of an apple, as
he was sitting alone in his garden, is usually repre
sented as the proximate cause of his important series
of inquiries. This power not being sensibly dimi
nished at the greatest distance from the centre of the
earth to which we can rise, he concluded that it
must extend much farther than was usuaUy thought ;
perhaps to the moon ; and, if so, her motion ;nust
be influenced by it : probably, she is retained by it
in her orbit though at her distd;hfce it may diffeir
6

250 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
greatly in efficacy from that which it exerts near the
surface. To estimate the degree of this diminution, he
considered that if the moon be retained in her orbit
by the force of gravity, the primary planets are un
doubtedly retained in thefrs by a simUar power ; and
by comparing the several periods with the intervals by
which they are respectively separated from the sun,
he found that upon his hypothesis that force must
vary in the inverse dupUcate proportion of the
distances. This he inferred, by supposing them to move round ^
the sun in circles, from which indeed thefr orbits,
in general, do not greatly differ. But as he adopted
the erroneous estimate of the day, which aUotted
only 60 English instead of 69-t niUes to a degree, he
wds led into conclusions so inaccurate, that he laid
aside for some time aU farther inquiries.*
This calm abandonment of a favourite theory,
founded upon the best astronomical observations of
the planetary system, is an iUustrious proof of a
temper admirably fitted for phUosophical inquiries.
By Voltafre it is recorded, as an anecdote of particu
lar use in the history of the human mind ; showing at
once, both the exactness necessary in these sciences,
and the disinterestedness of Newton in his search
after truth.
In 1667, he was chosen FeUow of his CoUege,
and took the degree of M. A. His thoughts were
now again engaged upon his reflecting telesc(q)e,
* It is indeed not a little surprising, tbat he should be unac
quainted with Norwood's ' Mensuration,' which had been made
in 1635 ; and still more so, that he did not inform himself of
it, when he returned to Cambridge shortly afterward.

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 251
which he was anxious to complete; and in 1668,
having considered Mr. Gregory's suggestion (in his
Optica Promota'') of a hole in the midst of the
object-metal to transmit the Ught to an eye-glass
placed behind it, he resolved first, as an improvement
Upon this design, to place the eye-glass at the side of
the tube rather than in it's middle : he then made a
small instrument, with an object-metal spherically
concave. This, however, was merely a rude essay,
as he wanted a good poUsh for the metal. But his
inquiries upon the subject were interrupted by Dr.
Bartow's resigning to him the Mathematical Chafr
at Cambridge in November, 1669-
In the mean time, an unexpected occasion drew
from him a discovery of the great improvement,
which he had made in geometry by the help of his
hew analysis.
Lord Brounker, President of the Royal Socidy,
had pubUshed in the preceding year a quadrature of
the hyperbola in an infinite series ; which, with the
help of Dr. WaUis' division, was soon afterward de
monstrated hy Mr. Nicholas Mercator, in his ' Lo»
garithmo-technica,' in 1668.
This hook presently came into the hands of Dr.
Barrow, then at Trinity CoUege, Cambridge ; who,
recoUecting that he had previously seen in Newton's
writings a similar series, more generaUy comprehend
ing aU sorts of curves, communicated to him Merca-
f or's invention : upon the sight of which, Newton
immediately produced his papers containing the
' Analysis per cequationes numero terminorum in'
fnitas.' The Doctor, amazed at the performance, in
stantly transmitted an account of it to his friend

252 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
Mr. GoUins ; at whose ' request, he subsequently ob
tained the author's leave to send him the manuscript
itself CoUins took 3. copy of it before he returned
it to the owner, and thus enabled himself to com
municate other transcripts to the most eminent of
his mathematical acquaintance. Notwithstanding
tins, however, it was not tUl many years afterward,
that the fuU extent of the invention was accurately
understood. It was natural (according to M. FonteneUe) to ex
pect that Newton, upon seeing Mereator's book,
would have been forward to open his treasure, and
thus to secure to himself the glory of being the first
discoverer. But this was not his way of thinkuig:
on the contrary, we know from his own words, that he
thought Mercator had entfrely discovered his secret,
or that others would do so before he was of a proper
age to address the pubUc. The empty character of
doing what nobody else could do, he looked upon as
a chUd's bauble : his views were far higher, and more
extensive ; his fome he wished to rest upon a more
substantial foundation.
These speculative inventions therefore, however
ingenious, were kept by him as necessary tools and
implements in his researches into the works of Na
ture. There, he knew, they would be of use to him ;
and he knew too how to use them there to advanr
tage : in these views, indeed, only it was, that he set
any particular value upon them. Nay, he was now
actuaUy makmg this use of them, in discovermg the
properties of Light.
As his thoughts had been for some time chiefly
employed upon Optics, he made his discoveries in
that science the subject of his lectures for the three

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 2S3
first years after he was appointed Mathematical Pro
fessor. Previously to his finishing these lectures, he was
chosen FeUow of the Royal Sodety in January,
1671-2 ;* when, having now brought his theory of
Light and Colours to great perfection, he commu
nicated it to his new coUegues. It was subse
quently pubUshed in thefr ' Transactions,' Febmary,
1672. Notwithstanding aU these precautions, however, in
preparing it for pubUc view, it was so entfrely new,
and demanded such a degree of accuracy in making
the experiments upon which it was founded, and such
a subtUty of reasoning also upon those experiments,
that it encountered opposers wherever it made it's
appearance. He was thus unexpectedly drawn into various
disputes, which gave him considerable annoyance.
Froin this specimen, he clearly inferred what would
be the consequence of giving the rest of his theory,
where he knew there must appear so many yet more
astonishing truths. He, therefore, laid aside his Op
tical Lectures, after having prepared them for the
press with the design of pubUcation. He had re
ferred, it appears, for some of thefr demonstrations,
to his 'Analysis bylnfinite Series;' and his inten
tion was, that the lectures should be accompanied by
that work: for which purpose he had revised, en
larged, and remoulded it. He had, likewise, lUus
trated it with a great variety of examples, and set
• It is a remarkable circumstance, that by an Order of Coun
cil, dated January 28, 1674-5, he was excused from making the
usual weekly payment of one shilling, on his own representation
•f his indigence!

254 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
the whole Method of Fluxions in a new Ught. He
had not, however, completed his design, when the
decree against pubUcation was passed*
In this determination, he evidently acted against
his own fame. But that motive had Uttle weight with
him, when thrown into the balance against the en
joyment of unruffled serenity ; a blessing, which he
justly valued above aU the glory, which mathematics
or philosophy could confer.
In this dispasition of inind he resumed the consi
deration of his Reflecting Telescope, the most im
mediately useful part of his Optics : and obserring
that there was no absolute necessity for the paraboHc
figure of the glasses, since metals accurately spheriT
cal would bear as great apertures as could he po
Ushed, he completed another instrument of the same
kind ; which, though only six inches long, exhibited
Jupiter distinctly round, as also his four satelUtes,
and Venus homed. This he sent to the Royal So
ciety at thefr request, with a description of it which
appekred in thefr ' Transactions' for 1672.
There are likewise, in the two immediately suh'
sequent numbers (82 and 83) several farther: ob
servations relative to this new invention, commu
nicated by him with the view of seconding the de-
^gn of the Society, who wished to recommend it to
some skUful artists for farther improvement, with re
spect to the two particulars StiU wanting, a proper
composition of metal and a good poUsh. But theh
attempts, unfortunately, faUed of success. The in
vention in consequence lay dormant, tUl Hadley made
his Newtonian Telescope in 1723.
The same year he pubUshed,, at Cambridge, ' Ber-
nardi Varenii Geographia Generalise in qud Affec*

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 255
fiones Generales Telluris explicantur, aucta et il-
lustrata ab Is. Newton' *
About the same time, Ukewise, he had some
thoughts of pubUshing Kinckhuysen's ' Algebra,' but
he subsequently dropped his design.
From this period tUl 1679, he mainta,ined a cor
respondence by letters with Oldenburg (Secretary of
the Royal Society), John ColUns, Flamsteed, and Dr.
HaUey, upon a variety of curious and usefol subjects.
In 1675, Mr. Hooke laying claim to some of his
discoveries in his ' New Theory of Light and Colours,*
he asserted his right with a becoming spirit ; and the
following year, at the request of M. Leibnitz, he
wrote two letters f to be communicated to him, ex
planatory of his invention of Infinite Series, in which
he also stated how far he had iittproved it by his
' Method of Fluxions : ' but the method itself he stUl
concealed, by transposing into an alphabetical order
the letters which constituted it's two fundalnental
problems. This was done, that he might be at U-
berty sUghtly to alter his method, if any other should
find it out.
In 1676-7^ he discovered the grand proposition
that, ' by a centripetal force varying inversely as the
square of the distance, a planet must revolve in an
elUpse about a centre of force placed in one of the
fod, and with radU drawn to that centre desaibe
areas proportional to the times.'
In 1680, he made several astronomical observa
tions upon the Comet, which then appeared; and
• This edition was reprinted in 1687; and at a later period
with large additions (chiefly from Newton's papers) by Dr.
Jurin. *•
t Inserted in Collins' ' Commereium Epistolicum.'

256 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
which for some time, against the opinion of Mr.
Flamsteed, he regarded as two different bodies, of
that description.
The consequences of the theory of centripetal and
centrifogal forces becoming about this time the sub
ject of much inqufry, he received a letter from Mr.
Hooke, explaining what must be the Une described
by a faUing body, supposed to be moved circularly
by the diurnal motion of the earth, and perpendicu
larly by the power of gravity. This led him to in
quire, what vTould be the real figure in which such a
body must move, in the prosecution of which he re
sumed his former investigation concerning the moon:
and Picart having in 1679 accurately explored the
measure of a degree, he was now enabled to ascer
tain, that this body was retained in her orbit merely
by the power of gravity. Hence it appeared, that
this power also varies, Uke that which influences the
Dther planets, in the inverse dupUcate proportion of
the distance, as he had formerly conjectured.
Upon the same principle, he determined the lintf
described by a falUng body to be an elUpse, the
centre of the earth being one of it's foci. Perceiring
now that his inqufry, undertaken at ffrst out of mere
curiosity, might be appUed to the noblest purposes,
he drew up several propositions relative to the mo
tion of those planets about the sun, which were com
municated to the Royal Society about the end of
1683. These faUing under the eye of Dr. HaUey,
that Ulustrious astronomer took a journey to Cam-
bridge in August, 1684, in order to consult Mr.
Newton; and learning from him, that he had abso-
lutely completed the much-desfred demonstration,
made hira a .second visit for the purpose of procuring

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 257
bis consent (which he did with some dURculty) to
have it entered in the register-books of the Royal
Society. After which, by his guest's importunity,
and at the request of that Society, he was induced
to finish the work.
The third book was at the same time drawn up by
him in a popular way, to be pubUshed along with the
other two : but the manuscript being presented with
a dedication to the Royal Society in April, 1686,
Mr. Hooke injuriously insisted on his having pre
viously demonstrated Kepler's problem himself; upon
which with a modesty scarcely less than his genius,
to ^void the risk of controversy, the author deter
mined to suppress it. And even when his friends
prevaUed upon him to alter his resolution, he chose
not to let it go abroad without strict demonstration.*
* The- book was put to the press by the Society soon after
Midsummer, 1686, under the care of Dr. Halley, then Assist
ant Secretary; and made it's appearance about Midsummer,
1687, under the title of ' Philosophies Naturalis Principia Mw
themalica.' Hence it appears that this treatise, full as it is of
various and profound inventions, was composed from scarcely any
other materials than the few propositions before-mentioned, in
the short space of only eighteen months !
The second edition, with great improvements was printed in
1713, under the direction^ of Mr. Roger Cotes, the Cambridge
Professor pf Astronomy and Experimental Philosophy, who in
a learned preface gave an account of the philosophy contained
in the book, especially with regai-d to the famous vortices of
Des Cartes.
Another edition was given by two learned foreign Jesuits, MM.
Le Soeur and Jacquier, who thought it necessary to establish
their orthodoxy at the expense of their consistency and vera
city, by prefixing to the first part of the third volume the sub
joined singular declaration :
Newtonus in hoc tertio libro telluris motes' hypothesim assumit.
Auctoris propositiones aliter explicari non.poterant, nisi eadem
VOL. V. S

2S8 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
This book, in which a new system of Natural
PhUosophy was constmcted upon the most subUme
geometry, did not at first meet with aU the applause
which it was one day justly to receive. Des Cartes
had, at that time, gained fuU possession of the
human mind. His PhUosophy was indeed the crea
ture of a fine imagination, gaUy dressed in a tempt
ing metaphorical stUe; he had given her likewise
some of Nature's true features, and painted the rest
to a seeming of her Ukeness; while whatever she
uttered appeared to be easily understood. Hence,
the world, in general, resented the attempt to awaken
them out of so pleasing a dream.
On the other hand, Newton had with unparaUeUed
sagacity pursued Nature up to her most secret abodes;
and anxious rather to demonstrate her residence ta
others, than to point out the way by which he had
arrived at it himself, had finished his piece with that
elegant conciseness, which justly gained the ancients
universal esteem. The consequences, indeed, flow with
such rapidity from the prindples, that the reader is
often left to supply a long chain to connect them. It
required, therefore, some time before the world could
understand it : the best mathematicians were obUged
to study it with care ; and those of a lower class durst
not venture upon it, tiU encouraged by the testuno-
nies of the leamed. When, however, it's worth' he-

quoque facta hypothesi. Hinc alienam coacti sumus gererepeno-
nam, CcetCriim latis h Summis Pontifidbus contra telluris ^otm
Decretis nos obsequi prqfitemurJ ! Ah! imprudent Galileo 1
The select portions of the * Principia' published at Cambridge
in 1765 by Jebb, &c. cum notis variorum, and the late Bishop
Horsley's edition of all Newton's works, in 5 vols. 4t0. in 178*,
ought here also to be mentioned.

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 258 »
came sufficiently known, nothing was to be heard
from aU quarters, but one general shout of admi^
ration.* " Does Mr. Newton eat, or drink, or sleep Uke
other men ? " said the Marquis I'Hdpital, one of the
most Ulustrious men of the age, to the EngUsh who
visited him ; '• I represent him to myself as a celes
tial genius, entfrely disengaged from matter."
In the midst of these profound researches, just be
fore his 'Principia' went to the press, the privL
leges of the University being attacked by James II.,
who had sent a mandamus to admit Father Francis
(an ignorant Benedictine monk) to the degree of
M.A., Newton appeared among thefr most hearty
vindicators, and was accordingly appointed one of the
Delegates to the High Commission Court; where
the defejice they made was so unexpected, that his
Majesty thought proper to drop the affafr. After this,
he was chosen one of the University-representatives
in the Convention ParUament in 1688, iri which he
sate tiU it's dissolution.
Charles Montagu, subsequently Eari of HaUfax,
sat likewise for the first time in that assembly ; and,
having been educated at the same coUege, and there
fore weU knowing Newton's abiUties, upon undertaking
the great work of re-coining the money, as ChanceUor
of the Exchequer obtained for him, in I696, the of
fice of Warden of the Mint. This post enabled him
to render signal services to the nation in that im
portant affafr; and three years afterward, he was
• To this Dr. S.Clarke's version ofthe ' Physics' of Rohault,
though that author was a Cartesian, did not a little contribute.
See his Life.
s 2

-660 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
Appointed Master of the Mint, a place worth nearly
1500/. per ann., whiclj he held tUJ his death.
Upon this promotion he appointed Mr. Whiston,
M. A. - of Clare HaU, his deputy in the mathematical
professorship at Cambridge, gave him the fuU profits
of the place, and eventuaUy procured him to be chosen
his successor.
The Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris having
this year, by a new regulation, agreed to admit fo
reigners into that Society, Mr. Newton was immedi
ately elected a member.
In 1699, he edited Dr. Barrow's ' Optical Ledures,'
in quarto.
In 1703, he was chosen President of the Royal
Society; and retained that honourable station to the
time of his death.
In 1704, he pubUshed, at London, his ' Optics; of,
3 Treatise of the Reflexions, Refractions, Inflexions,
and Colours of Light.' He had been occasionally
employed for thfrty years, in bringing the experiments
to a satisfactory degree of certainty. In reaUty, this
seems to have been his favourite invention.
In the speculations of Infinite Series and Fluxions,
as also in his demonstrations of the power of Gravity
as affecting the Solar System, there had been some
distant hints given by others before him : whereas, in
discovering that a ray of Ught was separable into dif
ferent particles, each having a different refrangibility
and a pecuUar colour ; that rays faUing in the same
angle of incidence have alternate fits of reflection and
refraction ; that bodies are rendered transparent by
the minuteness, and opaque by the largeness, of their
pores ; and that the most transparent body, by great

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 261
lattenuation, becomes less pervious in aU these, which
made up his ' New Theory of Light and Cdotirs,' he
was entfrely the first inventor : and, as the subject is
ofthe most deUcate nature, he thought it necessary
to be himself likewise the last finisher of it.
But his assiduous researches for so many years
were far from being exclusively confined to the sub
ject of Light : on the contrary, they seemed to com
prehend all that we know of natural bodies. He had
discovered, that there was a mutual action at a dis
tance between Ught and other substances ; by which
the reflexions and refractions, as weU as the inflexions,
of the former were constantly produced. To ascer
tain the force and extent of this principle long en
gaged his thoughts, and after aU by it's extreme sub
tUty eluded even his penetration. Though unsuc
cessful, however, in his inquiries, he gave the best
directions possible for thefr future prosecution, and
furnished abundant matter to animate the pursuit.
He has, indeed, laid open a way of passing from op
tics to an entire system of physics ; and, if we look
upon his 'Queries' as containing the history of a
great man's first thoughts, even in that view alone
they must appear highly entertaining' and curious.
He was most anxious, that their true rtieariing
;should be rightly understood ; which was, to furnish
motives to farther investigations, without presuming
to determine any thing themselves : and, when Dr.
Freind, a few years afterward, pubUshed his 'Lec
tures in Chemistry,' and in explaining the phenomena
of chemical experiments assumed that attraction as a
prindple which in the ' Queries ' was only started as
a conjecture, Newton complained of the cfrcum
stance as an injury. Upon the same account^ in the

262 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
advertisement prefixed to the ' Optics,' he expressed a
desfre that the volume ttiight not be translated into
Latin without his consent; and, when Dr. Clarke
(who, to prevent others, immediately undertook it
with his approbation) presented to him the ttiftnu-
script, he was so much pleased with it's elegance and
fideUty, that he gave him 500/. in acknowledgement
of his service.*
The first edition of Newton's ' Optics was acCoM-
pattied with his ' Quadrature of Curves by his New
Ariailysis;' to which he subjoined ' An Enumeration
of the Lines of the Thfrd Order,' both coittpreheftded
under the foUowing title, ' Tractatus duo de Speciehiis
et Magnitudine Figufarum Curvilinearum: This
was the first appearance, in print, of his Method of
Fluxions. It was apparently finished upon the plan
df his original intention in i67L He had decUned
At that time to publish it, on account of a contro
versy, and it unfortunately proved the occasion of
drawing him into one at present.
Irt 1705, Queen Anne conferred upon him the ho
nour of knighthood.
In 170^4 Mr. Whiston, by his permission, pubUshed
his algebraical lectures, under the title of 'Arith
metica Uni>v^rsalis, sive de CompoiSitivrte et Resolu-
tione Arithmeticm Liber : ' and frotti this edition it
was translated into English by Mr. Ralphson.f
* This translation was printed at London in 1766, and as a
second edition of the original with improvements appeared lii
1718, re-pHnted in 1719. Mr. Peter Coste translated it into
French from the second edition, in two volumes, 12mb., whidh
were again published at Paris in 1722.
t A second edition having been printed by the author with
irriprbVements, under the care of Mr. Machin, Pfcfessor of As-
trbnomy at Gresham Collegfe and Setretafy to thb Royal Sft"
5

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 265
This work was toother specimen of his unparallel-
led genius ; he caUed it ' Universal Arithmetic,' as
Dr. Pemberton informs us, in opposition td the inju
dicious title of ' Geometry,' which Des Cartes had pre
viously bestowed upon a treatise intended to prove
how the geometer may assist his invention by such
kinds of computations.
In 1711, Newton's « Analysis, per Quarititatum
Series, Fluxiones, et Differentias, cum Enumerations
Linearum Tertii Ordinis,' was pubUshed in London,
by WiUiam Jones, Esq. F.R.S.* He had met, it ap
pears, with a copy of the first of these pieces among
the papers of Mr. ColUns, to whom (as already men
tioned) it had been communicated by Dr. Barrow
in 1669.
This pubUcation was occasioned by the dispute
.about the invention of the Method of Fluxions,
which Ukewise gave birth to a work undertaken
with the consent of Sfr Isaac, and printed the fol
lowing year, under the title of, ' Commereium EpiS'
tolicum D. Johannis Collins et aliorum, de Analyst
promotd,jussu Societatis Regies in lucem editum,-\
ciety, Ralphson's translation was revised and corrected by Mr,
Cunn ; and republished, with farther additions and annotations,
in two volumes, 8vo., by Dr. Wilder of Trinity College, Dublin.
A Latin edition of the same Work, with a commentary by Cas
tillo, subsequently appeared at Amsterdam, in two volumes, 4to.
* Father of Sir William Jones, ever to be lamented, ever to
be honoured.
t Of this book a most precise and correct account vras given
(most probably, by Newton himself) in the Philosophical Trans
actions for 1714, xxix. ; which is reprinted in the able Abridge
ment of them by Drs. Hutton, Shaw, and Pearson, vi. 116—153.
No. 342. ;
As M, Leibnitz was Privy Councillor of Justice to the Elector

264 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
In 1714, Messrs. Ditton and Whiston having pro
posed a ' New Method of Discovering the Longitude
at Sea by Signals,' it was laid before the House of
Commons fo^- their consideration and patronage : upon
which a Committee was appointed to examine the
matter, who on application to Sir Isaac Newton for
his opinion immediately received from him the fol
lowing paper :
" For determining the Longitude at sea there
have been several projects, true in theory^ but dif
ficult to execute ;
" I. One is by a Watch, to keep time exactly ;
but, by reason of the motion of a ship, the variation
of heat and cold, wet or dry, and the difference of
gravity in different latitudes, such a watch hath not
yet been made ;
" II, Another is by the EcUpses of Jupiter's Satel
Utes ; but, by reason of the length of telescopes neces
sary to observe them, and the motion of a ship at sea,
those ecUpses cannot yet be there observed :
" III. A thfrd is, by the Place of the Moon ; but
her theory is not yet exact §nough for that purpose;
it is exact enough to determine the Longitude within
two or three degrees, but not within a degree ;
" IV. A fourth is Mr. Ditton's project ; and this is
rather for keeping an account of the Longitude at
sea, than for finding it if at any time it should be
6f Hanover, upon the accession of that Prince to the British
throne Newton was particularly noticed at Court ; and it was for
his Majesty's immediate satisfaction, that h^ was induced to
put the last hand to the dispute about the invention pf Fluxions.
this interesting subject is ably and definitively discussed in
a Critique lately published of the Rev. W. Dealtry's valuable?
'Treatise of Fluxions.' {See Quarterly Review.)

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 263
lost, as it may easUy be in cloudy weather. How
far this is practicable, and with what charge, they
that are skUled in sea-affairs are best able to judge.
In saiUng by this method, whenever they are to pass
over very deep seas, they must saU due east or west ;
they must first saU into the latitude of the next place
to which they are going beyond it, and then keep due
east or west tUl they come at that place.
" In the three first ways, there must be a watch
regulated by a spring, and rectified every visible sun
rise and sun-set, to teU the hour of the day or night.
In the fourth way, such a watch is not necessary. In
the first way, there must be two watches, this and the
other above-mentioned. In any of the three first ways,
it may be of. service to find the Longitude within a
degree, and of much more service to find it within
forty minutes, or half, a degree, if it may ; and the
success may deserve rewards accordingly.
" In the fourth way, it is easier to enable seamen
to know thefr distance and bearing from the shore
forty, sixty, or eighty mUes off, than to cross the seas :
and some part of the reward may be given, when the
first is performed on the coast of Great Britain, for
the safety of ships coming home ; and the rest, when
seamen shall be enabled to sail to an assigned re
mote harbour without losing their Longitude, if it
may be."
Upon this opinion, the Commons rejected the Pe
titions. In 1715, M. Leibnitz, with a view of persuading
the world that Newton had stolen the Method of
Fluxions from his Differential Method,* resolved to
* This he had anxiously wished to accomplish from the year
1684 ; and to foil his attempts Newton had, in 1687, asserted Ipi

^ee SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
foU his mathematical skiU by the celebrated Problem
of the Trajectories, which he therefore proposed by
way of chaUenge to the EngUsh phUosophers. But
the solution of this, though it was the most difficult
proposition which his acute antagonist could devise,
was scarcely more than an amusement to the English
phUosopher. He received the Problem at four o'clock
in the afternoon, as he was returtung from the Mint;
and, though he was extremely fatigued with official
business, he finished the investigation of it before he
went to bed.
In the new Court the Princess of Wales, after
ward Queen CaroUne, was particularly fond of philo
sophical inqufries. No sooner, therefore. Was she in
formed of Sir Isaac's attachment to the House of
Hanover, than she engaged his conversation, which
presently endeared him to her. Here she found in
every difficulty that entfre satisfaction, which she had
in vain sought elsewhere ; and was frequently he^rd
to declare, that ' she thought herself happy in Uving
at a, juncture of time, which put it in her power to
converse with him.'
Among other things, he one day acquainted her
Royal Highness with his conclusions upon some points
right to the invention, in the Scholium to the Second Lemma of
the Second Book of his 'Principia;' and re-asserted, in the ac
companiments to his ' Optics,' 1672, that he had discovered his
• Method of Fluxions ' in the years 166^ and 1666. Notwith
standing this, in the ' Jcta Eruditorum ' of Leipsic it was inti
mated that Newton had borrowed it from Leibnitz. Dr. Keill,
however, with great zeal and success vindicated the honour of his
illustrious countryman : and FonteneUe says, « Leibnitz was only
the first to publish this method of calculation ; in taking which
ficom Newton, if he did so, he resembled Prometheus in the fable,
who stole fire from heaven, tliat he might communicate it to men."

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 267
of Chronology,* and communicated to her what he
had formerly written for his own amusement upon
the subject. Such, however, appeared to her the
novelty and the ingenuity of the plan, that she would
not be satisfied tiU he had promised to complete a
work so happUy begun.
Not long afterward, about the year 1718, the
Princess begged to be indulged with a copy of these
papers; and though they were extremely confused
and indigested, he offered in a few days to supply her
with an abstract of them, provided it might be kept
secret. Upon her desiring however that Signer
Conti, a A^enetian nobleman then in England, might
* Yet his calculations proceed upon a principle which, how
ever correct in averages of great numbers, can hardly perhaps
be safely applied to theheptad of Roman Kings, &c. It has been
powerfully combated by Dr. Musgrave in his tract upon ' the
Chronology of the Olympiads ' (from page 146 to the end ) , where
are contrasted with three consecutive Kings of France, Louiii
XIII., XIV., and XV., who reigned 166 years (from the assassi
nation of Henry IV. in 1608, to the accession of Louis XVI.
in 1774) the three consecutive Emperors of Rome, Galba, Otho,
and ViteUius, whose conjunctive reigns did not amount " in all
to a year and three quarters." This argument was sanctioned
by the late Professor Person.
" In mathematics," says Whiston, in his own • Memoirs ot Him.
self,' " Sir Isaac could sometimes see almost by intuition, even
without demonstration ; as was the case in that famous Proposi
tion in his ' Principia,' that • All Parallelograms circumscribed
about the conjugate diameters of an Ellipsis are equal ; ' which,
he told Mr. Cotes, he used before it had ever been demonstrated
by any one, as it was afterward. And, when he did but propose
conjectures in Natural Philosophy, he almost always knew them
to b* true at the same time : yet did this Sir Isaac Newton com'
pose a Chronology, and wrote out eighteen copies of it's first and
principal chapter with his own hand, but little different one frorti
another, which proved no better than a sagacious romance," &c.

268 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
have a transcript of it upon the same condition, he
felt himself unable to deny her request.
Notwithstanding this promise Conti, whd had al
ways affected to show a particular friendship for
Newton, immediately upon his arrival in France
dispersed copies of it, and procured an antiquary
to translate it into French, and to draw up a con
futation of it. This was printed at Paris in 1727;
after which, a copy of the translation unaccompa
nied by the remarks, under the title of ' Abreg'e
de Chronologic de M. le Chevalier Newton, fait
par lui-mime, et traduit sur le manuscrit Anglais'
was deUvered, as a present from the printer to
the author, in order to obtain his consent to the
pubUcation ; and, though he expressly withheld it,
the whole was, nevertheless, pubUshed in the same
yeai'. Upon this, Sfr Isaac printed, in the Philosophical
Transactions (xxxiv. No. 316.) ' Remarks upon the
Observations made on a Chronological Index of Sir
Isaac Newton, translated into French by the Ob-
servator, and pubUshed at Paris.*
About the year 1722, this incomparable man, then
in the eightieth year of his age, was seized with an
incontinence of urine, which as supposed to proceed,,
from the stone in the bladder, was deemed incurable.
By the help of a strict regimen however, and other
precautions which tUl then he never had found it
* Of this paper a French translation appeared at Paris in 1726,
with a Letter of Conti's in answer to it. In the same year, like
wise, were published in the same city, by Father Souciet, some
Dissertations upon the ' Chronological Index ; ' which were aa.
Swered by Dr. Halley, in tbe Phil. Trans. No. 379.

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 269
necessary to observe, he procured great intervals of
of ease during the remaining five years of his Ufe ;
though severe paroxysms would^ occasionally, cause
large drops of sweat to run down his face.
Under these cfrcumstances, he was never heard to
express the least impatience : on the contrary, as soon
as he had a moment's ease, he would smUe and talk
with his usual cheerfulness. TUl this time, he had
always read and written several hours in a day ; but
he was now obUged to rely upon Mr. Conduit, who
had married his niece, for the discharge of his office
in the Mint.
On Saturday morning March 18, 1726, he read
the newspapers, and discoursed a long time with Dr.
Mead, his physician, in the perfect possession of aU
his senses and his understanding ; but that night he
lost them aU, and died without recovering them on
the Monday foUowing.
His body lay in, state in the Jerusalem Chamber,
andjon the twenty eighth of March, was conveyed to
Westnonster Abbey, the Lord Chancdlor, the Dukes
of Montrose and Roxburgh, and the Earls of Pem
broke, Sussex, and Macclesfield holding up the paU.
The corpse was interred at the entrance into the
choir, on the left hand, where a stately monument
was erected to his memory with the foUowing elegant
inscription : H. S, E.
IsAAcus Newton, Eques Auratus,
* Qui animi vi prope divind
* Planetarum motus,figuras,
^ ' Cometarum semitas, Oceanique esstus.
Sua mathesifacem prceferente.
Primus demonstravit.
Radiorum lucis dissimilitudines, ^.

mo SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
Colorumque inde nascentium proprietatfs,
Quas nemo antea vel suspicatus eriit, pervcstigavit..
Natures, Antiquitatis, S. Scriptures
Sedulus, sagax,fdus interpres,
Dd Opt. Max. majestatem philosophid asseruif,
Evangelii simplicUatem moribus expressit, ,
Sibi gratulentur mortales, tale t'antumqus extitisse
HUMANI GENERIS DECUS.
Nattis XXV. Decemb, mdcxlii.
Obiit XX, Mart, mdccxxvi.
In his own iUustrious CoUege, worthy of such s
son, beside pictures, &c., was erected in the anti-
chapel, at the expense of Dr. Robert Smith, Master,
a most admirable piece of statuary executed by Rou-
bUiac in white marble ; representing the PhUosophe?
standing on a pedestal, in a gown of the most grace*-
ful drapery, with a prism in his hands, his eyep
directed upward in abstracted meditation. The in
scription, from the thii'd book of Lucretius, is.
Qui genus humanum ingenio superavit,*
Near the foot of this statue rest Cotes, f Bentley,
* This statue is well described in the following lines : ¦
' Hark! where the organ, full and clear.
With loud hosannas charms the ear ;
Behold a prism within his hands,
Absorb'd in thought great Newton stands J
Such was his brow and look serene,
His serious gait aqd musing mien.
When taught on eagle-wings to fly.
He traced the wonders of the sky ;
The chambers of the sun explored.
Where tints of thousand hues were stored.'
t The inscription upon this eminent man, who died at tbe
early age of thirty four, and of whom Newton himself pro-

SIB ISAAC NEWTON. 271
and Person. Other memorials of him are scattered
over nearly the whole surface of contemporary Ute
rature. Mr Pope's tribute is subjoined :
' Nature, and Nature's Laws, lay hid in night:
God said, " Let Newton be ; " and all was light.'
He elsewhere says of. the Angels, that they
* Admired such wisdom in a human shape.
And show'd a Newton, as we show an ape.' *
nounced, " Ah ! if Cotes had lived, we should have known
something ! " is too elegant to be omitted :
H, S, E.
Rogerus Roberti Filius Cotes
Hujus Collegii S, Trinitatis Sodus,
Et Astronomies et Experimentalis
Philosophice Professor Plumianus :
Q}d, immaturd morte prtsreptw.s,
Pauca quidem ingenii sui
Pignora reliquit,
Sed egregia, sed admiranda.
Ex intimis Matheseos penetralibus
Felici snlertid tum primum eruta ;
Post magnum ilium Newtonum,
Societatis hujus spes altera,
Et decus gemeUum :
Cui, ad summam doctrines laudem,
Omnes morum virtutumque dotes
In cumulum accesserunt ;
Eb magis spectabiles admirabilesque.
Quod informoso corpore
Gratieres venirent.
Natus Burbagii,
In agro Leicestriensi,
Jul, X. MDCI-XXXII.
Obiit Jan. v. mdccxvi.
* Other Epitaphio-idal Inscriptions were :
* Approach, ye wise of soul, with awe divine ;
'Tis Newton's name that consecrates this shrine !

272 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
With regard to his person, he was of a middling
stature, and in the latter part of his Ufe somewhat
incUned to corpulence. His countenance was pleasing
and venerable at the same time, especiaUy when he
took off" his peruke, and showed his white hair,
That sun of knowledge, whose meridian ray
Kindled the gloom of Nature into day :
That soul of science, that unbounded mind.
That genius which ennobled human kind ;
Confess'd supreme of men, his country's pride, '
And half esteem'd an Angel— till he died !
Who in the eye of Heaven like Enoch stood.
And through the pafhs of knowledge walk'd with God:
Whose fame extends, a sea without a shore ;
, Who but forsook one worlds to know the laws of more.'
And, ' More than his name were less — *T would seem to fear
He, who increased Heaven's fame, could want it here.
Yes : when the sun he lighted np shall fade.
And all the worlds he first found are decay'd;
Then void and waste eternity shall lie.
And Time and Newton's name together die.'
Dr. Bentley, also, wrote a Latin inscription for his great
fellow-collegian, which will be given at tbe end of his Life;
Thomson inscribed, to ' the Genius of his dejected Countiy^' ,
as he would have him called, a poem, for tbe science contained
in which he was indebted to the assistance of a more learned
friend : and Mr. Hollis subjoined to his fine Mezzotinto print
of Newton (now scarce) the following passage from Voltaire's
Letter accompanying his ' Ode sur la mort de Mme. de BareUh:'
Les Italiens, ces peuples ingenieux, ont craint de penser. Les Fran-
fais n'ont os6 penser qu'h dernier. Les Anglais, qui ont voUjvs-
qu'au del parce qu'on ne leur a point coupe les ailes, sont deventts,
les precepteurs des nations. Nous leur devons tout depiiis les ^
primitives de la Gravitation, depuis la calcul. de I' Infini et In
connaissance precise de la Lumiere si vainement combattae, jusqn''^
la nouvelle Charue et 5 I'insertion de la Petite Verole combatttiei
encore.

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 278
wluch was rather thick. He lost but one tooth, and
never made use of spectacles, dhring his whole life.
This perhaps might be the ground' for FonteneUe's
saying; in a kind of panegyric, that ' he had an
extremely Uvelyand piercing eye;' as Bishop Atter
bury, who seems to have observed it more critiCaUy,
assures us that "^this did not bdong to him, at least
not for twenty years past, about which time (he
adds) I -became acquainted with him. Indeed, in
the whole afr of his fece and make there Avas nothing
of that penetrating sagacity which appears in his
compositions; he had something rather languid in
his look and manner, which did not raise any great
expectation in those who did not know him."
In contemplaSng his profound genius, it becomes
a doubt, whether sagacity, penetration, strength, or
dUigence had the largest share in his composition.
He himself invariably spoke of his own abUities with
singular modesty. One day, when a friend had been
expressing himself m strong terms upon his un
common talentSj Sfr Isaac unaffectedly assured him,
that ' for his own part he; was sensible, whatever he
had done worth notice was owing rather to a patience'
of thought, than to any extraordinary sagacity.' " I
keep the subject constantly before me, and wait tiU
the first dawnings open slowly, by Uttle and little,
into afiiU and clear Ught."
When engaged in any mathematical meditation,
he would occasionaUy sit on the side of his bed half-
dressed' fi)B a^ considerable period. Dinner ha;s fre
quently waited for him! three hours. His intimate
friend. Dr. Stukeley (it is even said) once ate up
his chiekeuj after long„ waiting in vain for his ap
pearance, and putting the bones in the ^sh, re-
VOL. v. T

274 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
placed the cover. When Newton at last left his
study, and telUng his visitor that 'he was both
weary and hungry,' sat down to table, he merely
said with a smile, on perceiving only the reUcs of
the fowl, " I thought I had not dined, but I find I
was mistaken."
A proof of the exceUence of his temper, Ukewise,
is on record, which deserves to be remembered. His
favourite Uttle dog. Diamond, overturned a Ughted
candle among some papers, the almost-completed
labours of several years. The loss, as he was at
this time far advanced in Ufe, was irretrievable: yet
he only rebuked the cause of it with, " O Diamond!
Diamond ! thou Uttle knowest the mischief thou hast
done!" The readiness of his invention superseded in him
the necessity of putting his memory much to the
trial; but this "was the offspring of a vigorous: in-
tenseness of thought. He spent, therefore, the prime
of his age in abstruse researches, when his situation
ui a coUege gave him leisure, and even whUe study
was his proper profession: but as soon as he was re
moved to the Mint, he appUed hhnself chiefly to the
business of his office, and so far quitted mathema
tics and phUosophy, as not to engage in any new
pursmt of either kind afterward.
He had read fewer of the modern mathematicians,
as We learn from Dr. Pemberton, than could have
been imagined; but his own prodigious powers
readUy suppUed hun with whatever he wanted in
any subject which he undertook. He often cen
sured the handUng of geometrical subjects by alge
braic calculations ; and praised Slusius, Barrow, and
Huygens for not having yielded to the bad taste,

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 275
Which then began to prevaU. He used to commend
the laudable attempt of Hugo de Omerique to re
store the ancient analysis, and highly esteemed
ApoUonius' book ' De Sectione Rationis,' as pre
senting a clearer notion of that analysis than had
been previously pubUshed. He particularly approved
Huygens, as the most elegant and accurate imitator
of the ancients, of whose taste and form of demon
stration he always professed himself a great admirer.
The same writer Ukewise observes, that though
his memory, was indeed much decayed in the latter
years of his Ufe, the common discourse, that ' he
did not then understand his own works,' was entfrely
groundless. The opinion might, perhaps, arise from
his not being always ready to speak upon these sub
jects ; but this was, probably, the consequence of
that species of abstraction, which is not unfrequently
seen in men of genius.
He had, moreover, a natural modesty and meek
ness of disposition,, which evinced itself strongly in
his conduct to Leibnitz. He was not, however, to
taUy insensible of injuries ; and iafter the perfidious
behaviour of Conti, "his customary caution increased
into a habit of reserve bordering upon mistrust, which
was taken amiss by men of integrity entitled on
account of their talents to free communications of
his superior knowledge.
Another consequence of his native modesty was,
that he never talked either of himself or others, so
as to fumish the most maUcious with the least occa
sion even td suspect him of vanity. Invariably kind,
candid, and affable, he never thought either Ws
merit, or his reputation, sufficient to excuse him
T 2

276 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
from any of the common offices of social life. N'o
^gularities, natural or affected, distinguished him
from other men-
With respect to his reUgious Sentiments, though
he was firmly attached to the Church of England,^*
he was averse ftom the persecution of Non-eon-
formists. He judged of men by thefr conduct ; and
the true Schismatics, in his opinion, were the vicious
and the wicked. Not that he confined his principles
to Natural ReUgion, for he was thoroughly persuaded
of the truth of Revelation, and amidst the great
variety of books constantly before hina, that which he
studied with the greatest appUcation was, the Bible, f
* As some unfair attempts have been made to claim this
great name for the soi-disant Rationalists, I subjoin-a brief note
tipon the subject::
I have elsewhere shown (observes Bishop Burgess) that Sir
Isaac Newton was not a Socinian ; and I have quoted from him
language^ that conveys the sentiments of a sincere adherent to
the Church, of which he was a member. He could, therefore,
be neither Socinian nor Arian. The following extract ftom
Whiston's Memoirs of his, own life will confirm this conclusion :
" On or about the year 1720, I take it J;o have been, that I was
refused to be admitted a Member of the Royal Society by Sit
Isaac Newton. The case was this: Sir Hans Sloane, Dr.
Edmund Halley, and myself were once togetber at Child's
Coffee House, in St. Paul's Churchyard; and Dr. Halley asked
me, ' Why I was not a member of tbat Society ?' I. answered,
• Because they durst not choose a Heretic' Upon which Dr,
Halley said to Sir Hans Sloane that, « if he would propose me,
he would second it : ' which was done accordin^y. When Sir
Isaac Newton heard this, he was greatly concerned, and by
¦what I. then learned closeted some of the Members, in order
to get rid of me; and told them, that ' if I was chosen a Member,
he would not be President.' "
t So Collins, in the brighter intervals distinguishi^ his last

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 277
He did not neglect those opportunities of doing
good, which the revenues of his patrimony and a
profitable employment, improved by a prudent eco
nomy, put into his power. When decency upon any
occasion requfred expense and show, he was magni
ficent without grudging it, and with a very good
grace. At other times that pomp, which seems
great only to low minds, was utterly retrenched, and
it's cost reserved for better uses.
He never married, and perhaps he never had
leisure to think of it. Immersed in profound studies
during the prime of his age, and subsequently occu
pied in an employment of considerable importance,
or with the society which his merit drew round him,
he was not sensible of any vacancy in Ufe. He left
32,000/. behind him, but made nO wiU; thinking,
as FonteneUe assures us, that ' a legacy was no
gift.' After his death, there were found among his
papers several discourses upon subjects of Antiquity^
History, Divinity, Chemistry, and Mathematics.
Some of these have been pubUshed.
unhappy depression of mind, travelled with no other book than
an English Testament, such as children carry to the school ;
and upon Johnson's taking it into his hand, out of curiosity to
see what companion a man of letters had chosen, ' I have but
one bookj' said he, ' but that is the best.' This is happily
noticed in the concluding lines of his epitaph by Hayley and
Sargent in Chichester Cathedral, as well as by the sculptor on
his monument : * » * ^
' Who join'd pure Faith to strong poetic power ;
Who, in reviving Reason's lucid hour.
Sought on one book his troubled mind to rest.
And rightly deem'd the Book os God the best;

278 SIR ISAAC NEWTON.
Beside the works afready mentioned, in 1727 ap
peared a Table of the Assays of Foreign Coins
drawn up by him, and printed at the end of Dr.,
Arbuthnot's book on that subject. And the next
year, came out his ' Chronology of Ancient King
doms amended : to which is prefixed a Short Chro
nicle from the first memory of Things in Europe, to
the Conquest of Persia by Alexander the Great.'
After this, were pubUshed his ' Observations on
the Prophedes of Daniel and the Apocalypse of St.
John,' in 1733 ; which, though unfinished, disco
vered in some of it's parts the hand of a master.
In 1734, Dr. Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne in Ire:
land, in a piece entitled, ' The Analyst,' attacked
his Method of Fluxions, as obscure and uninteUigible;
the doctrine of movements, upon which it vi^as
founded, necessarUy as he contended involving a
notion of infinity of which we can form no compre,
hensible or adequate idea, and therefore being un
suitable for geometrical disquisitions. This gave rise
to a controversy, which occasioned the repubUcation
of Newton's ' Method of Fluxions, and Analysis by
Infinite Series.'*
In 1737, was printed, an EngUsh translation of his
Latin Dissertation upon the Sacred Cubit of the
Jews, It was found subjoined to an incomplete work
of his entitled, ' Lexicon Propheticum.'
In 1742, appeared his ' Tables for purchasing
* This treatise, translated from the Latin original into
English, and printed in 1736 with a perpetual commentary, by
Mr. John Colson (afterward Professor of Mathematics at Cam
bridge) contained, among other things, ' A Defence of the
Method against the Objections of Dr. Berkeley ' See the Life
of Dr. B,

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 279
CoUege Leases ;' a'nd. Wo years afterward, was pub
Ushed at Lausanne ' Newtoni Is. Opuscula Mathe-
matica Philosophica et Philologica collegit J. Cas-
tilioneus, in eight volumes quarto. In 1745, Mr. John
Stewart gave to the world an EngUsh translation of
his ' Two Treatises on the Quadrature of Curves,
and Analysis by Equations of an infinite number of
Terms,' in quarto, accompanied with a large com
mentary : and, in 1746, were printed his ' Elementa
Perspectives Universalis,' in octavo.
Lastly, in 1756, were pubUshed ' Four Letters
from Sir Isaac Newton to Dr. Bentley ; containing
some Arguments in Proof of a Deity.'

.2.80

sm RICHARD STEELE.*

[1676—1729.]

Sir RICHARD STEELE was born in Dublin,
about the year 1676. f A branch of his fanuly pos
sessed a considerable estate in the county of Wexford;
and his father, a counsellor at law, was for some time
private secretary to James, first Duke of Ormond.
He died, before his son had completed his fifth year.
Richard, whUe very young, was placed at the Charter
House School, London, where he first contracted his
intimacy with Addison. ^ Thence he removed to
Merton CoUege, Oxford, where he was admitted a
Post Master in 1692. At the University he gave
some specimens of his taste for poUte Uterature, and
even proceeded so far as to compose a comedy:
but by the advice of a brother-coUegian, he had
* Authorities. Biographia Britannica; British Biography;
Cibber's Lives of tM Poets ; Tatler, with notes, 1786; and
Steele's Epistolary Correspondence,
t Others say, 1671.
X "I remember," says Steele, when I finished the ' Tender
Husband,' I told him (Addison) there was nothing I so ten
derly wished, "as that we might some time or other publish a
work written by us both, which should bear the name of the
• Monument,' in memory of our friendship." {Spectator 555.)

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 281
the good sense to suppress it. As he had great
vivacity of disposition, he formed about this time a
resolution of entering into the army, and accordingly
left Oxford without taking any degree. His mUitary
ardor, indeed, was so strong, that not having it in
his power to obtain a better situation, he engaged as a
private in the horse-guards. This rash step, how
ever, cost him the succession to a very good Irish
property. By nature he was admirably adcpted to . the pro
fession, which he had chosen. Gay, gaUant, and
generous, he was distinguished by the brUUanCy of
his wit, and the courtesy of his manners. These
quaUties rendered him the , delight of the soldiery,
and procured him an ensign's commission. But,
amidst the seductions by which he was surrounded,
he too readUy prostituted his fine talents, and his
amiable quaUties, in the service of licentiousness.
Yet his Ucentiousness flowed not without it's inter
ruptions. Hours of reflexion intervened: and in
these it was, that he wrote for his private use a
Uttle book caUed 'The Christian Hero;* with a
design, principaUy, to correct his propensity to
unwarrantable pleasures. But the secret admonition
* " This work consists chiefly," says Chalmers, " of a review
of the characters of some celebrated heathens,, contrasted with
the life and principles of our blessed Saviour and St. Paul; from
which it was his object to prove, that none of the heroic virtues,
or ' true greatness of mind, can be maintained unless upon Chris
tian principles. The language is far from being regular, and per
haps he may seem deficient in powers of argument: but his
address has much of that honestzeal and affection, which comes
from the heart. It has been often reprinted, and circulated
ariiong the middling class of readers." {Biograph. Pref, to
the Tatler, in his ' British Essayists.')

282 SIR RICHARD STEELE.
of this treatise, whUe it was confined to his own
hands, proving weak and ineffectual, he determined
to print it with his name, in hopes that by thus
drawing on himself the attention of all his acquaint
ance, he might estabUsh a farther check upon his
passions.* Accordingly, in 1701, he gave it to the
world with a dedication to his patron Lord Cutts, f
who appointed him his private secretary, and had
Ukewise procured for him a company in Lord Lucas'
Fusileers. So gross, however, was the contradiction
between the tenor of his work and the general course
of his Ufe, that it not only exposed him to pain
ful raiUery, but was also attended with more un
welcome consesequences. From being thought no
undeUghtful companion, he was now reckoned a
very disagreeable fellow. One or two of his old
comrades thojight fit to insult him, and try their
* Denham was another instance of an author attempting to
write himself out of his follies. But " a man (as Johnson has
well observed) who proposes schemes of life in abstraction ancl
disengagement, exempt from the enticements of hope, the soli
citations of affection, the importunities of appetite, or the de
pressions of fear, is in the same state with him that teaches
upon land the art of navigation, to whom the sea is always
smooth and the wind always prosperous." (Rambler, 14.)
t It begins as follows :
• My toRD, « Tiyaier Guard, March 23, 1701.
* The address of the following papers is so very much due to
your Lordship, that they are but a mere report of what has
passed upon guard to my Commander ; for they were written upon'
duty, and when the mind was perfectly disengaged and at leisure,
in the sileiit watch of the night, to run over the busy dream of
the day; and the vigilance, which obliges us to suppose an enemy
always near us, has awakened a sense that there is a restless and
subtile one, which constantly attends our steps and meditates
our ruin, &c," 4

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 283
valour upon him ; and every body contrasted the
sUghtest levity in his words and actions with the cha
racter of a ' Christian Hero.'
With a view, therefore, of enlivening ' his character,'
he composed his Comedy caUed ' The Funeral, or
Grief Alamode.' This performance met with a
very favourable reception upon the stage ; but it's
success was chiefly owing to the author's interest in
the army, and the zeal of his feUow-soldiers. " No
thing," he himself has somewhere observed, " ever
makes the town so fond of a man, as a successful
play." Accordingly this recommendation, with some
other particulars displayed to his advantage, procured
him the notice of his Sovereign ; and his name, as
one to be provided for, was entered (he informs us)
in the last table-book ever worn by WUUam IIL
But his hopes were frustrated by the death of his
royal patron.
- At the beginning of the ensuing reign, through
the interest of the Earls of HaUfax and Sunderland,
to whom he was recommended by Addison, he was
appointed to the Writership of the Gazette; an
humble appendage to the ministry, requiring chiefly
the quaUties of obedience and discretion. Soon
afterward, with the aid of the same generous friend,
he produced his second comedy, caUed ' The Tender
Husfcand, or the AccompUshed Fools;' which was
acted, in the year 1704, with considerable success.
But his next play, ' The Lying Lovers,' met with a
-very different reception. In his preceding dramas,
he had steadUy preserved the point of moraUty : in
this, he paid a more scrupulous attention to the
interests of virtue. Animated by the writings of
ColUer (which were then much read, and of which

284 SIR RICHARD STEELE.
he professed himself a great admfrer) he deter
mined with honest ambition to attempt a comedy,
that might be no improper entertainment in a
Christian commonwealth. He had the mortifica
tion, however, to see his play, as he himself ex
presses it, " damned for it's piety : " a fate, which
it certainly does not appear to have deserved on
any account within the province of a dramatic
tribunal. Disappointed in his expectations of inculcating
moraUty upon the stage, he now turned his thoughts
to other vehicles of instrudion, and in 1709 com
menced his ' Tatler.' Swift had recently pubUshed
some humorous pieces under the name of Isaac
Bickerstaff", with such success, that Steele in order
to recommend his own lucubrations assumed the samfe
signature. Having at the same time secured the
assistance of it's original owner,* he brought out his
new paper to the best advantage, 'and obtained for it
almost universal applause, f
He had not been long engaged in the ' Tatler,'
before Addison, who was then in Ireland, accidentally
discovering that the pubUcation was carried on under
his dfrection, voluntarUy contributed to it's support;
supplying, as Steele himself acknowledges, some of
the most admirable discourses on serious subjeds, and
some of the finest strokes of wit and humour that

* To a less extent however, as Mr. Chalmers affirms, than
the author of Steele's Life in the ' Biographia Britannica ' has
inferred from his warm acknowledgement of Swift's services
upon the occasion. " .
t In it's outset, indeed, it bore marks of crudity, as it in
cluded the political information of a common newspaper: but it
quickly improved.

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 285
are to be found throughout the work. The general
purpose of the Tatler was (as the author observes)
" to expose the false arts of life, to puU off the dis.-
guises of cunning, vanity, and affiectation, and to
recommend a general simpUcity in our dress, our
discourse, and our behaviour." Nothing more was
aimed at, whUe Dr. Swift was concerned in it ; nor
did the papers rise above this design tiU the change
of the ministry, when Addison had Idsure to en
gage more constantly in the work. By his assistance,
however, it's reputation was proportionably increased:
the afr of the famUiar was raised into the subUme ;
and the most important subjects were treated with
elegance, purity, and correctness.
Upward of a year before he began to pubUsh the
* Tatler,' Steele married his second wife. By his
first, a lady of Barbadoes, he had become pos
sessed of a plantation in that island, estimated at
more than 800/. 'per ann., encumbered however
with considerable debts and legacies. She died a
few months after their marriage ; but of her name,
her character, or the precise time of her decease, we
have no account.* His second was Mary, daughter
of Jonathan Scurlock Esq., of Lang^nnor in Wales ;
* She is supposed to be alluded to in a paper of the Tatler
(No. 117) written by Addison, of the incident recorded in 'which
Dr. Beattie observes; " One of the finest moral tales I ever
read is an account in the Tatler, which though it has every ap
pearance of a real dream, comprehends a moral so sublime and
so interesting, that I question whether any man who attends to
it can ever forget it ; and, if he remembers, whether he can ever
cease to be the better for it." {Dissertations Moral and Critical,)
He fell in love with his second wife, it has been said, as she
attended the funeral of his first.

8

286 SIR RICHARD STEELE.
a lady of great fortune and beauty, to whom
he remained strongly attached to the end of her
Ufe. In his ' Epistolary Correspondence,' * are many
curious letters addressed to her, after they were
married, from which we select the foUowing:
" My Deab Wife, « Oct. 8, 1707.
" You were not, I am sure, awake so soon as I
was foi: you, and desfred the blessing of God upon
you. After that first duty, my next is to let you
know I am in health this morning, which I know.
you are soUcitous for. I believe it would not be
amiss, if some time this afternoon you took a coach
or chafr, and went to see a house next door to Lady
Bulkeley's, toward St. James' Street, which is to be
Id. I have a soUd reason for quickening my dili
gence in aU affafrs of the world, which is, that you
are my partaker in them, and wiU. make me labour
more than any incUnation of ambition or wealth
could do. After I have implored the help of Pro
vidence, I wUl have no motive to my actions but
the love of the best creature Uving, to whom 1 am
an obedient husband,
" Rich. Steele."
" Madam, « Aug, 12, 1708.
" I have your letter, wherein you. let me know
that the Uttle dispute we have had is far from being
a trouble to you: nevertheless, I assure you, any
disturbance between us is the greatest affliction to
* Published by Mr. Nichols in 1787, in two volumes, 8vo.

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 287
me imaginable. You talk of ' the judgement of the
world; 'I shaU never govern my actions by it, but by
the rules of morality and right reason. I love you
better than the Ught of my eyes, or the Ufe-blood in
my heart : but, when I have let you know that, you
are also to understand, that neither my sight shaU
be so far enchanted, or my affection so much master
of me, as to make me forget our common interest.
To attend my business as I ought, and improve my
fortune, it is necessary that my time and my wiU
should be under no dfrection but my own. Pray
give my most humble service to Mrs. Binns. I
write aU this rather to explain my own thoughts to
you, than answer to you distinctly. I enclose it to
you, that upon second thoughts you may see the
respectful manner in which you treat your affectionate,
faithful husband,
" Rich. Steele."
" Dear Wife,
" I have been ui great pain of body and mind,
since I came out. You are extremely cmel to a
generous nature, which has a tenderness for you,
that renders your least dishumour insupportably
afflicting. After short starts of passion, not to be
incUned to reconcUiation is what is against all rules
of Christianity and justice. When I come home, I
beg to be kindly received ; or this wiU have as UI
an effect upon my fortune, as on my mind and body.
" Rich. Steele."
« Dear Prue, " Aug. 28, 1708.
"The aftemoon-coach shaU bring you ten pounds.
Your letter shows, you are passionately in love with

288 SIR RICHARD STEELE.
me. But we must take our portion of Ufe as it runs,
without repining ; and I consider that good-nature,
added to that beautiful form God has given you,
would make a happiness too great ^ for human life.
Your most obUged husband, and most humble servant,
" Rich. Steele."
From many of these letters it appears, that the
temper of Steele and his wife were in some respects
extremely different, which often occasioned disagree
ments between them. They appear, in fact, never to
have parted without bickerings; yet during their being
asunder, he often wrote to her three or four passionate
notes in a day, dated from his office or a bookseUer's
shop or a friend's house, e. g,
" I beg of you not to be impatient, though it be
an hour before you see your obUged husband,
" Rich. Steele."
" Dear Prue,
*' Forgive me dining abroad, and let WUl carry
the papers to Buckley's. Your fond devoted « R. S."
" Drar Prue,
" I am very sleepy and tfred, but could not think
of closing my eyes tUl I had told you I am, dearest
creature, your most affectionate faithfid husband,
« R, Steele."
From other notes it appears to have been in con
sequence of the connubial mandate of his fafr dfespot.

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 289
that he thus gave her " an account of every trifle
and minute of his time." He was highly improvident,
and Uberal even to a degree of prodigaUty ; whUe she
was not merely prudent, but parsimonious, hoarding
the greatest part of her income, of which she had
cautiously reserved the management almost entfrely
to herself.
His inattention to economy often involved him in
considerable difficulties. Dr. Johnson says, " Steele,
whose imprudence of generosity or vanity of profile
sion kept him always incurably .necessitous, upon
some pressing exigence in an evU hour borrowed a
hundred pounds of his friend Addison, probably
without much purpose of repayment ; but Addison,
who seems to have had other notions of a hundred
pounds, grew impatient of delay, and reclaimed his
loan by an execution. Steele felt with great sensi-
biUty the obduracy of his creditor ; but with emo
tions of sorrow, rather than of anger." Of this
transaction, which Johnson has represented in a
manner highly injurious to Addison, the foUowing
appears to be the true account : Steele had buUt, and .
inhabited for a few years, a smaU but elegant house
adjoining to the side of the palace of Hampton
Court ; to which he gave the name of ' the Hovel at
Hampton Wick.'* Here he Uved in a manner.

* " He wrote lively Essays," it has been remarked, " on the
follies of the day in an enormous black peruke, which cost him
fifty guineas ! He built an elegant villa ; but, as he was always
inculcating economy, he dates from ' the Hovel ! ' He detected
the fallacy of the South Sea scheme, while he himself invented
projects not inferior either in magnificence or in misery ! He
even turned alchemist, and wanted to gain gold— merely to djs•^
tribute it!"
VOL. V. V

290 SIR RICHARD STEELE.
which his finances would by no means admit ; and,
being much embarrassed for money, borrowed, a
thousand pounds of Addison on this house and it's
furniture, giving bond and judgement for it's repay-
ment at the end of twelve months. Addison finding
that it would be advantageous to Steele, to compel him
to quit his house at Hampton, on the forfeiture of his
bond dfrected his attorney to proceed to execution.
The property was, accordingly, sold ; and the surplus
Addison remitted to Steele, with a letter stating his
anxious wish by this extraordinary proceeding, 'to
awaken him, if possible, from a lethargy which must
end in his inevitable ruin.' Steele received the letter
with his wonted gayety, met his friend as usual, and
declared that ' he always considered this step as
reaUy intended to do him service.'
The success, which the Tatler obtained, with it's
partiaUty to the existing administration, was highly
favourable not only to the fame, but also to the in
terest of it's author; and, in 1710, he was made a
Commissioner of the Stamp Duties. During the same
year, upon the change of the ministry, he adhered
to the Duke of Marlborough, the honour of whose
esteem and friendship he had for some time enjoyed;
and when his Grace was dismissed from aU employ
ments, he addressed to him a letter, under the title
of ' The EngUshman's Thanks to the Duke of Marl
borough.' As he stiU, however, continued to hold
his place in the Stamp Office under the new cabinet,
he restrained his pen from poUtical subjects ; and,
having dropped the ' Tatler,' drew "up the plan of
the ' Spectator' in' concert with Mr. Addison, whose
assistance was the chief support of that admirable
work. It made it's first appearance in March 1710-11,

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 291
was discontinued in December 1712, resumed ih
June 1714, and completed in the December of the
same year.
By the Unexampled applauses which foUowed this
invaluable series of essays, Steele was encouraged to
prosecute the same design under a different title :
and, accordingly, soon after it's final discontinuance
he began the ' Guardian;' the. first number of which
was published in March, and the last in October,
1713. But in the course of this paper he gave his
pen so free a poUtical range, that some of his friends
were dissatisfied with his manner of conducting it ;
and Pope and Congreve withdrew thefr assistance.
This, however, was no check to his ardor : he had
strenuously engaged against the ministry, and he
was determined to exert himself to the utmost in
his favourite cause. Hence, he resolved to procure
a seat in the House of Commons at the ensuing
election, for no other reason (as he observes) but to
say more for the good of his deluded country ; re
signing at the same time his appointment in the
Stamp Office and his pension as servant to the late
Prince George of Denmark, which her Majesty had
been* graciously pleased to continue to him.* He
then pubUshed his celebrated Letter to the Guardian,
on the demoUtion of Dunkfrk ; and, parUament being
dissolved the next day, wrqte several other vehement
tracts against the adjpinistration.
In August, 1713, he was elected member for
Stockbridge ; and, in the foUowing October, his • Eng-
* The same mark of respect was shown to the whole family
of that Prmce.
¥ 2

iQ2 SIR RICHARD STEELE*
Ushman ' niade it's appearance. During the course
of this ptlbUcation, he also issued, ' The Crisis, or a
Discourse representing from the most ancient Records
the just Causes ofthe late Revolution, and the several
Settlements of the Crown of England and Scotland
on her Majesty ; and, on the denuse of her Majesty
Without issue, upon the most iUustrious Princess
Sophia Electress and Duchess Dowager of Hanover,
and the hefrs of her body (being Protestants) by pre
vious Acts of both ParUaments of the late kingdoms
bf England and Scotland, and confirmed by the Pai'^
Uament of Great Britain. With some seasonable
Renaarks on the Danger of a Popish Successor.' *
* The nature of this Treatise, and the occasion of his writing
it, he himself explains in his ' Apology ; ' where he tells us,
that ' the plan of the work was first hinted to him by his friend
Mr. More, of the Inner Temple, a gentleman well skilled
in the laws and constitution of this kingdom ; who in some
incidental discourse on politics, took notice of the insinua
tions daily thrown out of tbe dangers menacing tbe Protestant
Succession, and concluded with observing, that * he thotight
Mr. Steele, from his popularity as a writer, might be more
instrumental toward curing the evil of disaffection to the House
of Hanover than any private man in England:' adding, that
* the evil seemed only to flow from mere inattention to the
obligations, which we owed to that illustrious House ; aUd,
therefore (said he) if the laws to this purpose were r^rinte4
together with a warm preface and a well-urged peroration,
it is not to be imagined what good effects it would have.'
Struck with the suggestion, Steele ^persuaded More fo sup
ply the law-part, and speedily finished the rest: he would
not, however, venture to publish it, till it had been submitted
to the inspection of some other friends. " When the ' Crisis,'"
says he, " was written hand in hand with Mr. More, I, who
was to ans\Ver for it with my all, would not venture upon my
own single judgement. Therefore, I caused it to be ^printed;

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 299
The pubUcation of this piece was productive of
very serious . results to the author. From the first,
indeed, he had been fuUy aware of the danger, to
which it might; expose him.
It was immediately attacked with extreme severity
hy Dr. Swift in a pamphlet, entitled " The PubUc
Spirit of the Whigs set forth, in thefr generous En
couragement of the Author of the ' Crisis.'" But
it was not tUl the twelfth of March, 1713-14, that it
feU under the cognisance of the House of Commons.
The probable consequences of Steele's having a seat
in that assembly had been foreseen by the opposite
party, and had even heen pointed out by the writer
of the ' Examiner ; ' who in one of his papers re
marked, that " Mr. Stede was never so dear to
the Whigs, as since he let them know that he
durst insult the Queen. This has made him their
favourite, and one of thefr authors has made his duU
panegyric upon him afready fi)r it ; whUe another set
and lefi; one copy with Mr. Addison, another with Mr. Lech-
mere, another .with Mr. MinshuU, »id another witji Mr. Hoadly.
From these corrected copies the ' Crisis ' became the piece it is.
When I thought it my duty, I thank God I had np farther con
sideration for myself than to do it in a lawful and proper way, so
as to give no disparagement to a glorious cause firom my indis
cretion, or want pf judgement. I was willing to ripen the ques
tion ofthe Succession upon my own head."
In the Miscellaneous Works of Dr. Wagstaffe, printed by
Bowyer in 1726, occurs the Character of Steele, written at the
latter end of Queen Anne's reign, after he had endeavoured
to distinguish himself, in opposition to the existing ministry, by
publishing las ' Crisis.' So far, however, was the author fronj
having any personal pique or enmity against tbe subject of bis
satire, that at the time of his writing it, it is believed, be did
not so much as know him even by sight ; nor, indeed, was it
ever in his nature to bear malice against any man.

294 SIR RICHARD STEELE.
of them are to get him chosen for the next parUa
ment, that he may carry on his insults there, and
obtain the honour, as another of their haughty
lead ers has afready done, of being expeUed the
House." The event showed, that this warning was pro-
phetic ; for upon the meeting of parUament, immedi
ately after Sfr Thomas Hanmer had been proposed
as Speaker, Mr. Steele, having previously expressed
his concurrence in that nomination, proceeded to
animadvert upon some recent transactions in a
manner which occasioned no smaU commotion. The
ministry therefore, determined to lose no time in
endeavouring to obviate the efforts of so resolute
a member. Accordingly, on the twelfth of March
Mr. Auditor Foley, the cousin of the Earl of Oxford,
made a formal complaint of three printed pamphlets
pubUshed under the name of Mr. Steele, as contain
ing several paragraphs tending to sedition, highly
reflecting upon her Majesty, and arraigning her ad
ministration and government ; which pamphlets being
laid upon the table, Mr. Steele was ordered to attend
in his place,
On making his appearance, he freely acknowledged
the pamphlets, and the several paragraphs therein
which had been read to the House, to be part of his
writings ; and added, that ' he wrote them'in behalf
of the House of Hanover, and now owned them with
the same cheerfulness and satisfaction with which he
had abjured the Pretender.' He, then, desfred per
mission to answer the accusation paragraph by para
graph ; but though he was powerfuUy supported, it
was carried, that ' he should defend himself generaUy
upon the charge made against him.' In this he was

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 295
assisted by his friend Addison,* member for Malms-
bury, who sat near him to prompt him upon occasion;
and in a speech of nearly three hours, he vindicated
himself with such temperate and manly eloquence, as
gave entfre satisfaction to aU who were not inveter-
ately prepossessed against him.
But though the two brothers Robert and Horace
Walpole, Lords Finch, Lumley, and Hinchinbroke,
and several other members spoke with great spfrit
in his favour, it was voted by 245 against 152,
1. ' That a printed pamphlet, entitled the ' Eng
Ushman,' being the close of the paper so caUed, and
one other pamphlet, entitled the ' Crisis,' written by
Richard Steele Esq., a member of that House, were
scandalous and seditious Ubels, containing many ex
pressions highly reflecting upon her Majesty, and
upon the nobUity, gentry, clergy, and Universities
of this kingdom ; maUciously insinuating, that ' the
Protestant Succession in the House of Hanover wa^
in danger under her Majesty's administration,' and
tending to aUenate the affections of her Majesty's
good subjects, and to create jealousies and divisions
among them :
2. That Richard Steele Esq., for his offence in
writing and pubUshing the said scandalous and sedi-r
tious Ubels, be expeUed the House.'
He now determined to exert his talents in the
way, to which he had been so long accustomed, and
accordingly pubUshed two periodical papers : the first,
* Addison received the speech, delivered upon this occasion by
Steele, from Sir Robert Walpole, who was able however on the
ensuing day to pronounce a second of a totally different struc
ture, though not of inferior merit, in his own person. See the
Life of Walpole.

696 SIR RICHARD STEELE.
caUed the * Spinster,' appeared in Febmary, 1714;
and the second, under the name of the ' Reader,'*
in the AprU foUowing. In the sixth number of the
latter, he gives an account of his design to draw up
the History of the Duke of Marlborough, from the
date of his Grace's commissions of Captain General
and Plenipotentiary to their expiration ; of which
history, ' the proper materials,' as he informs us,
* were in his custody : ' but the work was never ex
ecuted. He wrote, however, several poUtical pieces about
this time ; and pubUshed Ukewise a treatise, entitled
' The Romish Ecclesiastical History of late Years.'
This, he observes, is no more than a statement of
some coUateral and contemporary cfrcumstances and
secret passages, joined to an account of the ceremony
of the last inauguration of the saints by his HoU
ness the Pope ; which furnishes a Uvely idea of the
pageantry used in that church to strike the imagi
nation ofthe vulgar, and needs only to be repeated to
give any serious man an abhorrence of their idolatry.
The object of it was, to prejudice the cause ^ of the
Pretender, then supposed to be gaining ground in
England; and the subjoined Appendix consists of
particulars admfrably calculated for the purpose.
As he was extremdy zealous for the succession of
the House of Hanover, he presented to George I., on
the eighth of April 1715, an address (which had been
drawn up by himself) from the Lieutenancy of Mid
dlesex and Westminster. He had, some time before,
been appointed a Justice of Peace, and one of the
Deputy Lieutenants, for that county. He now re-
* In opposition to the ' Examiner.'

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 297
ceived the honour of knighthood ; and was shortly
afterward appointed Surveyor ofthe Royal Stables at
Hampton Court. He, subsequently, obtained a share
in the patent of one of the play-houses, which was
productive of considerable emolument ; and he was
elected member for Boroughbridge in Yorkshire. But
these were compensations greatly inadequate to his
pretensions.* And, as he continued to want economy,
he was stiU frequently involved in difficulties, f
As a member of parUament, Sfr Richard Steele
appears always to have behaved with great pubUc
spirit ; but this did not tend to advance his fortune,
in the reign either of Queen Anne, or of her suc
cessor. He, also, engaged in some projects, which
were not advantageous to him. In 1717, he was
appointed one of the Commissioners for inqufring
into the estates forfeited by the Scottish rebelUon.
This appointment carried him into that part of the
* In August 1715, indeed, he received from Sir Robert Wal
pole, ' for special services,' 5001, But this, which was strongly
misrepresented at the time, is fully explained in Nicbol's Life
of Welsted, prefixed to his Works, octavo, 1787.
f Upon one of these occasions, having invited to his house a
number of persons of the first quality, he surprised them by the
number of liveries which surrounded the table. After dinner, one
of them inquiring, ' How sucb an expensive train of domestics
could be consistent with his fortune ? ' ' They were fellows,' he
replied, < of whom he would very willingly be rid.' Being then
asked, ' Why he did not discharge them ? ' he confessed that
they were * bailiffs, who had introduced themselves with an
execution ; and whom, since he could not send them away, he
had thought it convenient to embellish with liveries, that they
might do him credit while they stayed.' Diverted with the ex
pedient, his guests by paying the debt discharged the attend
ance ; obliging him however to promise, that • they should never
find him again graced wit^ a retinue of a similar kind.'
4

29S SIR RICHARD STEELE.
United Kingdom, where he received from some of
the nobUity and gentry distuiguished marks of re
spect. WhUe he remained in the North, he conceived
the project of forming an union between the two
Churches, and for this purpose held conferences
with several of the Presbyterian ministers on the
restoration of episcopacy. A striking feature," indeed,
in his character was, that of being a projector; at
once both an effect and a cause of his perpetual
embarrassments. A plan for conveying fish aUve' to
market, for which he obtained a patent in 1718,
instead of retrieving his affaijrs, only involved them
more deeply.
In 1719, he pubUshed a ' Letter to the Earl of
Oxford,' concerning a biU for Umiting the peerage,
which he had previously opposed in the House , of
Commons.* He, also, wrote against it in a periodi
cal paper caUed the ' Plebeian ; ' upon which occasion,
Addison opposed him in another periodical paper,
entitled the ' Oki Whig.'
About this time, his Ucence for acting plays was
revoked, and his patent at the instance of the Lord
Chamberlain rendered ineffectual ; a stroke the more
afl[lictive, as it came from the hand of one to whom
he had dedicated his political writings, and whose
patronage he most gratefuUy acknowledges. This
was the Duke of Newcastle, who upon his appoint
ment to the Chg,mberlainship, sent for Steele and his
co-partners, and in an absolute manner offered them
a Ucence, demanding the resignation of thefr patent,
• He voted for the repeal, of the Triennial Act,' and ofthe
Occasional Conformity and Schism Acts.

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 299
which Sfr Richard presumed as absolutely to refuse.
He, at the same time, petitioned the King for his
protection, in the grant which he had conferred upon
him. Thus the matter rested for many months. The
next molestation which the managers received was,
the Chamberlain's order to dismiss Mr. Cibber. They
obeyed : but Steele in a Letter to the Duke, expressd
his sorrow, that ' his Grace would give him no better
occasion of showing his duty than by bearing oppres
sion from him.' The reply was a message, forbid
ding the author of it ' ever to visit him, or to write
or speak to him any more.' Steele, immediately,
appealed to the pubUc. He had recently formed the
plan of a periodical paper, under the title of the
* Theatre,' of which some numbers had already ap
peared:* and, in this, he gave a particular detaU
of the origin and progress of the whole affafr. Soon
afterward he pubUshed, ' The State of the Case
between the Lord Chamberlain of his Majesty's
Household, and the Governor of the Royal Com
pany of Comedians, with the Opinions of Pem-
* It was in No, 12 of this publication, that Steele inserted
the beautiful contrast between himself and Mr. Addison :
" There never was a more strict friendship, than between these
gentlemen ; nor had they ever any difference, but what proceeded
from their different way of pursuing the same thing. The one
with patience,, foresight, and temperate address always awaited
and stemined the torrent ; while the other often plunged himself
into it, and was as often taken out by the temper of him, who
stood weeping on the bank for his safety, whom he could not
dissuade from leaping into it. Thus these two men lived for
some years last past, shunning each other, but still preserving
the most passionate concern for their mutual welfare. But when
they met, they- were as unreserved as boys, and talked of the
greatest affairs, upon which they saw where they differed, with
out pressing (what they knew impossible) to convert each other."

300 SIR RICHARir STEELE.
berton, Northy, and Parker concerning the Theaitre.'
In this pamphlet he computes the loss, which he
had sustained by the measure in question, at little
less than 10,000/. He then declares, that he never
did one act to provoke the attempt : " nor does the
Chamberlain pretend to assign any direct reason of
forfeiture, but openly and wittingly declares, ' He
wUl min Steele ; ' which, in a man in his circumstan
ces against one in mine, is as great as the humour of
Malagene in the comedy, who valued himself upon
his activity in tripping up cripples."
While Steele was sinking under this persecutioij,
he was rudely attacked from another quarter. At
the commencement of his ' Theatre,' he had assumed
the name of Sfr John Edgar ; and, under that appel
lation, he was now most injuriously treated by Dennis
in a scurrilous pamphlet, entitled ' The Character and
Conduct of Sfr John Edgar, caUed by himself Sole
Monarch of the Stage in Drury Lane, and his three
Deputy Governors ; in two Letters to Sir John
Edgar.' To this insult he repUed in the ' Theatre;'
treating his adversary, as the impotence of the attack
was unworthy a serious rebuke, with his usual gayety
and good humour.
In the midst of these private concems, he fauwl
time to employ his pen in the service of the public,
by writing against the mischievous South Sea scheme.
His first piece on this topic was called, ' The Crisb
of Property.' This was, speedUy, foUowed by 'A
Nation a FamUy; or, A Plan ofthe Impimemmtd
the South Sea Proposals,' He, likewise, introdticed
the subject into the ' Theatre;' and, by, his .spuited
opposition to the project, greatly frjcrei^seiJ his jepu-
tatiou as a patriot.

SIR RICHARD STEELE. SOI
When his patent for the theatre was revoked, his
friend Sfr Robert Walpole had resigned his place of
Ffrst Commissioner of the Treasury : but in the be
ginning of the year 1721, he was recaUed to that
station, and Sfr Richard qmckly experienced the be
nefit of his reinstatement. Within a few weeks, he
was restored to his former authority in Dmry Lane.
Under these happier cfrcumstances, it was not long
before he brought upon the stage his ' Conscious
Lovers,' which has long stood at the head of moral
and sentimental comedies, with the greatest applause.
The profits of this play, accruing from the represen
tation, must have been considerable ; and he pubUshed
it soon afterward, with a dedication to the King, for
tvhich he received a munificent present of 500/.
But, notwithstanding this royal bounty, he was soon
afterward compeUed to throw his affafrs into the
hands of lawyers and trustees : his share in the play
house was sold, and a law-suit commenced with the
other managers, which in 1726 was determined
against him.
His heedless prodigaUty having brought him into
this situation, he determined, out of a principle of
justice to his creditors, to withdraw frimseU" from the
expenses of the capital, whUe he had yet a reasonable
prosped of satisfying thefr demands. Accordingly,
he retired to fais seat at Langunnor, near Caermar-
then, in Wales. But his good intentions were, in a
great measure, disappointed: for he had not been long
in this retirement, before he was seized with a para
lytic disorder, which vitaUy impaired his understand
ing ; and having languished for some time, he died
September 21, 1729, and was privately interred ac-

S02 SIR RICHARD STEELE.
cording to his own desfre, in the church of Caer-
marthen. He was a man of undissembled and extensive be
nevolence ; a friend to the friendless, and as far as
his cfrcumstances would permit, a father to the or-
phan. His works are chaste and manly; he himself
admfred Virtue, and he drew her as lovely as she is.
He celebrates a generous action, with a warmth pecu
liar to a good heart. He was a stranger to the most
distant appearance of envy or malevolence,' never
jealous of any man's growing reputation,* and so far
from arrogating any praise to himself from his con
junction with Addison, that he was the first who de
sfred him to distinguish his papers in the ' Spectator,'
and after the death of that friend was a faithful
guardian of his fame. His greatest error was, want
of economy. It is said, in Cibber's ' Lives of the
Poets,' " He was the most agreeable, and (if we may
be aUowed the expression) the most innocent rake that
ever trod the rounds of indulgence."
" In the ' Tatler ' (observes one of his contempora
ries) he began a work, which at once refined our lan
guage and improved our morals. None ever at
tempted with more success to form the mind to vir
tue, or poUsh the manners of common Ufe ; none ever
touched the passions in that pleasing prevaiUng me
thod, or so weU inculcated the most useful and in
structive lessons. I say, none did ever thus happily
perform so important a work as these Ulustrious col-
* Before Pope's Messiah was inserted in the Spectator, the
author submitted it to the perusal of Steele, and corrected it in
compliance with his criticisms. From Pope this was no incon
siderable tribute to the judgement of Steele.

SIR RICHARD STEELE. SOS
legues, who by adapting themselves to the pleasures,
promoted the best virtues of human nature ; insinu
ated themselves by aU the arts of fine persuasion;
employed the most deUcate wit and humour in the
cause of truth and good sense ; * nor gave offence to
the most rigid devotees or loosest debauchees, but
soon grew popular, though advocates of vfrtue.
" He spoke in parUament, and appeared from the
press, with a warm and generous freedom. He dif
fered from those in authority, without UbeUing thefr
persons : no scandalous paraUds, no ungentlemanUke
invectives or womanish raUings, are to be found in his
writings. He spoke to facts, and things of pubUc
concern, nor invented nor revived any Uttle stories to
blacken the reputation of others; in short, he was at
war with no man's fortunes or places ; and he greatly
despised all lucrative considerations.
" Add this to his character, he had an enthusiasm
of honour, insomuch that he was always most ready
to appear for the truth, when it was most difficult and
dangerous : he thought himself obUged to stand in
the breach, when no man else would ; and his intre
pidity was a pubUc advantage.
" Witness his memorable Address to the Clergy in
Defence of the Revolution ; I mean, his ' Crisis,' for
* Perhaps, however, in it's reference to the Bangorian con
troversy, though the peevishness of Bishop Blackall (so admi
rably parodied in the Letters of the Puppet-showman) deserved
reprehension, it handled a subject too serious for the kind of ridi
cule made use of: and, assuredly, it's wit was mis-employed upon
the Royai Society, " of which the enemies," says Dr. Johnson,
'.' were for some time very numerous and very acrimonious, for
wbat reason it is hard to conceive ; since the philosophers pro
fessed not to advance doctrines, but to produce facts." (Lifeqf
Butler, J

304 SIR RICHARD STEELE.
which he was immortaUsed by the resentment of hi*
enemies, and by the noble stand he made against
them in his brave defence. For this he was expeUed
the House of Commons, whUe he triumphed in the
judgement of his country ; and raised such a spirit
in the people by his writings, as greatly contributed
to save our decUning Uberties, and estabUsh the pre
carious Succession.
" Such was his conduct, such his character, which
was invariably honest.* He flattered not his fiiends
in their power, nor insulted his enemies in their dis-
tress : he opposed any measures, which he could not
approve ; and exactly adhered to that exceUent sen
tence, jTarf qu(B sentiat.
" This, indeed, was his principle ; and if ever man
always acted inviolably by his opinion, or dared to
preserve his integrity upon aU occasions, SfrEichMd
Steele was the person."
By his second wife he had two sons, Richard and
Eugene, f and a daughter, EUzabeth. The latter
alone survived him. She was married young, in
1732, to the Hon. John Trevor, then one of the
Welsh Judges, and afterward Baron Trevor of Brom-
ham ; and had issue by him a daughter named Diana,
who was remarkably beautiful, but imhappUy an
idiot. * Whiston, however, has related that, having once met with
Steele after he had given a vote in parliament contrary to some
former declarations, and reproached him for his inconsistency,
tbe Knight replied, « Mr. Whiston, you can walk on foot, but I
cannot." f Godson to the celebrated Prince of that name, of whom
Steele has drawn up a deservedly high character in the ' Specta
tor,' No. 34.0, dated March 31, 1712. A little before this time,
tbe Savoyard General had made a visit to London.

§IR RICHARD STEELE. 80.?
Beside the ' Epistolary Correspondence of Sfr Ri
chard Steele,' Mr. Nichols, also, repubUshed several
of his pieces in one volume 8vo., in a collection en
titled, ' Th^ Town-TaUi.; The Fish-Pool; The Ple
beian ; The Old Whig ; The Spinster, &c. By the
authors of the Tatler, Spectator, ahd Guardian ;' with
notes and iUustrations.

VOL. V. X

806

FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
BISHOP OF ROCHESTER.*

[1662—1731.]

Francis atterbury was bom at mtoa
Or Middleton Keynes near Newport Pagnel in
Buckthgliamshfre, March 6, 1662-3. He was the
son of Dr. Lewis Atterbury, Rector of MUton, and
was educated on the foundation at Westminster
School. Thence he removed to Christ Church,
Oxford, where he speedUy distinguished himself by
his wit and leaming. Of the elegance of his taste
and his classical attainments he gave early proofs,
in a Latin version of Mr. Dryden's ' Absalom and
Achitophel,' f a translation of two Odes and part
of an Epistle of Horace, an Eclogue of VfrgU, and an
IdyU of Theocritus, a Latin Elegy and two Latift
Epigrams, _two short Songs, an Impromptu, and
an EngUsh Epigram upon the fan of Miss Osborne,
whom he subsequently married, f It is rather singular,
that his name should not have appeared in any ofthe
• Authorities. Biographia Britannica, Atterbury's Epis
tolary Correspondence, and Coxe's Life qf Sir Robert Walpole.
f Published in 1682.
% She was of the family of the Duke of Leeds, was a celebrated
beauty, and had a fortune of 7000/.

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. 307
complimentary verses {'Lucius,' or - Gratulationes')
which usuaUy issued from the academical press upon
pubUc occasions.* His maturer pen, however, pro
duced some poUtical squibs, and (more to his credit)
some elegant epitaphs. In 1690, his zeal for the
memory of a favourite writer induced him to compose
a Preface to the ' Second Part of Mr. WaUer's Poems.'
In 1684, he edited the ' Av^oXoyia,, seu Selecta quce-
dam Poemata Italorum, qui Latin} scripserunt ;*
which was repubUshed in an enlarged form by Mr.
Pope in 1740, with the omission of his friend's
exceUent Preface ! *
He took the degree of B.A. in 1684, and of M.A.
in 1687. In the latter of these years he pubUshed, in
opposition to Obadiah Walker (who had assumed the
name of Abraham Woodhead) a popish writer, ' An
Answer to some Considerations on the Spirit of Mar
tin Luther, and the Original of the Reformation.'
This spirited performance, though it did not escape
animadversion, induced Burnet to rank him among
the divines justly signaUsed by thefr admfrable de,-
fences of the Protestant faith; and in the author's
speech at his subsequent trial, as weU as by his coun
sel, it was referred to as a conclusive proof of his zeal
in that cause. During his stay at the University, he

• The admirable translation of Gate's Speech, ' It must be so,
&c.' into Latin iambics, ascribed by common fame to Atterbury,
we are assured (as is elsewhere stated) by Mr. Horace Walpole,
" was the work of Dr. Henry Bland, afterward Master and Pro
vost of Eton, and Dean of Durham : Sir Robert Walpole him
self having given it to Mr. Addison, who was extremely sur
prised at the fidelity and beauty of it." See the ' Spectator,'
No. 628, on « Eternity.'
X 2

308 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
took an active part* in the celebrated controversy
between Dr. Bentley and the Hon. Charles Boyle,
afterward Earl of Orrery, concerning the genuineness
trf Phalaris' Epistles ; and vsTote indeed more than
half the book, published imder the name of the latter,
who for four months was his pupil. He was not
quite satisfied, however, with his situation at Oxford,
thinking himself quaUfied for more adive and im
portant scenes. In a letter to his father, dated
Oct. 24, 1690, he says, " My pupU I never had a
thought of parting with, tiU I left Oxford^ I wish
I could part with him to-morrow on that score ; fot
I am perfectly wearied with this nauseous cfrcle of
smaU affafrs, that can now neither divert nor instruct
me. I was made, I am sure, for another scene; and
another sort of conversation ; though it has been my
hard luck to be pinned down to this. I have thought
and thought again. Sir, and for some years, nor have
I ever been able to think otherwise, than that I am
losing time every minute I stay here. The only be
nefit I ever propose to. myself by the place is, study
ing ; and that I am not able to compass. Mr. Boyle
takes up half my time, and I grudge it him not ; for
he is a fine gentleman, and while I am with him, I
vriU do what I can to make him a man. CoUege and
university business take up a great deal more, and I ^
* In a letter dated « Chelsea, 1698,' he informs us, the matter
bad cost him some time and trouble. " In laying the design of
the book, in writing above half of it, in reviewing a good part of
the rest, in transcribing the whole and attending the press, half 4
year bf my life went away." The whole was the combined effort
of a club of wits ; of which Atterbui"y appears, in this instance
at least, to have been the President.

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. 309,
am forced to be useful to the Dean in a thousand
particulars : so that I have very little time."
His father, in reply, observes : " I know not what
to think of your uneasiness. It shows unUke a
Christian, and savours neither of temper nor consi
deration. I am troubled to remember it is habitual.
You used to say, ' When you had your degrees, you
shoidd be aMe to swim without bladders.' You
seemed to rejoice at your becoming Moderator, and
of your quantum and Sub-lecturer. . But neither of
these pleased you : nor was you wiUing to take those
pupUs the house afforded you, when master; nor
do your lectures please, or noblemen satisfy you.
But you make yourself and friends uneasy : cannot
trust Providence.
" Do your duty, and serve God in your station,
until you are called to somewhat better. Man's ways
are not in himself, nor can aU your projecting change
the colour of one of your hairs, which are numbered,
and a sparrow faUs not to the ground without a di
vine oversight. What may we think of our stations ?
You need not doubt, but I could wish you aU the
great things you are capable of; but I can neither
secure them to you nor myself, but must leave aU to
time and Providence. I am not wanting in pains
and prospect, and deny myself more in toiling and
sparing than you ever did or wiU do ; and aU I see
to Uttle purpose, when it is of no better effect with
you." Though his appUcation to study was intense, both
in poUte Uterature and in mathematics, he was emi
nently distinguished for his social quaUties. Among
,his more immedjeite friends were classed Smalridge,

S10 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,.
Whitfield, Hickman, Charlett, Harrington, Newton,
King, TraveU, Gough, and the two brothers Robert
and John Freind. By his tutors at Westminster,^
Busby and Knipe, he had been particularly noticed,
as he was subsequently at Christ Church by Dr,
Aldrich. At the latter seminary, in I69O, he. ap
pears to have held the censorship, as weU as the ca
techetical ledureship founded by Dr. Busby. About
this period he, probably, took orders, and repafred to
London : for, in 1691, he was elected lecturer of St,
Bride's, London ; and, in 1693, minister and preacher
at BrideweU Chapel. He was, soon afterward, ap
pointed one of the Royal Chaplains. The earliest etf
his sermons in print was preached before Queen Maiy
at Whitehall, May 29, 1692.
In 1694, he deUvered his celebrated Discourse, at
BrideweU Chapel, on ' The Power of Charity to cover
Sin ; ' to which Mr. Benjamin Hoadly, afterward
Bishop of Winchester, published some 'Exceptions.'*
In 1698, he was appointed by Sfr John Trevor,
a great disceraer of abiUties, Preacher at the Rolls
Chapel. In 1700, he engaged in the controversy with Dr,
Wake, subsequently Archbishop of Canterbury, and
others conceming Convocations. His first piece upon
fhis subject was entitled, ' The Rights, Powers, and
PrivUeges of an EngUsh Convocation stated and rin-
* In the Postscript to his ' Second Letter to Dr. Atterbury,'
subsequently to their controversy, mentioned below, concerifing
• The Advantages of Virtue with respect to the present Life.'
In this he ace uses. Atterbury, and not without just grounds, of
having asserted, that « God will accept one duty (Charity) in
Ueu of many others.'

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. su
dicated, in answer to a late book of Dr. Wake's, en
titled, ' The Authority of Christian Princes over thefr
Ecclesiastical Synods asserted, &c.' * In this piece he
treated Jiis antagonist's work as ' a shaUow empty
performance, written without any knowledge of our
constitution, or any skUl in the particular subject of
debate ; upon such prindples, as are destructive of all
our civU, as weU as ecclesiastical Uberties ; and with
such aspersions on the clergy, both dead and Uvings
as were no less injurious to the body, than his doc
trine.' " The ve*y best construction (he teUs us) that
has been put upon Dr. Wake's attempt by candid
readers is, that it was an endeavour to advance the
prerogative of the prince in church-matters as high,
and to depress the interest of the subjed spiritual as
low, as ever he could with any colour of truth." — •
" Were aU he says strictly true and justifiable, yet
whether the labouring the point so heartUy as he does,
and showing himself so wiUing to prove the church
to have no rights and privileges, be a very decent part
in a clergyman, I leave his friends to consider. But
when aU a man advances is not only Ul-designed, but
* This celebrated work underwent a serious scrutiny by die
Judges in consultation,' as being supposed to affect the royal pre
rogative. The Chief Justice Holt was strongly of that opinion,
in common with Archbishop Tenison, and other high authorities.
To every attempt, however, made to prejudice King William
against him, his Majesty remained indifferent ; and if the author
incurred heavy censure on one side, on the other he was recom
pensed by the steady attachment of Sir Jonathan Trelawny
Bishop of Exeter, Lawrence Earl of Rochester, and Dr. Sprat.
The first edition had appeared anonymously; but, in 1701, he
published a second (greatly enlarged) with hi? name, and a de
dication to the two Archbishops, which was speedily answered
by Drs. Hody, Kennet, and Wake.

3i> FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
Ul-grounded, and his prindples are as false as they
are scandalous (as I have evidently proved his to be),
there are no names and censures too bad to be be
stowed on such writers and thefr writings."
Against this performance Bishop Bumet wrote a
piece, in which he observes, that " he had so enthely
laid aside the spirit of Christ and the character of ^
Christian, that without large allowances of charity
one can hardly think that he did once reflect on the
obUgations he lay under to foUow the humUity, the
meekness, and the gentleness of Christ. So far from
that, he seems to haive forgotten the common decen
cies of a man, or of a scholar." — " A book writteii
with that roughness and acrimony of spirit, if well
received, would be a much stronger argument against
the expediency of a Convocation, than any he brings
or can bring for it."
Dr. Wake, in the Preface to his ' State ofthe Church
and Clergy of England in their CouncUs, SynodS)
Convocations, &c.' says that, ' upon his first perusal
of Dr. Atterbury's book, he saw such a spirit of wriath
and uncharitableness, accompanied with such an as
surance of the author's abUities for such an under
taking, as he had hardly ever met with in the like
degree before.' *' In my examination of the whole
book (he subjoins) I find in it enough to commend the
wit, though not the spirit of him who wrote it. To
pay what is due even to an adversary, it must be al
lowed, that Dr. Atterbury has done all that a man of
forward parts and a hearty zeal could do, to defend
the cause which he has espoused. He has chosen
the most plausible topics of argumentation ; and he
has eiven them all the advantae-e. that either a

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. 313
«prightly wit or a good assurance could afford them.
But he wanted one thing ; he had not tmth on his
side : and error, though it may be palliated, and by
an artificial manager (such as Dr. Atterbury, without
controversy, is) be disguised, so as to deceive some
times even a wary reader, yet it wiU not bear a strict
examination. And accordingly I have shown him,
notwithstanding aU his other endowmentSj, to have
deluded the world with a mere romance ; and from
the one end of his discourse to the other to have de
Uvered a history, not of what was reaUy done, but of
what it was his interest to make it beUeved had been
done." But Atterbury's zeal for the high claims of the
Church gave so much satisfaction to the Lower House
of Convocation, that they returned him thefr thanks
for his book in 1701 ; and the University of Oxford
also conferred upon him the degree of D. D. by
diploma, without performing exercises or paying fees.
Before this, he had, also, been appointed Archdeacon
of Totness by the Bishop of Exeter. The principles
of that Prelate, respecting both Church and State,
were extremely simUar to those of Dr. Atterbury,
who frequently corresponded with him concerning
the transactions of the Convocation. In one of
Atterbury's letters occurs the foUowing passage: —
" Things go not weU here ; the spirit of modera
tion prevails to an immoderate degree, and the
Church is dropped by consent of both parties. ' Car-
stafrs and the agent for the Irish Presbyterians are
more famiUarly seen, and more easily received, at the
levees of some great ministers (who are caUed our
friends) than honester men." In another, dated
March 11, 1700-1, he says, " Dr. Jane has taken

314 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
the chair, in the Committee for inspecting books
written against the truth of the Christian reUgion.
We sat to-day ; and several books were brought in to
be censured, and an extract from one Toland's ' Chris
tianity not Mysterious,' laid before us. Dr. Jan^ is
very hearty in it, and moved, that we might sit de die
in diem tiU we had finished our business. I bring in
to morrow a book of one Craig, a Scotchman, chap
lain to the Bishop of Sarum (Dr. Bumet), to prove by
mathematical calculation that, ' according to the pre
tension ofthe probabiUty of historical evidence, in such
a space of time (which he mentions) the Christian
reUgion wiU not be credible.' It is dedicated to the
Bishop. We have made a previous order, that 'no
thing done in this Committee shaU be divulged, till all
is finished;' and, therefore, I must humbly beg your
Lordship to keep these particulars secret."
Upon the accession of Queen Anne, in 1702, Dr.
Atterbury was appointed one of her Chaplains in
Ordinary; and, about this time, joined some other
leamed divines in revising an intended edition of
the Greek Testament, with Greek scholia collected
chiefly from the Fathers by Archdeacon Gregory,
He, also, pubUshed several additional pieces relative
to the rights and powers of Convocations. In 1703,
when Dr. Hooper, Dean of Canterbury, was nominated
to the bishopric of St. Asaph's, Atterbury wrote in
the foUowing terms to his friend Dr. Trelawny : " If
the Dean of Canterbury be made Bishop, with a de
sign to give him the chief hand in the administration
of ecclesiastical affafrs (as is supposed, and as indeed
the circumstances of his advancement seem to show,
for that sought him, a.nd not he it : and my Lord
Treasurer wrote a letter to him, telUng him ' it was

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. 315
the Queen's command that he should take it, and ne
cessary in order to her affafrs;' and your Lordship sees
that he hath more favour showed him in the com-
mendam, than ever any Bishop in your Lordship's,
time had). If so, my Lord, I am sure to be oppressed
and kept under, as much as if Archbishop TUlotson
were alive and at the helm : for that I prepare my-,
self, and God's wiU be done in it ! However, let the
- Dean of Canterbury be as great as he wiU, I must
take the Uberty to say, that it was my poor labours
that made him so. For had not that book I wrote .
procured a Convocation, and given him by that means
an opportunity of forming a strong body of the clergy^
and placing himself at the head of them; he could
not have made it necessary for the crown to take no
tice of him, in order to bring things to a temper, but
would have continued Dean of Canterbury stiU. In
return for this, I know I am to be neglected and
sacrificed, as far as he is able to bring it about : but,
as long as I have your protection and favour, I wiU
not be discouraged."
As Archdeacon of Totness, Dr. Atterbury ad
dressed several visitation-charges* to the clergy, in
one of which, deUvered in 1703, occurs the fol-
lovring passage : " The men, who take pleasure in
traducing their brethren, have endeavoured to expose
those of them v.'^ho appeared steady in this cause,
under the invidious name of ' High Churchmen.'
What they mean by that word, I cannot teU. But if
* Fouir of them accompany his Epistolary Correspondence,
which was completed by Mr. Nichols, in five vols. Svo. in 1798,
and in addition to his tracts contains a vast ma^s of curious and
interesting ecclesiastical histtiry, prefaced by a Life drawn up
with that writer's accustomed accuracy.

316 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
a 'High Churchman' be one, who is for keeping up the
present ecclesiastical constitution in aU it's parts, with
out making any iUegal abatements in favour of such
as either openly oppose or secretly undermine it ; one,
who though he Uves peaceably with aU men of dit
ferent persuasions, and endeavours to win them over
by methods of lenity and kindness, yet is not cha
ritable and moderate enough to depart from the Esta.
bUshment (even whUe it stands fixed by a law) in
order to meet them half-way in thefr opinions and
practices ; one, who thinks the Canons and Rubric of
the Church, and the acts of parUament made in favour
of it, ought strictly to be observed and kept up to, till
they shaU, upon a prospect of a thorough compUance
from those without (if such a case may be supposed)
be released in any respect by a competent authority:
I say, if this be the character of a 'High Churchman,'
how odious a sound soever that name may carry, I
see no reason why any man should be displeased with
the title, because such a ' High Churchman ' is cer^
tainly a good Christian and a good EngUshman."
In October, 1704, he was advanced to the deanery
of CarUsle, and by his steadfast friend Trelawny made
Canon of Exeter. Two years afterward, he had a
dispute with Mr. Hoadly, conceming ' the Advantages
of Virtue with respect to the Present Life.' ^ In
* This controversy originated from Atterbury's Sermon at
the funeral of Mr. Bennet a bookseller, in which, as Hoadly
thought, he bad laid down some pernicious propositions. In a
long preface to this Discourse, the preacher from the concurrent
testimonies of the ablest expositors and divines, especially ofthe
English Church, vindicated his interpretation ofthe text, 1 Cor.
XV. 19. This Preface was answered by Hoadly in another Letter ;
and from the Preface to bis « Tracts' we learn, tbat his object in
both was, ' to establish the tendency of virtue and morality to the
6

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. S17
1708, he pubUshed a volume of Fourteen Sermons;
of which that on ' the Power of Charity to cover Sin,"
involved him in a second conflict with his old antago
nist Hoadly : another Ukewise, entitled ' the Scorner
incapable of true Wisdom,' subjected him to some
acrimonious censure from a friend of Sfr Robert
Howard, to whose ' History 6f ReUgion ' he was sup
posed to have aUuded.
At the beginning of the year 1709, he appears to
have been greatly offended, because the Queen had
prorogued the Convocation. Dean Swift, in one of
his letters written at this period, says ; " As for the
Convocation, the Queen had thought fit to prorogue
it, though at the expense of Dr. Atterbury's displea
sure, who was designed their Prolocutor and is now
raving at the disappointment." In this year, occurred
his thfrd controversy with Mr. Hoadly, conceming
the doctrine of Non-resistance. The latter in his
tract entitled, ' The Measures of Submission to the
Civil Magistrate considered,' had advanced some posi
tions, which Atterbury endeavoured to confute in an.
elegant Latin Sermon preached before the London
Clergy.* During this debate Hoadly so highly dis
tinguished himself, that the House of Commons, in an
present happiness of such a creature as man is ; ' a point, in his
opinion, of the utmost importance to the Gospel itself.
* To the examination of this Discourse Hoadly was led, in
consequence of his being charged by Atterbury (who sneeringly
called him, " the modest and moderate Mr. Hoadly ") with ' hav
ing adopted toward the body of the Established Clergy language
more disdainful and reviling^ than it would have become him to
have used toward his presbyterian antagonist upon any provoca
tion; charging them with rebellioii in the Church, whilst he him
self was preaching it up in the State.'

dl8 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
Address to the Queen, represented the signal services.
which he had rendered to dvU and reUgious Uberty.
In 1710, came on the celebrated trial of Dr. Sache
vereU, whose speech was generaUy supposed to have
been drawn up by Atterbury,* in conjunction with
Drs. Smalridge and Freind. The same year, he was
ehosen Prolocutor of the Lower House of Convoca
tion, and had the chief management of affkirs in that
assembly. In 1711, a Committee was appointed to
draw up a representation of the present state of the
church, and of reUgion in the nation ; and, after some
heads had been agreed upon, Atterbury (according to
Bumet) procured that the compldion of the matter
might be left to himself: upon which he composed a
most virulent declamation, defaming all the adminis
trations from the time of the Revolution. After a
long and bitter invective upon " the removal of that,
restraint, which th^ wisdom of former times had laid
upon the press," he concludes : " But that, for which
we at present in most earnest and most humble man
ner address ourselves to your Majesty is, that by your
royal interposition an act may be obtained for re
straining the present excessive and scandalous Uberty
of printing wicked books at home, or importing the
Uke from abroad, in such manner as to the wisdom of
your Majesty and parUament shaU seem most expe
dient: for, as we take this to have been the chief
source and cause of those evUs whereof we now com
plain, so we question not but that the removal of it
would be the most speedy and effectual cure of them."
* The assistance was acknowledged perhaps, by implication,
in a testamentary bequest of 500^.

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. 319
The Lower House, it appears, agreed to Atterbury's
draught ; but the Bishops laid it aside, and ordered
another representation to be couched in more general
and more moderate terms.
In 1712, notwithstanding the strong interest of Dr.
Smafridge, Atterbury was appointed by the Tory ad
ministration of Queen Anne, Dean of Christ Church.
Accustomed, however, as (we leam from Stackhouse)
the Canons had been to the njUd and gentle government
of one, who had every thing in him that was endearing
to mankind, they iU-brooked the imperious and despotic
manner of his successor. Such scandalous quarrels
(he adds) ensued among them, that "it was thought
adviseable to remove him, on purpose to restore peace
and tranquUUty to that leamed body, and that other
coUeges might not take the infection : a new method
of obtaining preferment by indulging such a teniper,
and pursuing such practices as least of aU deserve it.
In a word, wherever he came, under one pretence or
other, but chiefly under the notion of asserting his
rights and privUeges, he had a rare talent of foment
ing discord, and blowing the coals of contention^,
which made a leamed successor (Smafridge) in two of
his preferments, complain of his hard fate in being
forced to carry water after him, to extinguish the
flames which his Utigiousness had every where occa
sioned." In 1716, a somewhat curious correspond
ence took place between his Lordship and Swift, who
had consiUted him upon the management of his re
fractory chapter. He continued, in his support of
high ecdesiastical claims, to manifest the most violent
zeal against heresy. In a letter written by him to-
Bishop Trelawny, at the beginning of the year 1713,
he says, " I entfrely agree to aU your Lordship says

ggO FRANCIS ATTERBurV,
in the former part of your letter, with resped to the
blasphemies of Mr. Whiston and Dr. Clarke (for I
cannot give the tenets, even of the latter, a softer
name) ; and wish with aU my soul it were as much
hi my power, as it is in my incUnation, to procure any
thing to be done (either in, or out of. Convocation)
that might effectuaUy check and discourage them."
In June, 1713, he was advanced to the bishopric
of Rochester and deanery of Westminster. At this
period he was held in such estimation at court,, that
he was not unfrequently consulted upon points of the
utmost importance. It has been stated indeed, th^t
he had even raised his views as high as the Primacy;*
and that his credit with the Queen and her ministry
would probably have secured it to him upon a va
cancy, had not his hopes been intercepted by her
Majesty's death. Dr. Warton however affirnis, " It
was with difficulty Queen Anne was persuaded to
make Atterbury a Bishop ; which she did at last on
the repeated importunities of Lord Harcourt, who
pressed her Majesty to do it, because she had before
disappointed him in not placing SachevereU on the
bench. After her decease, Atterbury vehemently
urged his friends to proclaim the Pretender, and on
their refusal upbraided them for their timidity with
many oaths ; for he was accustomed to swear on any
strong provocation." f
* That he looked, with no very moderate ambition, to the
wealthy see of Winchester, is a more probable circumstance;
and of this tbe reversion (it is said) with a pension in the meaH
while of 5,0001. per ann., and an ample provision for his son-iix-
law, was offered to him, if he would cease to oppose Sir Robert
Walpole ; but in vain. The contrivance for his rwn, it is added,
was then determined upon.
t He offered to assist at the proclamation in his lawn-sleeves,

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. 321
Under George I., to whose succession he had al
ways been pertinar4ously adverse, his tide of prosperity
began to tum : his poUtics were weU known ; and he
was coldly received at court. In return, he con
stantly opposed the measures of government in the
House of Lords, and drew up some of the warmest
protests with his own hands. At the close of the
year 1714, he is supposed, in conjunction with
BoUngbroke and Swift, to have written the pamphlet
(by government deemed a Ubel) entitled, ' English
Advice to the Feeeholders of England : ' and, Upon
the breaking out of the rebelUon, he even refused to
sign the ' Declaration of the Bishops ' in favour of
the crown. In this refusal Smalridge concurred, on
the plea of some unbecoming reflexions cast upon a
party, not inferior (as they aUeged) to any in point
of loyalty. Yet when Lord Sunderland courted the
Tories, and made overtures to Atterbury as to the
leader of the disaffected party, his conduct was so
equivocal, that his friends reproached him with
having deserted his prindples, and by his enemies
he was charged with having engaged in a conspfracy
because his demand of the See of Winchester had
been rejected. But^ in Ustening to Sunderland, he
might have hoped to dupe him into espousing the
cause of the Pretender ; and his inflexibUity of cha
racter was such, that one of the least probable of al
legations against him must have'been that of apostasy.
and when Ormond and Bolingbroke declined taking any vigorous
step, is reported to have exclaimed, " Never was a better cause
lost for want of spirit." It is certain, that he was involved in
the schemes of Bolingbroke ; and a letter from , that minister,
soon .after the Queen's death, proves tbe extreme confidence,
with which he had been honoured.
VOL. V. Y

322 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
In 1722, however, he was apprehended on suspi-
cion of being concerned in a plot * jin favour of the
exUed famUy ; and, after an examination before the
Privy CouncU, committed to the Tower. Here
he was kept in rigorous confinement, and as the
administration had not evidence sufficient for his
conviction, on the twenty third of March, 1722-3, a
bUl was brought into the Lower House ' for inflict
ing upon' him certain pains and penalties ; ' of which
a copy was sent to him ; and, upon his appUcation,
counsel f and soUcitors were granted for his defence.
Under these cfrcumstances, he appUed by petition to
the House of Peers, for thefr dfrection and advice:
and on the fourth of April he acquainted the CohJ'
mons by letter, that ' he was determined to give
them no trouble in relation to the biU depending
therein ; but should be ready to make his defence
against it, when it should be argued in another
House, of which he had the honour to be a mem
ber.' On the ninth, the biU passed the Lower House,
and was the same day sent up to the Lords for their
concurrence. On the sixth of May, he was brought to
* Of this plot, as stated in the ? Life of Walpole,' the first
intimation (it appears from Sir Luke Scbaub's Correspondence)
came from the Regent Duke of Orleans, to whom it had been
communicated by the agents of the Pretender, in the hope of
receiving assistance to carry it into execution. In the prosecu
tion of Atterbury, Walpole took a very active share.
This conspiracy, like many other abortive projects of a simi
lar description, has been believed, or disbelieved, rather from
feelings of party than principles of ratiocination. The evidence
was, undoubtedly, only circumstantial and presumptive ; yet the
moral inferences from it were all but irresistible.
t Sir Constantine Phipps and Mr. Wvnne. who both dis-

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. S2S
Westminster to make his defence* which he did by
his counsel. He was, subsequently, permitted to plead
for himseU". His eloquent speech opened in the fol
lowing manner :
" My Lords,
" I have been under a very long and close confine
ment, in which I have been treated by the person, in
whose immediate custody I was, with such severity
and so great indignity, as I beUeve no prisoner in the
Tower of my age, infirmities, function, and rank
ever underwent : by which means, what Uttle
strength and use of my Umbs I had, when com
mitted in August last, are now so far impafred, that I
am unfit to appear before your Lordships on any oc
casion ; especiaUy, when I am to make my defence
against a bUt of so extraordinary a nature and ten
dency. " I mention tlUs, at the entrance of what I have to
say, not so much in the way of complaint as excuse ;
hoping that, if I should faU in any part of my own
justification, your Lordships wUl impute such defect
to the true cause, not my want of innocence or argu
ments to support it (my counsel, I thank them, have
amply showed that I want neither) but to the great
weakness of body and mind, under which I at pre
sent labour. Such usage, such hardships of every
kind, such insults as I have undergone might have
broken a more resolute spirit, and a much firmer con
stitution than has faUen to my share."
He then stated the proceedings and resolutions of
the House of Commons against him ; and speaking
of the pains and penalties, which were to be inflicted
against him by the biU, added, « The person thus
Y 2

324 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
sentenced below to be deprived of aU his prefer
ments, to suffer perpetual exilcj to be rendered in
capable of any office or employment or even of any
pardon from the crown, and with whom no man
must hereafter converse or correspond by letter, mes
sage, or otherwise, without being guilty of felony, is
a Bishop of this Church, and a Lord of ParUament;
the very first instance of a member of this House so
treated, so prejudged, so condemned originally in
ainother ! And may it be the last ! Though such pre
cedents, once set, seldom stand single ; but are apt,
even without a blessing, to be " fruitful and multi
ply " in after-times : a reflexion, that deserves se
riously to be considered by those who, observing that
this case has never before in aU it's circumstances
happened, may too easUy conclude that it wiU never
happen again!".
He, next, entered into a particular examination of
the nature and cfrcumstances of the evidence against
him ; observing, " Our law has taken care, that
there should be a more clear and fuU proof of trea
son, than of any other crime whatsoever : and rea
sonable it is, that a crime attended with the highest
penalties should be made out by the clearest and
fuUest evidence. And yet here is a charge of high
treason brought against me, not only without sufE-
dent evidence, but without any evidence at aU, ie-
any such evidence, as the law ofthe land knows and
aUows. And what is not evidence at law (pardon
me, for what I am going to say) can never be made
such, in order to punish what is past, but by a viola^
tion of the law. For the law, which prescribes the
nature of the proof required, is as much the law of
the land, as that which declares the crime ; and both

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. 325
must join to convict a man of guilt. And it seems
equaUy unjust to declare any sort of proof legal,
which was not so before a prosecution commenced
for any act done, as it would be to declare the act
itself ex post facto to be criminal.
" ShaU I, my Lords, be deprived of aU that is
valuable to an EngUshman (for in the circumstanfces,
to which I am to be reduced, life itself is scarcely
valuable) by such an evidence as this ; such an evi
dence, as would not be admitted in any other cause
in any other court, nor allowed, I verily beUeve, to
condemn a Jew in the Inquisition of Spain or Portu
gal ? ShaU it be received against me, a Bishop of
this Church, and a member of this House, in a
charge of high treason brought in the high Court of
ParUament ? God forbid !
" My ruin is not of that moment to any man, of
any number of men, as to make it worth thefr whUe
to violate (or even seem to violate) the constitution
in any degree to procure it. In preserving and
guarding that against aU attempts, the safety and
the happiness of every EngUshman Ues. But when
once by such extraordinary steps as these we depart
from the fixed mles and forms of justice, and try
untrodden paths, no man knows whither they wiU
lead him, or where he shaU be able to stop whien
pressed by the crowd that foUow him.
" Though I am worthy of no regard, though what
ever is done to me may be looked upon as just, yet
your Lordships wiU have some regard to your own
lasting "interests, and those of the state ; and not in
troduce into criminal cases a sort of evidence, with
which our constitution is not acquainted, and which
under the appearance of supporting it at first may be

326 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
afterward made use of (I speak my honest fears) gra;
duaUy to undermine and destroy it.
" For God's sake, my Lords, lay aside these extra
ordinary proceedings ! Set not these new and dan
gerous precedents ! And I for my part wiU volun
tarUy and cheerfuUy go into perpetual exUe, and
please myself with the thought that I have in some
measure preserved the constitution by quitting my
country; and I wiU live, wherever I am, praying
for it's prosperity, and die with the words of Father
Paul in my mouth, which he used of the Republic of
Venice, " Esto perpetual" The way to perpetuate
it is, not to depart from it. Let me depart ; but let
that continue fixed on the immoveable foundations Of
law and justice, and stand for ever." *
On the seventeenth of March, the biU passed the
House of Lords, and soon afterward received the
royal assent. It's tenor was as foUows : ' That aftei-
the first of June, 1723, he should be deprived of all
his offices, dignities, promotions, and bejiefices eccle
siastical whatsoever, and that thenceforth the same
shaU be actuaUy void> as if he were naturaUy dead:
that he should for ever be disabled, and rendered in
capable, from holding or enjoying any office, dignity,
or emolument within this realm, or any other his
Majesty's dominions; as also from exercising any

* In the course of this speech, he mentions " being en
in a correspondence with two learned men (Bishop Potter, and
Dr. Wall) on settling the times of writing the Four Gospels j"
an object, which he steadily pursued during his banishment,
and had nearly attained at the time of his death. These learned
labours, verified by his published correspondence, amply con
fute the assertion of Bishop Newton, that ' he wrote liftle wliiKt
in exilcj but a few criticisms on French authors.'

BISHOP OP ROCHESTER. 32?
office, ecclesiastical or spfritual, whatever: that he
should suffer perpetual exUe, and be for ever banished
this realm, and aU other his Majesty's dominions :
that he should depart out of the same by the twenty
fifth of the ensuing June ; and if he returned into or
be found within this realm, or any other his Ma
jesty's dominions, after the said twenty fifth of June,
he being thereof lawfuUy convicted should suffer as
a felon without benefit of clergy, and be utterly in
capable of any pardon from his Majesty, his heirsj
or successors : that all persons who should be aiding
and assisting to his retum into this realm, or any
other his Majesty's dominions, or shaU conceal him
within the same, being lawfuUy convicted thereof,
should be adjudged guUty of felony without benefit
of clergy : that if any of his Majesty's subjects (ex
cept such persons, as shaU be licensed for that pur
pose under the sign manual) should after the twenty
fifth of June hold any correspondence in person with
him, within this realm or without, or by letters,
ttiefesages, or otherwise, or with any person employed
by himi knowing such person to be so employed,
they should on conviction be adjudged felons without
benefit of clergy : and, lastly, that offences against
the Act, committed out of this realm, might be tried
within any county of Great Britain.'
This bUl was vigorously opposed by many members
of both Houses, particularly in the House of Peers
by Earl Cowper, though his poUtical principles were
widely different from those of the Bishop. It was
carried, however, by a majority of 83 to 43.
Whether Atterbury indeed was, or was hot, guUty
of being concerned in the plot with which he was
charged, as no proper and legal evidence was pro-

328 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
duced against him, these proceedings were wholly
unjustifiable and unconstitutional.
Before he left the kingdom, he received the fol
lowing letter from his intimate friend Mr. Pope : *
" Once more I write to you as I promised, and this
once, I fear, wiU be the last ! The curtain wUl soon
be drawn between my friend and me, and nothing
left but to wish you ' 9, long good-night.' May you
enjoy a state of repose in this life, not unUke that
sleep of the soul which some have beUeved is to suc
ceed it, where we Ue utterly forgetful of that world
from which we are gone, and ripening fpr that to
which we are to go ! If you retain any inemory of
the past, let it only image to you what has pleased
you best: sometimes present a dream of . an absent
friend, or bring you back an agreeable conversation !
But, upon the whole, I hope you wiU think less of
the time past than of the future ; as the former has
been less kind to you, than the latter infaUibly will
be.. Do not envy the world your studies; they will
tend to the benefit of men, against whom you can
have no complaint, I mean of aU posterity : and per
haps, at your time of life, nothing else is worth your
care. What is" every year of a wise man's life, but^
a censure or critique on the past ? Those, whose date
is the shortest, live long enough to laugh at ope hedf
* In a preceding letter, with a view to engage him in " some
great and useful work," he had reminded him of the names
of « TuUy, Bacon, and Clarendon, and with no very accurate
recollection of their history inquired ; " Is it not the latter, the
disgraced part of their lives, which you most envy, and whicli
you would choose to have lived ? " Clarendon, indeed, wrote
his best works during his banishment ; but the best of Bacon's
were composed before his disgrace, and the best of Tiilly's after
his return.

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. 329
of it : the boy despises the infant, the man the boy,
the philosopher both, and the Christian all. You
may now begin to think your manhood was too much
a puerUity ; and you will never suffer your age to be
but a second infancy. The toys and baubles of your
chUdhood are hardly now more below you, than those
toys of our riper and of our decUning years, the
drums and rattles of ambition, and the dfrt and bub
bles of avarice. At this time, when you are cut off"
from a Uttle society, and made a citizen of the world
at large, you should bend your talents, not to serve
a party or a few, but aU mankind. Your genius
should mount above that mist, in which it's partici
pation and neighbourhood with earth long involved
it : to shine abroad and to heaven, ought to be the
business and the glory of your present situation.
Remember it was at such a time, that the greatest
Ughts of antiquity dazzled and blazed the most, in
thefr retreat, in thefr exile, or in their death. But
why do I talk of dazzUng or blazing ? It was then
that they did good, that they gave light, and that
they became guides to mankind.
** Those aims alone are worthy of spfrits truly great,
^and such, I therefore hope, wUl be yours. Resent
ment indeed may remain, perhaps cannot be quite
extinguished, in the noblest minds; biit revenge
never wUl harbour there : higher principles than those
of the first, and better principles than those of the
latter, wiU infalUbly influence men, whope thoughts
and whose hearts are enlarged, and cause them to
prefer the whole to any part of mankind, especiaUy
to so smaU a part as one's single seU".
" BeUeve me, my Lord, I look upon you as a spirit
entered into another Ufe, as one just upon the edge

330 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
of immortality ; where the passions and affections
must be much more exalted, and where you ought
to despise aU little views, and aU mean retrospects.
Nothing is worth your looking back : and therefore
look forward, and make (as you can) the world look
after you ; but take care that it be, not with pity,
but with esteem and admiration.
" I am, with the greatest sincerity, and passion foy
your fame as weU as happiness, yours, &;c.
"A. Pope."
On the eighteenth of June, 1723, Atterbury em-
barked on board the Aldborough man of war,* and
landed the Friday foUowing at Calais. On going
ashore, being informed that Lord BoUngbroke under
the King's pardon had reached the same place on his
return to England, with an afr of pleasantry he ex
claimed, " Then I am exchanged ! " f He proceeded
to Brussels ; but he afterward left that place, and re
sided at Paris, where he softened the rigours of his
exUe by study, and by conversation and correspon
dence with learned men. He, however, occasion?
aUy employed his time in a different manner;
for from some letters, which were first printed
at Edinburgh in 1768 by Sir David .Dalrymple, it
• As his commitment to the Tower, in consequence of his popu
larity, had occasioned considerable clamors, it was apprehended
that his removal aboard the vessel destined to convey him into
banishment would have been the signal of insurrection: but,
though great numbers of boats attended him to the ship's side,
no tumults took place.
t Mr. Pope, also, observed upon the same occasion, that ' it
was a sign of the nation's being afraid of being over-run with
too much politeness, when it could not regain one great man but
at the expense of another.'

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. 3^1
appears, that in 1725 he engaged in a plot for stir
ring up a rebeUion in the Highlands of Scotland in
favour of the Pretender, but the scheme proved abori
tive. This fact is confirmed by the evidence, not only
of the official despatches of Mr. Horace Walpole
(then minister at the court of France) and the suspi
cious communications of spies, but also of his own
correspondence with his son-in-law. On the same in
disputable authority it is asserted, that he quitted the
Pretender's service in 1728, not upon principle, but
from disgust. Provoked at the influence of Mar and
DUlon, he meanly condescended to cabal against them
with Murray and Hay, whose wife was the Preten
der's mistress ; and upon the success of their intrigues,
transferred his jealousy from his enemies to his as
sociates, his reviUngs from the neglected wife (the
Princess Maria Clementina) to the profligate hus
band, ' whose foUies and vices,' he declared, ' ex
cluded aU hopes of effectuaUy serving him.' Yet did
he not, even then, reUnquish his project of obtaining
the ascendency in the exiled court. The faU of Wal
pole, whom he regarded as the principal support of
the reigning famUy, he anticipated with sanguine-
ness; and, as an inevitable result of that faU, the
restoration of the Stuarts. Hopes continually disap
pointed, and resentments never gratified, a constant
desire to return to England, and the perpetual pres
sure of straitened cfrcumstances, united to depress an4
harass his unhappy mind.
His exUe had been embittered by his separation
from his daughter, between whom and himself there
existed a very strong mutual affection. This lady,
who was married to WiUiam Morris Esq., High
BaUiff" of Westminster, in 1729, though in an in-

332 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
ffrm state of health, conceived an ardent desire to see
her father again ; and accordingly with great diffi.
culty and suffering traveUed to Toulouse, where the
Bishop met her. She died,* a few; hours after
their meeting. The Bishop, shortly after his loss,
addressed the foUowing letter to his intimate friend
Mr. Pope : f
* A pathetic narrative of her decease was drawn up by Mr.
Evans, who accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Morris upon this occa
sion. f Gay, in bis ' Epistle to Pope,' had said;
' See Rochester approving nods his head.
And ranks one modern with the mighty dead : '
and Pope himself (who, as well as Swift, kept up a constant
correspondence with him during his banishment) in bis 'Epilogue
to the Satires,' observes ;
* How pleasing Atterbury's softer hour !
How shines his soul unconquer'd in the Tower!"
How ignorant, however. Pope was of his real character, and
how much Atterbury belied his admirable portrait of a good and
wise man in exile acting under the influence neither of resentment
nor of revenge, was proved by his throwing himself into the ser
vice of tbe Pretender the instant he landed on the Continent.
The origination and progress of Swift's intimacy with Atter-i
bury is given, at great length, in a note. attached by Nichols
to the letter written by tbe former on the promotion of his
friend to tbe deanery of Christ Church, and dated Sept. 1, 1711.
It is amusing to compare with the extract from Dr. Stackhouse,
given in a former note, the quotation of the Irish Dean, anti
cipating tbe farther advancement of the English one, upon the
disappointment of the poor College,
Qui nunc te fraitur credulus aured!
In a subsequent Letter, dated Aug. 3, 1713, from ' The
Country in Ireland' {Latebres nee dukes as he feelingly ob
serves, nee si mihi credis, amcence) congratulating him upon
his migration to Westminster, he begs that even his " being
made a Bishop may not binder him from cultivating the politer

BISHOP OP ROCHESTEB. S33
NoHi. 20, 1729.
" Yes, dear Sir, I have had all you designed for
me ; and have read aU, as I read whatever you write,
with esteem and pleasure. But your last letter, fuU
of friendship and goodness, gave me such impressions
of concern and tenderness, as neither I can express,
nor you perhaps with aU the force of your imagina
tion fuUy conceive.
" I am not yet master enough of myself, after the
late wound I have received, to open my very heart
to you ; and am not content with less than that,
whenever I converse with you. My thoughts are at
present vainly, but pleasingly, employed on what I
have lost, and can never recover. I know weU I
ought, for that reason, to call them off" to other sub
jects ; but, hitherto, I have not been able to do it.
By giving them the rein a Uttle, and suffering them
to spend thefr force, I hope in some time to check
and subdue them. Multis fortunes, vulneribus per-
culsus, huic uni me imparem sensi, et pcenh siiccubui.
This is weakness, not wisdom, I own ; and on that
account fitter to be trusted to the bosom of a friend,
where I may safely lodge all my infirmities. As soon
as my mind is in some measure corrected and calmed,
I wUl endeavour to foUow your advice, and turn it
toward something of use and moment ; if I have stUl
Ufe enough left to do any thing, that is worth read
ing and preserving. In the mean time, I shaU be
r
studies; " and, as an example, suggests to him that his prede
cessor Sprat, " though of a much inferior genius " (yet John
son pronounced, that ' each of Sprat's different books had a
distinct and characteristical excellence ') turned all his thoughts
that way. o

334 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
pleased to hear that you proceed in what you intend,
without any such melancholy interruptions as I have
met with. You outdo others on all occasions ; my
hope and my opinion 13, that on moral subjects, and
in drawing characters, .you will outdo yourself Your
mind is as yet unbroken by age and UI accidents ;
your knowledge and judgement are at the height :
use them in writing somewhat that they may teach
the present and future times, and if not gain equally
the applause of both, may yet raise the envy of the
one and secure the admiration of the other. Re
member VirgU died at fifty two, and Horace at fifty
eight ; and, as bad as both constitutions were, yours
is yet more deUcate and tender. Employ not your
precious moments, and great talents, on Uttle men
and Uttle things : but choose a subject every way
worthy of you, and handle it, as you can, in a man
ner which nobody else can equal or imitate. As for
me, my abiUties, if I ever had any, are not what
they were ; and yet I wUl endeavour to recoUect and
employ them :
— — gelidus tardante senectd
Sanguis hebet, frigentque effceto in corpore vires.
However, I should be ungrateful to this place, if I
did uot own that I have gained upon the gout in the
South of France much more than I did at Paris,
though even there I sensibly improved. What hap^
pened to me here last summer was merely the effect
of my foUy, in trusting too much to a physician,
who kept me six weeks on a mUk-diet without purg
ing me, contrary to aU the rules of the faculty. The
mUk threw, me at last into a fever, and that fever
soon produced the gout ; which, finding my stomach
1

BISHOP OP ROCHESTER. 335
weakened by a long disuse of meat, attacked it, and
had Uke at once to have despatched me. The ex
cessive heat of this place concurred to heighten the
symptoms : but, in the midst of my distemper, I
took a sturdy res6lution of retiring thfrty mUes into
the mountains of the Cevennes; and there I soon
found reUef from the coolness of the afr and the ver
dure of the climate, though not to such a degreo as
not to feel some reUcs of those pains in my stomach,
wMch tUl lately I had never felt. Had I staid, as I
ijitended, there tUl the end of October, I beUeve my
cure had been perfected : but the earnest desfre of
meeting one I dearly loved caUed me abruptly to
MontpeUer; where, after continuing two months
under the cruel torture of a sad and fruitless expec
tation, I was forced at last to take a long journey to
Toulouse : and even there I had missed the person I
sought, had she not with great spfrit and courage
ventured aU night up the Garonne to see me, which
she above all things desired to do before she died. By
that means she was brought where I was between
seven and eight in the morning, and Uved twenty
hours afterward ; which time was not lost on either
side, but passed in such a manner as gave great sa
tisfaction to both, and such as on her part every way
became her cfrcumstances and character : for she had
her senses to the very last gasp, and exerted them to
give me, in those few hours, greater marks of duty
and love than she had done in aU her life-time,
though she had never been wanting in either. The
last words she said "to me were the kindest of all ; a
reflexion on the goodness of God, which had aUowed
us in this manner to meet once more, before we parted

336 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
for ever. Not many minutes after that, she laid her
self on her pUlow, in a sleeping posture,
 pladddque ibi demum morte quievit,
" Judge you, Sfr, what I felt, and stUl feel, on this
occasion; and spare me the trouble of describing
it. At my age, under my infirmities, among utter
strangers, how shaU I find out proper reUefs and
supports ! I can have none, but those with which
reason and reUgion furnish me : and on those I lay
hold, and make use of, as weU as I can ; and hope
that He, who laid the burthen upon me (for wise and
good purposes, no doubt) wUl enable me to bear it,
in Uke manner as I have borne others, with some de
gree of fortitude and firmness.
" You see, how ready I am to relapse into an argu
ment, which I had quitted once before in this letter.
I shaU, probably, again comniit the same fault, if I
continue to write : and, therefore, I stop short here ;
and, with aU sincerity, affection, and 'esteem, bid
you adieu, tiU we meet either in this world, if God
pleases, or else in another.
" A friend I have with me wiU convey this safely
to your hands, though perhaps it may be some time
before it reaches you: whenever it does, it wiU give
you a true account of the posture of mind I was in
when I wrote it, and which I hope may by that time
be a Uttle altered."
During his residence in France, he was exposed to
some trouble from a suspicion of his having facUitated
the escape from that country of Father Courayer^
who had pubUshed in 1727 a ' Defence of the Eng
Ush Ordinations,' to the great vexation of Cardinal

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. SS7
de NoaiUes. The French King and Cardinal Fleury
sent him a message on the subject, by the Lieuten
ant of PoUce ; but after an hour's conversation, as
he himself states in a letter, he satisfied that officer,
that he had done nothing but what became him;
owned his friendship for Courayer, pointed to his
picture hanging up in the room, and acknowledged
that ' he had paid him a visit in his retreat at Han-
ment, and had received from him a fareweU caU in
retum the night before he left Paris.' The Lieuten
ant promised, he adds, to 'justify him both to the
court and the city ;' but the Cardinal, convinced that
the exUed Prelate had been deeply engaged in the
escape, displayed much resentment toward him -on
that account.
A short time before his decease, alarmed lest
his papers should faU into the hands of govern
ment and thus endanger his correspondents, he de
stroyed several of the most important ones, and
iheffectiiaUy soUcited Lord WaldegravO, the EngUsh
Embassador, to affix his sieal to the remainder. To
the French government he, also, made a simUar
appUcation; but some difficulties arising, he with
drew it. After his death John Samples, a ministerial
spys who had wormed himself into the Bishop's inti
macy, endeavoured to obtain possession of them for
the ostensible purpose of transmitting them tP the
Pretender: but the friends ofthe deceased interposed;
the papers were sent to the Scots CoUege, and the
seal of office affixed. His son-in-law and executor,
howfevifer, was permitted to select such 9s related to
famUy-affafrs.*
' * These, which were seized upon tbat gentleman's return fe
VOL. V. Z

S38 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
Hie died at Paris, February 16, 1731t2 ; and his
hody was privately interred with some difficulty 'm
Westmmster Abbey, on the twelfth of May foUow-
kig.* He left one son,f Osborne Atterbury, who
Ei^land, contain part of the correspondence between himself
and his father-in-law, several miscellaneous articles in Atter
bury's hand-writing, and some letters from William Shippen
reJative to the character of Hampden in Clarendon's History,
wbieh Oldmixon alleged * tbe Bishop in conjunction with Smal
ridge and Aldrich had interpolated.' To this accusation Atter
bury published a very satisfactory reply.
* On it's way, the hearse was stopped by the Custom House
officers, on suspicion that some brociades and other prohibited
goods were concealed in the coffin. This occasioned a great
©utcry agatiist the ministry, as if ' their vengeance continued ta
pursue him even after his death.' The Rev. Dr. Hem-y Atter
bury, bis respectable elder brother, died a few months before
him. f Of this son, who was a student of Christ Church, and after
spending the interval between 1725 and 1731 inthe East Indies,
returned to enjoy his uncle Dr. Lewis Atterbury's fortune,
the Bishop in his will (dated Dec. 31, 1725) took no notjpe
whatever. The following letter, addressed to him while at col
lege, is worth preserving : '
• Dear Obey,
' I thank you for your letter, because there are manifest signs
in it of your endeavouring to excel yourself, and by consequence
to please me. You have succeeded in both respects ^ and will
,^ways succeed, if you think it worth your while to, consider
what you write, and to n^bom; and let nothing, though pf a
trifling nature, pass through your pen negligently. Get but the
way of writing correctly and justly; time and use will teach you
to write readily afterward. Not but tbat too much care might
give a stiffness to your stile, which ought, in all letters, by all
means to be avoided. The turn of them should be natural and
easy ; for they are an image of private and familiar conversation.
I mention this with respect to the four or five first lines of yours,
which have an air of poetry, and do therefore naturally resolve
themselves j«tq Wank verses. I send you your letter again, that

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. S3»
was ordained in 1742 by Bishop Hoadly, and in-
1746 obtained the Uving of OxhUl, Warwickshii^fr.
Dr. Atterbury was a man of considerable leaming,*"
an etegant writer, an able speaker in parUament, and'
you yourself may now make tbe same observation. Blityou toot
the hint of that thought from a poem; and it is no wonder^
therefore, that you heightened the phrase a little, when yaw
were expressing it. The rest is as it should, be ; and particu
larly, there is an air of duty and sincerity, that if it comes from
your heart, is the most acceptable present you can make -me.
With these good qualities, an incorrect letter would please me ;>
and, without them, the finest thoughts and language wouldmaket
no lasting, impression upon me. The great Being says, you
know, " My son, give me thy heart;" implying that, without
it, all other gifts signify nothing. Let me conjure you, there
fore, never to say any thing, either in a letter, or common con
versation, that you do not think; but always to let your- mind'
and your words go together, on the most trivial occasions;
Shelter not the least degree of insincerity under the notion of a
compliment ; which, as far as it deserves to be practised by a
man of probity, is only the most civil and-obliging way of 'say
ing what you really mean : and whoever emplo3rs it otherwise,
throws away truth for breeding. I need not tell' you, how little
his character gets by such an exchange.
' I say not this, as if I suspected that in any part of your
letter you intended tb write what was proper, without any re
gard to what was true ; for I am resolved to believe that 'you were '
in earnest, from the beginning to the end of it, as much as I am
when I tell you, that I am • Your loving Father, &c.'
* His learned friend Smalridge, in presenting him as Prolo
cutor to the Upper House of Convocation, stiled him ' Vir in
riullo literarum gehere hospes, in plerisqus artibus et studiis diu et-
felidter ekerdtatus, in maxime perfeetis literarum disdplinis per-
fectissimus.* In his controversial writings, indeed, it must be ad
mitted, he handled too freely the weapons of satire and invec
tive ; more perhaps, howevier, from the natural fervor of his
wit, than from any rancor of disposition. He appears, also,
Z 2

340 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
an exceUent preacher. But, with aU these accom
pUshments, he had other quaUties of a less commend
able nature. He was of that restless and ambitious
disposition, which characterised the Beckets and the
Lauds of preceding times, and was UI disguised by
the affected mUdness and moderation of his epistolary
writings. No fiiend to Uberty, either civU or reli
gious,* he carried ecclesiastical claims to an' extreme
and absurd height. From his own writings it , is
manifest that he would have persecuted, if he had
been possessed of power, and that he was an enemy
to the freedom of the press. ^
He was, on the whole, a man rather of talent
than of genius. He writes more with elegance and
if we' may trust tbe subjoined anecdote, not to have been wholly
free from superstition : A story of a prediction by one Needs,
which announced that ' three persons (one of them Dr. Mews,
Bishop of Winchester) should die in a certain order, within
half a year,' was circulated in that city about tbe beginning of
the eighteenth century. Of their prophecy, Atterbury, no over-
credulous man, having had a full account from persons (as he
conceived) of credit, and of it's having been fulfilled so parti.
cularly as to the other two individuals, including the prophet
himself, sent a detailed statement of the whole to his great
friend. Sir Jonathan Trelawny, who he knew had views toward
Winchester, to incite him to strengthen his interests that way
as much and as fast as he possibly could ! He did so, and got
the bishopric in 1707. {Censura Literaria, V. 98.)
* He carried the acrimony of party so far, as even to suspend
for three years, Mr. Gibbin, Curate of Gravesend, a very worthy
clergyman, fpr having indulged tbe use of his church to the
Chaplain of the Dutch Troops, which were called over to sup
press the rebellion! The inhabitants of Gravesend, however,
subscribed fpr their minister a sum more than double the income
of his church; and hip Majesty, subsequently, bestowed upon
him the rectory of Nprthfle?t in Kent. This learned man, who
bad travelled with Addispn, dfed in 1752.

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. S41
Correctness, than with force of thinking or reason
ing. His letters to Pope, though too much crowded
with trite quotations from the classics, are admfrable
specimens of elegant famiUarity, and by many are
preferred to the more elaborate compositions of his
iUustrious correspondent. It is said, he either trans
lated or intended to translate the Georgics of VfrgU,
and to write the Life of Cardinal Wolsey, whom he
much resembled. Dr. Warburton had a mean opi
nion of his critical abUities, and of his ' Discourse
on the Jlapis of VirgU.' * He was thought to be the
author (of the ' Life of WaUer,' prefixed to the first
octavo edition of that poet's works. His turbulent
and imperious temper was long felt and remembered
in the- CoUege, over which he presided.
. His person, according to another writer, was
weU made : he had a gracefulness in his behaviour,
and a kind of majestic gravity in his looks, that be
spoke him reverence wherever he came. His voice
was not strong ; but there was something so sweet in
his pronunciation, and so insinuating in his address,
as gained him the possession of an audience when
ever he began to speak. Beside this, he had a qUick
penetration, an exquisite understanding, an easy
comprehensioUj, a -sprightly fancy and imagination,
and soUd judgement and good sense, aU united to-J
g-ether. , '

' * Under this name he attempted to prove, that Virgil meant
to characterise his friend Antonius Mnsg, the learned and ac-
cotnplished physician of Augustus, to whom many, also refer his
Catalecton XIII., though Heyne would ascribe the latter to
a learned rhetorician ^)f that name. The same able critic,
likewise (in his Excurs. IV. on Mn. XII. 391.) concurs in War-;
burton's reprobation of Atterbury's theory.

342 FRANCIS ATTERBURY,
" The .Dean of 'Carlisle*has so much regard to his
fCdngKegation," observes Steele,* "that he commife to
Jiis memory what he has to say to them ; and ihas so
soft and graceful a behaviour, that it must attract your
attention. His person, it is to be confessed, is no small
recommendation : but he is to be highly commended
for .not losing that advantage, and adding to apro-
.jHiety of speech, which naight pass the criticism of
Lqnginus, an action which would have been approved
Jby Demosthenes. He has a pecuUar force in his way,
and has many of his audience,! who could npt heui-
teUigent hearers of his discourse, were there not ex
planation as weU as grace in his action. This art cf
his is used with the most exact and hone^ skUli he
never attempts .your ^passions, untU he has convinced
your reason. All the objections, which he can form,
are laid open and dispersed, before he usies the least
vehemence in his sermon : but when he thinks he
Jxa,s your head, he very soon wins your heart ; and
j^ever jiretends to show the he9.uty of hoUness, untU
he .hath convinced you of the truth of it."
Jt should be recorded to his honour that he
remained at aU times true to the Protestant Reli-
^ojj, -and regular in the performance of it's offices.
He warmly reprobated the conduct of the Duke
. of WJhartojj, Lords North and Grey, and others
Twho with a view of obtaining the Pretender's favour
had apostatised from thefr faith : and he even quar-
reUed with the Duke of Berwick, who proposed
giving to the young Duke of ^uckm^am a Catholic
preceptor-t * Tatler, N°. 66,
t At Ifee chapel of Bridewiell Hospital.
X From an anecdote howevpr related, upon Pope'js authorlt)^

BISHOP OF ROCHESTER. 343
His Sermons were printed in four volumes, Svo. ;
the two first by himself in 1726, dedicated to his
patron Trelawny, and the two latter after his death,
by his Chaplain Dr. Thomas Moore. *
by Lord Chesterfield to Maty, it appears that Atterbury was
long a sceptic as to the grounds of that religion, for the esta
blished forms of which he was so zeal6us : though (if this state
ment, indeed, be true) be fortunately lived to discern his error,
and from his religious convictions in the close of his life derive^
the chief consolation of his adversity.
But, if ere may believe the joint evidence of his actions and
his writings, we should receive the stpry with distrust. His
• Sermons on the Miraculous Prppagiation of the Gospel ' and on
a standing Revelation's being the best means of conviction,. b^,ar
important testimony to his faith : and the contempt with wllich
he generally treats unbelievers as an ignorant, superfici'al, or
conceited class, is a tolerably good prpof that be was not on©
himself. A man may conceal, or deny, o^ even prosecute his
own opinions ; but he will not appear to despise those, who hold
them.

344

DR. SAMUEL CLARKE.

[1675— 1729.3

Dr. SAMUEL CLARKE was bom at Norwich
October 11, 1675, and educated in the Free School
of Ihat place, under the care of the Rev. Mr. Burton.
He was the son of Alderman Clarke, who had re
presented Norwich in parUament for several years;
a gentleman of an exceUent natural capadty, and of
untainted reputation. "
In 1691, Mr. Clarke placed his son at Caius Col
lege, Camb4clge, under the tuition of Mr. (afterward
Sfr John) EUis. Here his talents quickly displayed
thenaselves : and such was Ms industry, that he be
came a model of excellence to the whole University.*
When he was Uttle more than twenty one, he greatly
contributed, both by his example and by his trans
lation of Rohault's Physics with Notes, f to the
establishment of the Newtonian philosophy !
• He was characterised, indeed, among the rest^of the stu
dents, by tlie title of ' the Lad of Caius.'
f Rohault had m-Itten as a follower of Descartes: but,^
Newton*^ «5«tem was then little received or understood, Mr.
Clarke thought that an indirect vehicle would best convey his
illustrationfi jaf It; and accordingly his vension, published in
1697, became a igeneral text-book for a considerable period,
and gradually familiarised students with the language and rea-

DR. SAMUEL- CLARKE. S45
Upon his arrival at Cambridge, the, system of
Descartes was the estabUshed theory, and Mr. EUis
was a zealot in it's defence; though, as Bishop
JHoadly justly observes, it was only the invention
of an ingenious and luxuriant fancy; having no
foundation in the reaUty of things, nor any cor
respondency to the certainty of facts. Newton had,
indeed, then pubUshed his '^ Principia:'' but this
book spoke to the inteUigent i^oiie, and requfred ^
commentators for the many; as both it's matter
and it's manner placed it beyond the general reach,
and a strong prejudice in favour of received notions
contributed to obstruct it's reception. But iieith^
the difficulty of the task, nor the respect which he
paid to the dfrector of his stucUes, nor the opposition
of those by whom he was suKrounded, had any in
fluence upon the mind of Clarke. ^
Dissatisfied with arbitrary hypotheses, he speedily
made himself master of the chief parts of the ' New
Philosophy.' From this he took the subject of the
pubUc exercise, which he performed in ihe Schools
to obtain his first degree", and he surprised Ms
audience by the depth of knowledge and the clear
ness of expression, which pervaded the whole dispu
tation. . •
In 1607, he accidentally at a coffee-house in Nor
wich became acquainted with Mr. Whiston, who dis
covering from his conversation that he was a young
man of extraordinary genius, and had made great pro-
gr^s in the Newtonian doctrines, commenced an inti
macy with him. Mr. Clarke had recently taken orders^

sonings of the * Principia.' It was, subsequently, translated into
English by Dean Clarke, his brother, . . .

S46 DR. SAMUEL CLARKE.
and Whiston at that time was Chaplain to Dr. More,
Bishop of Norwich, who deUghted in patponisgig
men of abiUties. That Prelate, on receiving an.sK-.
count of the interview, desfred Alderman Clarke and
his son to dine with him ; and the very next yeafj on
Whiston's promotion to the Uving of Lowestoffe in
SiiffbUs:, appointed Mr. Clarke to succeed him as his
Domestic Chaplain. In this situation, he found suf
ficient leisure to pursue his favourite study, divinity. :
In 1699? he pubUshed three practical Essays upon
Baptism, Confirmation, and Repentance ; and an anq-
nymous piece, entitled ' Reflexions on Part of a Bocik
caUed ' Amyntor.' ' * These compositions are men-

• The propositions maintained in this work, written by
Toland, which Dr. Clarke thought most deserving of considei''^
ation, ^are the three following : >
1. ' That the books ascribed to the disciples and companions
of the Apostles, which are still extant, and at this time thpught
genuine and of great authority (such as the ' Epistle pf Clemens
to the Corinthians,' the * Epistles of Ignatius,' the ' Epistle of
Polycarp to the Philippians,' the ' Pastor of Hermas,' tli?
' Epistle of Barnabas,' &c.) are all, without difficulty, proved to
be spurious;' , .
2. ' That it is easy to show the ignorance, and superstitipii of
the writers of these books ; ' and,
3. • That they, who think these books genuine, ought to re
ceive them into the Canon of Scripture, as their reputed authors
were not less companions and fellow-labourers, of the AppstJes,
than Stjj Mark and St. Luke.
In opposition to these assertions, Dr. Clarke msjintained.the
three following propositions :
1. ' That, though we are not infallibly certain ofthe geni&e*j
ness of the ' Epistles of Clemens, Ignatiijs, Polycarp, and Bar
nabas,' with the ' Pastor of Hermas,' they are generally, and
upon great authority, believed to be genuine ; '
2. ' That therefore, though they are not received as ef the
same authority with the canonical book^ of the New TestaWpti

J3R. SAMUEL CLARKE. 841
tioned by Dr. Hoadly, Bishop of Winchester, not as
equal to the author's other performances, but as dis
playing at once marks of a Christian frame of mind,
and a surprising famUiarity with the writings of the
early Christians.
In 1701, Clarice pubUshed his ' Paraphrase on
the Gospel of St. Matthew,' which was speedUy fol
lowed by those on the other Evangelists; a work,
deservedly held in the highest esteem. His original
design was, to have gone through the whole of the
New Testament in the same manner, giving a simple
representation of it's contents without entering into
abstruse critical commentaries. He had actuaUy
begun, we are told, a ' Paraphrase upon the Acts
of the Apostles,' when something accidental inter
rupted the execution ; and it is now only to be
lamented^ that he did not afterward resume and
complete his labours.
About the year 1702, the Bishop coUated him
to the Rectory of Drayton near Norwich, and pro
cured for him a parish in that city; and these he
served in person, whenever the Bishop was in resi
dence at the palace. His preaching was at first
without notes, and so continued, tUl he became Rector
of St, James'.
In 1704, he was appointed to preach Mr. Boyle^
Lecture. Upon this occasion, he chose for his sub
ject ' The Being and Attributes of God ; ' and suc
ceeded so weU, that he was re-appointed the foUow-
they ought to have a proportional veneration, with respect both
to the authors and to the writings themselves ; ' and,
3. ' That neither tbe belief of their being genuine, nor the
respect paid to ihem as such, in the least derogates from the
authority of the New Testament, or tend to render the number
of the canonical books uncertain or precarious.'

^8 DR. SAMUEL CLARKE.
ing year ; when he deUvered a series of Discourses
upon ' The Evidences of Natural and Revealed Re
ligion.'*
* They were subsequently combined, under the general
title of, ' A Discourse concerning the Being and Attributes
of God, the Obligations of Natural Religion, and the Truth
and Certainty of the Christian Revelation; in Answer to Mr.'
Hobbes, Spinoza, the Author of ' The Oracles of Reason,' and
Other Deniers of Natural and Revealed Religion ; being sixteen
Sermons, preached in the Cathedral Church of St. Paul, in the
Years 1,704 and 1705, at tbe Lecture founded by Robert Boyle,
Esq.' They were originally published in two distinct volumes ; the
first in 1705, and the second in 1706. To the fourth and fifth
editions were added several Letters to Dr. Clarke from a gentle-.
man in Gloucestershire (Dr. Joseph Butler, afterward Bishop.
of Bristol) relating to the Demonstration, &c. with the Author's
answers. Tbe sixth and seventh were, farther, enriched with ' A
Discourse concerning the Connexion bf the Prophecies in the
Old Testament, and the Application of them to Christ ; and, ' An
Answer to a seventh Letter concerning the Argument apriori:'
Mr. Clarke having endeavoured to show, that the Being.ofa
God may be demonstrated by arguments of this denomination.
The reputation of his work, however, could not be diminished
by any thing that came from the pens of his antagonists. How
fer it merited the approbation of the pious and tbe learned, may
be collected from the following character given of it by Bishop
Hoadly :
" He has laid the foundations of true religion too deep and
strong to be shaken either by the superstition of some, or the
infidelity of others. He chose particularly to consider the argu-
ings of Spinoza and Hobbes, the most plausible patrons ofthe
system of Fate and Necessity ; a system which, by destroying
all true freedom of action in any intelligent being, at the same
time destroys all that can be stiled ' virtue ' or ' praise-worthy.'
This being a subject, into which all the subtilties and quirljs of
metaphysics had entered and thrown their usual obscurity and
intricacy, the difficulty lay in clearing away this rubbish of con
fusion ; in introducing a language, that could be understood; in
clothing the clearest ideas in this plain and manly language i

DR. SAMUEL CLARKE. 84f
These Discourses raised his character extremely
high as a close and acute reasoner ; though his meta
physical , arguments h priori for the existence of a
Deity (as it has been observed) were by many deemed,
from their subtilty, less satisfactory than the common
mode of deducing a Ffrst Cause from the effects visi
ble in creation. But Clarke himself does not deny,
that the argument a posteriori is far more generaUy
useful ; and he has employed the opposite one only
against such soi-disant reasoners, as could not be
refuted any other way. Pope * darted at him some
bitter Unes, in his Dunciad, concluding with
— • We nobly take the high jon'ori road.
And reason downward till we -doubt of God.'
But it is not by a splenetic distich or two, that the
reputation of a man Uke Dr. Clarke can be injured.
Nor does the value of his Demonstration seem to
have been impaired in the pubUc opinion by the more
formidable discussion, which it underwent in polemical
controversy. His ' eternal differences, relations, and
fitnesses of things,' indeed, partly gave way to the

and'in concluding nothing, but from such evidence as amounts
to demonstrative. He began with self-evident propositions, from
them advanced to such as received their proof from the former,
and in these took no step, till he had secured the way before
him. Throughout the whole, no word is used but what is intel
ligible to all who are at all versed in such subjects, and what
expresses the clear idea in the mind of him who makes use of
it. All is one regular building, erected upon an immoveable
foundatiion, and rising up from one stage to another with equal
strength and dignity."
* The poet's resentment is supposed to have originated from
Clarke's refusing to intercede for Lord Bolingbroke's return to
Sngland.with an unqualified and unconditional pardon.

S5(* BR. SAMUEL CLARKE.
• innate beauty of virtue,' introduced by Lord ^aftes-
btiry and improved by Professor H'utcheson : hut it
stiB continued to retain very able supporters.
In 1706, his patron. Bishop More, procured for
him the rectory. of St. Benet, Faul's Wharf, in
Lcmdon. The same year, he published his « Letter
to Mr. DodweU,' in answer to that author's Epis
tolary Discourse, proving from Scriptures and the
Ffrst Fathers, that * the Soul is a Principle naturally
mortal, but immortaUsed actually by the Pleasure of
God, to Punishment or to Reward, by it's Union with
the Divine Baptismal- Spirit : wherein is proved, that
none have the Power of giving this divine immor-
taUsing Spirit since the Apostles, but only the
Bishops.' The mischievous tendency of this doctrine, sup
ported by the name of it's author, made it necessary
that an answer should be fiimished to what from
another hand might, perhaps, have beeri received as
a banter upon both Natural and Revealed ReUgioiii;
Mr. Clarke was thought the most proper person for
this work- And he did it (says the Bishop of Win
chester) in so exceUent a manner, both with regard
to the phUosophical part, and to the opinions of some
of the primitive writers upon whom this doctrine was
fixed, that it gave universal satisfaction. But the
controversy did not stop here. For Mr. Antony Col
lins, coming in as a second to DodweU, went much
farther into the philosophy of the dispute, and indeed
appeared to produce aU that could plausibly be ad
vanced against the immateriaUty of the soul, as weB
as the Uberty of human actions. TWs opened a lasge
fidd of conflid, into which Mr. Clafke entered^ aad
wrote with such force and perspi^ity, as showed

DR. SAMUEL CLARKE. 351
him greatly superior to his adversaries both in ineta-
physical and in natural knowledge.
Four defences of DodweU speedUy foUowed his
first pubUcation, containing ' Remarks on a (pre
tended) Demonstration of the ImmateriaUty and
Natural ImmortaUty of the Soul,' in Clarke's reply.
In the midst of his other labours, however, he found
time to evince his regard for mathematical and phy
sical inquiries. His progress in these studies, and
his affection . for them, were not a Uttle improved
by the particular friendship of Newton; at whose
request, Hoadly informs us, he translated the ' Trea
tise on Optics' into Latin for the benefit of con
tinental scholars. And here it may be proper to
add that, after the death of Sir Isaac, Dr. Clarke
vindicated his doctrine concerning the ' proportion of
the velocity and force of bodies in motion ' against
several objectors, in a plain and masterly letter. Nor
must it be forgotten, that Newton, in return for his
VCTsion of the ' Optics,' presented him with the sum
of a hundred pounds for each of his five children.
He was now brought by his patron* to court, and
recommended to the favour of Queen Anne, who
appointed him one of her Chaplains in Ordinary;
and soon afterward, at the Bishop's request, presented
hiin in 1709 to the rectory of St. James', West
minster. From this period, he discontinued his
former mode of preaching without notes, and com
posed his sermons with great exactness.
He now resided constantly in the rectory-house.

* The familiarity and intimacy of their intercourse, equally
honourable to both parties, went so far that the Bishop, at
his death, entrusted all his domestic concems to Dr. Clarke's
hands.

SS2 DR. SAMUEL CLARKE.
and beside the regular performance of his other
duties, adopted the custom of his predecessoTs,",in
reading lectures upon the Church-Catechism every
Thursday morning, for some months in each year.
Upon taking his degree of D.D. at Cambridge,
on this occasion, he distinguished himself greatly by
his public exercise. The questions, on which he dis
puted, were: 1. Nullum Fidei Christiance Dogma,
in S. Scripturis ttaditum, est rectee Rationi disseu-
taneiim ; and 2. Sine Actionum humanarum Liber
tate nulla potest esse Religio.* His Thesis was an
elaborate discourse upon the first of these subjects.
Dr. James, at that time Regius Professor of Divinity,
a leamed and acute disputant, exerted himself more
than usual during the contest; and, after baring
strictly sifted every part ofthe composition, pressed
him with the utmost force of syUogism in all it's
various forms. To the former Clarke made an ex
tempore answer, in a continued Latin discourse for
nearly half an hour ; in which he confuted what the
Professor had advanced, with such strength and
fluency, as to compel many of his auditors to confess
that, ' if they had not been within sight of hhn,
they should have supposed he had read his reply out
of a long meditated and weU-digested paper.'
After' this, in the course of the disputation,' he
guarded so weU against his adversary's subtUties, en-
countea"ed so readily his objections, and pressed him
so closely with his rejoinders, that perhaps never was
any conflid kept up with equal spirit, or terminated
with equal honour to the respondent. The Professor,
a man of humour as weU as of leaming, at the end of
* " No Article of Christian Faith, delivered in the Holy
Scriptures, is contrary to right Reason." — « Without the Free
dom of Human Actions there can be no Religion."

DR. SAMUEL CLARKE. 3S3
the disputation dompUmented him with " Probh me
exercuisti:" and the leamed hearers departed fiULof
admfration, that after an absence of so many years,
and a long course of other occupations, he had con
ducted himself, with regard both to force of argu
ment and purity of expression, as if this species of
academical exercise had been his constant employ
ment. Mr. Whiston informs us, in the words of an
unknown admfrer of Dr. Clarke, who was present
at this celebrated Act, that " every creature was
rapt up into sUence and astonishment, and thought
the performance truly admfrable."*
In 1710, he" published, in foUo, a beautiful edition
of Caesar's Commentaries, dedicated to the Duke of
Marlborough, f In the printing of it, he took parti
cular care of the punctuation, or proper distribution
of each sentence into it's constituent members ; an
exactness too much neglected by leamed men, though
absolutely necessary for preserving the perspicuity,
and even the beauty of language. In the Annota
tions, he selected what appeared the most judi
cious from other editors, interspersing occasionaUy
corrections and emendations of his own.' X
* The same year, he revised and corrected Whiston's trans
lation of the ' Apostolical Constitutions,' at the writer's par
ticular request.
+ In this compliment, from the military character of the
work, though the illustrious Dedicatee could not read a syllable
of it, there was some propriety. But where was the suitableness
in inscribing with the same great name a book, whose lyre perti
naciously refused to hymn the ' Atridae,' and 'l;he labours of
Hercules?' Yet Barnes dedicated to Marlborough his ' Ana
creon.' X This publication Mr, Addison panegyrises in the following
terms: " The new edition, which is given us of Caesar's Comment-
VOL. V. 2 A

354 DR. SAMUEL CLARKE.
Soon afterward, he was involved in a warm con
troversy, occasioned by the pubUcation of his ' Scrip
ture-Doctrine of the Trinity,' in 1712, against which
complaint was made by the Lower House of Con
vocation in 1714 ; but the affair terminated, on
the members of the Upper House declaring them
selves satisfied with the explanations offered by the
author.* ThLs work is divided into three parts : 1. A Col
lection and ExpUcation of aU the Texts in the New
Testament, relating to the Doctrine of the Trinity;
2. An Explanation of the foregoing Doctrine in par
ticular and distinct propositions ; and 3. A considera
tion of the principal Passages in the Liturgy of the
Church of England relating to it.
- " He knew (remarks Bishop Hoadly) and aU men
agreed, that it was a matter of mere revelation : he
aries, has already been taken notice of in foreign gazettes, and
is a work that does honour to the English press. It is no wonder
that an edition should be very correct, which has passed through
the bands of one of the most accurate, learned^ and judicious
writers this age has produced. The beauty of the paper, of the
character, and of the several cuts with which this noble work is
illustrated, makes it tbe finest book that I have ever seen ; and
is .a true instance of the English genius, which though it does
not come the first into any art, generally carries it to greater
heights than any other country in the world." (Spectator, No. .
367.) .
¦ * The, most authentic account of this business we have in a
piece' entitled, ' An Apology for Dr. Clarke; containing an
Account of the late Proceedings in Convocation upon his Writ-
ings concerning the Trinity. London, 1714, 8vo.' With this*
sacrifice to human prudence, which some have (perhaps, top
strongly) represented as a retractation, Whiston's unaccom
modating zeal was highly offended ; and Dr. Clarke himself,
there is reason to believe;,, was not perfectly satisfied with his
own conduct upon the occasion.

DR. SAMUEL CLARKE, S55
did, notj therefore, retire into.his closjst, and set himself
to invent, and form a plausible hypothesis, which
might, sit easUy upon his mind; he had not recourse
to abstract and metaphysical reasonings, to, cover or
patronise any system, he might have embraced before,
but as a. Christian he, laid open the New- Testament
before him- He searched out every text, in which
mention was made, of the three Persons; or of any
one of them. He accurately examined the meaning
pf the words used about every one of them ; and by
the best rules of grammar and critique, and by his skUl
in language, he endeavoured, to fix plainly what was
declared about every person, and what was not.
" I am far from taking upon me (he adds) to de
termine, in so difficult a question, between Dr. Clarke
and those ¦vyho made repUes to him. The debate
soon grew very warm, and in a Uttle time seemed to
rest principally upon him and one particular ad
versary,* very skilful in the management of a debate,
and very learned and well versed in the writings of
the ancient Fathers.'
" This I hope I may be allowed to say, that every
Christian divine and layman ought to pay his thanks
to Dr. Clarke for the method, into yrhich he brought
this dispute ; and for that coUection of the texts of
the New Testament, by which at last it must be
decided, on which side soever the truth may be sup
posed to Ue.
" And let me add this one word more,, that since
men of such thought and such learning have shown
the world, in their own example, how widely the most
honest inqufrers after truth may differ upon such
subjects, this methinks should a Uttle abate our
.* Dr. W;aterland, Master of Magdalen College, Cambridge.

SS6 l^R. SAMUEL CLARKE.
niutual eerisures, and a little take off froni our po^-
titeriess about the necessity of explaining, in this ot
that One determinate sense, the ancient passage!
Mating to points of so subUme a nature."
Some time before the appearance ofthe vdume,
he tvas infortried by Lord Godolphin and other mem
bers of the ministry, that the affafrs of the pttMc
tvere with diflicfilty retained in the hands of those
tvho Were friendly tb Uberty ; and that, therefore, it
ivas a:n urisea,s0nable tiine for such a pubHcattion. To
this message he paid no rega;fd, but proceeded aC-
cbfdihg' to the dictaftes of his consdence.*
In 1715 and 1716, he entered into a dispute with
the celebrated Ldbhitz relating to the prmciples
Of Natural PhUOsophy a,nd ReUgion; and a Cfft-
Ie(5tion bf the papers, which passed between thetii,
Ivas jJUBUshed in 171 7- To this are added, • Let
ters to Dr. Clarke concerning Liberty and Necessity,
froin a Gentleman (Richard BuUceley, Esq.)f of the
Univeil-sity of Caihbridge, with the Doctor's Answers
to them ; also Remarks upon a Book, entitled, A
PhUosophical Inquiry concerning Human Liberty (by
Antony ColUns, Esq.)' The volume was inscribed
to Qiieen CdroUne, theh Princess of Wales, f who
* A great number of books and pattrplilets presently came
out upon the subject, of which the names may be found in a
pamphlet entitled, « An Account of all the considerable Books
and Pamphlets that have been written on either Side in the
ContBoveriy concerning the Trinity since the Year 1712; in
wbich'is, also, contained an Account of the Pamphlets Teritten
this last Year on either Side by the Dissenters to the end of the
Year 1719.' London, 1720, Svo.
t Author of a Poem, entitled « The Last Day.' He died io
1718, aged twenty four.
* Dr. Clarke was a great favourite with her Royal Highness,
and !ihe tjlaeins' of his hunt in ho., i^.,.^...:^^^^- .^  .v.. fn >

DR. SAMUEL CLARICE' 357
was pleased to * have the whole controversy pasS;
through her hands, and was the Mi^itness and judge
of every step of it.' Dr Clarke, indeed^ frequently
declare^, that ' she displayed great sagacity a.n<i
judgement in several parts, of the debate.'
In the course of it, as Whjston observes, " Leih-
nitz w^s pressed so hard by his opponent, from matter
of fact, known laws of motion, and the discoveries
of Sfr Isaac Newton, who heartily assisted the Doc
tor, that he was forced to have recourse to metaphy
sical subtUties, and to a pre-estabUshed harmony of
things in his own imagination (which he stiles, a
* superior reason') tUl it was soon seen that his * supe
rior reason ' served to little else, but to confirm the
great s^periority of experience and mathematics
above aU such metaphysical subtUties whatsoever.
And I confess," he adds, " I look upon these letters
of Dr. Clarke, as among the most useful of his per
formances in Natural PhUosophy."*
In 1718, a dispute arose concerning the Primitive
Doxologies, in consequence of an alteration made
by Dr. Clarke in those of certain ' Select Hymns
and Psalms, reprinted that Year for the Use of St.
J^ines' Parish.' The new readings were :

And,

To God, through Christ, his only Son,
Immortal Glory be, &c.
To God, through Christ, his Son, our Lord,
All Glory be therefore, &c.

A considerable number of these Uttle books having
sarcasm of Pope's, as if ' the situation wer(e not quite suitable to
a court-divine.' * Newton oncp pleasantly told Clarke, that ' bjS had broken
Leibnjtz' h^art >vitb lus reply to him.'
3

358 DR. SAMUEL CLARKE.
been dispersed by the Socidy for'promoting Christiari
Knowledge, before the alterations were noticed. Dr.
Clarke was charged with a design of imposing ' upon
the Society ; whereas, in truth, the edition had been
prepared by him exclusively for the use of his - owii
parish. The Bishop of London, however, ' thoiig^^it
proper to publish ' A Letter to the Incumbents of all
Churches and Chapels in his Diocese, concerning
their not using any new Forms of Doxology.'* This
letter was animadverted upon, in the foUowing year
by Mr. Whiston, in an fronical ' Letter of Thanks to
his Lordship;' and in a pamphlet, entitled, 'An
humble Apology for St. Paul, and the other Apostles;
or, a Vindication of them and their Doxologies from
the Charge of Heresy,' by Cornelius Pacts, f
Aboiit this time he was presented by Mr. Lechmere,
ChanceUor of the Duchy of Lancaster, to the Master
ship of Wigstan Hospital in Leicester; a preferment,
not requfring subscription.
In 1724, he pubUshed Seventeen Sermons on
* The Right Reverend author particularly speaks of " some
persons, seduced by the strong delusions of pride and self-con
ceit," &c. &c.
f Soon afterward came out a second piece of irony, entitled
« A Defence of the Bishop of London, in Answer to Mr.
Whiston's Letter of Thanks ; addressed to the Archbishop of
Canterbury. To which is added, A Vindication of Dr. Sache-
vererell's late Endeavour to turn Mr. Whiston out. of his Church.'
The same Letter of Thanks occasioned, likewise, the two fol
lowing pieces ; « The Lord Bishop of London's Letter to his
Clergy vindicated, &c. By a Believer;' and, ' A Seasonable
Review of Mr. Whiston's Account of Primitive Doxologies, &c.
By a Presbyter' of the Diocese of London' (supposed to be
Dr. William Berriman.) To the latter Mr. Whiston replied in
a ' Second Letter to the Bishop of London, &c.' dated March"
11, 1719; and was answered by ' A Second Review, &c.'

..DR. SAMUEL CLARKE. 359
several occasions, eleven of which had never before
been printed: and in 1727, upon the death of Sir
Isaac Newton, he decUned the offer of the Mastership
of the Mint.* To this refusal he was particularly
pressed hoth by Mr. Emlyn and Mr. Whiston, as
' being what he did not want, entirely remote from
the concerns of his profession, and Ukely materiaUy
to obstruct the success of his ministry;' to which the
latter added, as his principal reason, that ' such con
duct wdhld show him to be in earnest in reUgion.'
And it is recorded to the honour of Mrs, Clarke,
that without urging the advantages which this ap
pointment would have produced to her famUy, she
left her husband at fuU Uberty to act as his conscience
and incUnation should dfrect him. f
In 1728 appeared, ' A Letter from Dr. Clarke to
Mr Benjamin Hoadly, concerning the Proportion of
Velocity and Force in Bodies in Motion. :j;
In the beginning of 1729, he published in quarto,
the twelve first books of Homer's lUad, dedicated
to the Duke of Cumberland. Homer, we are in
formed by the Bishop of Winchester, was " Dr.
Clarke's admfred author, even to a degree of some
thing Uke enthusiasm hardly natural to his temper ;
and that in this he went a Uttle beyond the bounds
of Horace's judgement, and was so unwUUng tp
* This was made, in order to secure to his merit that pecu
niary reward, which his scruples about subscription and his
theological deviations had rendered no longer practicable through
the channel of professional advancement.
¦j- Mr. Whiston, in his particular mention of this affair, states
that Mr. Conduit, who succeeded to the office, purchased with
lOOOZ. a place among the King's Writers for one of Dr. Clairke's

> sons.

J It is printed in the Philosophical Transactions.

360 DR. SAMUEL CLARKE.
aUow his favourite ever to ' nod,' that he has taken
remarkable pains to find out and give a reason for
every passage, word, and tittle, that could create
any suspicion. The translation," adds his Lord
ship, " with his corrections, may now be stfled accu
rate; .and his notes, as far as they go, are indeed a
tireasury of grammatical and critical knowledge."*
On the eleventh of May in this year he was taken
suddenly UI, and died on the seventeenth. He had
gone out in the morning of the eleventh, to preaiiE^
before the Judges at Serjeant's Inn ; but being sub-
tienly sdzed with a violent pain in his side, which
incapacitated him for the pulpit, he was obliged to
be carried home. In the afternoon, however, he
thought himself so much better, that he would not
suffer himself to be blooded ; against which process he
entertained stroi^ prejudices. The pain, however,' re
turning about t\^o the next morning, an able phy-
sidan was called in ; who after twice bleeding him,
anfd other appUcations, thought him out of danger,
tUl the Saturday morning foUowing: when to the
sui-prise and grief of aU about him, the pain removed
from his side to his head, and after a ^ort complaint
took awa;y his senses. Between seven and aght in
the evening of that day he expfred, aged only fifty
four. He married Katharine, the only daughter of the
* The twelve last books of the Iliad were published in
1732, by bis son, Mr. Samuel Clarke; who states, in the
preface, that ' his father had finished the annotations to the
first three of those books, and as far as tlie 359th verse of the
fourth ; and had revised the text and version as far as verse 510
of the same book.' Upon this performance his fame, as a schola^
principally rests.

DR. SAMUEL CLARKE. 361
Rev. Mr. Lockwood, Rector of Little Massingham iij
Norfolk, by whom he had seven children : of those
two died before, and one a few weeks after him.*
Since his death have been pubUshed, from his ori
ginal manuscripts, by his brother (Dr. John Clarke,
Dean of Sarum) f ' An Exposition on the Ch^irch
Catechism;' and ten volumes of Sermons. The Ex
position contains the ledures which he read on the
Thursday mornings, at St. James' church, revised
during the latter part of his life with great care, and
left completely prepared for the press.
This performance was animadverted upon by Dr.
Waterland, his old antagonist, who was answered by
Dr. A, A. Sykes; and a series of repUes and re
joinders kept the controversy afloat for a considerable
time. " Dr. Clarke (says Bishop Hoadly) was a persoii
of a natural genius, exceUent enough to have placed
him in the superior rank of men without the acquire
ments of learning ; and of learning enough, to have
rendered a much less comprehensive genius very con
siderable in the ways of the world : but in him they
were both united to such a degree, that those who
were of his intimate acquaintance knew not which
to admire most. The first strokes of knowledge, i^
some of it's branches, seemed to be Uttle less than
natural to him : for they appeared to be right in his
mind, as soon as any thing could appear ; and to be
* Queen Caroline allowed his widow a pension of one hundred
guineas per ann.
t This gentleman, -Chalmers says in a note, was at first ap
prentice to a weaver in Norwich; but was sent to the University
by his brother, and through his interest obtained a stall in bis
native city, and the deanery abovementioned.

.•562 DR. SAMUEL. CLARKE.
the very same, whichafterward grew .up with him
to perfection, as the strength and cultivation of his
mind increased. He had one happiness very rarely
known among the greatest men, that his memory was
almost equal to his judgement, which is as great a
character as can weU be given of it." After stating
his proficiency in every branch of science and learn
ing, he adds ; " If in any one of these many branches
he had exceUed only as much as he did in aU, this
alone would justly have entitled him to the name of
a ' great man.' But there is something so very ex
traordinary, that the same person should excel, not
only in those parts of knowledge which reqiUre the
strongest judgement, but in- those which want the
help of the strongest memory also ; and it is so seldom
seen that one, who is an eminent master in theology,is
at the same time skilfuUy fond of aU critical and clas
sical learning, or exceUent in the physical and mathe
matical studies, or weU famed for metaphysical and
abstract reasoning; that it ought to be remarked in
how particular a manner, and to how high a degree,
divinity and mathematics, experimental phUosophy
and classical leaming, metaphysics and critical skill,
aU of them various and different as they are among
themselves, united in Dr. Clarke."* He proceeds
-to record, how earnestly his friendship was courted
* His character, however, is so much involved in contro
versy, that it is quite impossible to exhibit more than it's great
outlines in these pages. A more minute view of it may be col
lected from the Biographia Britannica, which contains a pro
fessed defence of his principles and conduct, the Lives of hirn
by Whiston and Hoadly, Whitaker's ' Origin of Arianism,'
Warburton's • Letters,' Nichols' ' Bowyer,' and the pamphlets
occasionally adverted to above. See also Tytler's ' Memoirs of
Lord Kames,' I. 26.

DR. SAMUEL CLARKE. 8S3
and cultivated by the greatest lovers of virtue and
knowledge ; and feeUngly observes in conclusion,
" As his works must last as long as any language
remains to convey them to future times, perhaps I
may flatter myself that this faint and imperfect ac
count of him may be transmitted down with them.
And I hope it wUl be thought a pardonable piece of
ambition and sdf-interestedness, if being fearful lest
every thing else should prove: too weak to keep 'the
reiriembrance of myself in being, I lay- hold on his
fame to prop and support my own. I am sure, as I
have little reason to expect that any thing of mine,
without such an assistance can Uve^ I shaU think my
self greatly recompensed for the want- of any other
memorial, if my name may go down to pbsterity thus
closely joined with his ; and I myself be thought of,
and spoken of, in ages to come under the character
of ' The Friend of Dr. Clarke.' " ,
In domestic and private Ufe^ he was most tender
and humane. When his young- chUdren amused
themselves with tormenting flies, &c., he calmly
reasoned with them in such a famiUar manner, as
was calculated to make a very powerful impression
upon their minds. In answering appUcations made
to him with respect to scruples, of which, instances
frequently occurred, he was always extremely prompt
and condescending. It was one of his inviolable
maxims, ' Never to lose a single minute of time.'
He always carried a book with him, which he would
read in his carriage, whUe walking in his fields, or at
any vacant moment. Nay, he would occasionally
open it even in company, whenever he felt that he
could do so without offence to good manners. And
yet, with all this value for time, we are told that

36* DR. SAMUEL CLARKE.
(as a supposed rela?:ation, perhaps, or from the ia,
fatuation of habit) he would spend whole hours in
playing at cards!
" Upright, mUd, unaffected (says one of his bio
graphers) and cheerful, even sometimes to playful
simpUcity, he seemed formed to have gone througlj
the world without an enemy, had he not touched
upon the * debateable land' of polemics. His intel
lectual character was that of pure reason, undisturbed
by passion or enthusiasm, and closely pursuing it's
objed with aU the powers of methodical accuracy
and logical acuteness. His memory, was remgrkjibly
strong,* and his attention indefatigable. If not one
pf the brightest geniuses, he is certainly one of the
ablest men this island can boast."
As a writer of sermons, he is chiefly characterise^
by soUdity of reasoning and justness of obseryatp,
expressed in perspicuous and manly language ; and
therefore, with most of the enunent EngUsh dirines,
he takes his stand among the instructive and didactic
preachers, rather than the orators.
* He told Mr. Pyle, of Lynn, tbat ' he never forgot any
tiling, which he had once thoroughly apprehended and under
stood.*

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.*

[1662^1742.]

X HIS most distinguished critic and divine was bom
January 27, 1661-2, at Oulton in the parish of
Rothwell, in the West Riding of the county of York.
His ancestors were formerly of some cpnsidemtion,
and had been possessed of a valuable estate at Hep-
tonstaU, a chapefry and manor (the latter now form
ing part of the very large Rufford property) in the
parish of Halifax. His grandfather, James Bentley,
had a command in the royal army during the eivU
wars ; and being involved in the fate of his party,
beside enduring the piUage of his house and the con
fiscation of his lands, was himself imprisoned in
Pontefract Castle, in which place he died. His son
Thomas, the father of Dr. Bentley, was a respect
able blacksmith f at Oulton, where he married the
• AvTHORiTiES,Bi(^aphia Britannica; ClassicalJournal,X.;
Stillingiieet's, Bp. Newton's, Cumberland's, and Whiston's
Lives ; Nichols' Edition of Dr, King's Works, and Literary
Anecdotes, &c. &c.
>f Thewrker of his Life ;in the old Biographia Britannica
«ays, 'he was the son of a mean tradesman.' This Mr. Cumber
land, bis grandson, in a letter to the Bishop of Oxford, stiles
'* a misrepresentation, debasing his condition from that of a
gentleman."

366 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
daughter of Richard WUUs of the same hamlet, who
had formerly been a Major in the service of Charles I.
This lady, a woman of a very strong understanding,
taught her son Richard the atccidence; and by her
father he was placed at the grammar-school at Wake- >
field, where his extraordinary talents quickly raised him
above the level of his fellows. In 1676, he was ad
mitted a sizar* of St. John's CoUege, Cambridge, at
the very early age of fourteen years and four months.
Having taken the degree of B. A. at the regdar
period, he in 1682 offered himself as a candidate for
a fellowship^ but was rejected in consequence of his
county bdng full ! f Soon afterward, he became- an
assistant at the free grammar-school at Spalding' in
Lincolnshire. That he did not, however, continue
long in that situation, appears from his having ac
cepted, in 1683, the appointment of private: tutor
to the Son of Dr. StiUingfleet, Dean of St. Paul's,
who in compUment to his sagacity gave him the option
of taking his pupU to Cambridge or to Oxford. He
preferred the latter, principally on account of the;
Bodleian library, the manuscripts of which he ex
amined with the most minute attention ; thus deeply
laying the foundation of that fabric of classical' cha
racter, which he was destined to carry so high.
Being now of age, he sold to his elder brother a small
property which he had derived from his famUy, and
* For his own tutor, Mr. Johnston : a circumstance, which
Dr. Powell (though the mode of admission jls merely formal)
records as somewhat remark&ble ; he himself, during a long
Course of tuition, never having put down his own name upori
such an occasion, liut always that of . some other fellow.
f Or, as Chalmers , less probably states, 'on account , of ;his
being too young for priest's orders.'

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 367
immediately expended the whole of it's produce in
the purchase' of books. Such even at this time was
his turn for criticaf learning, that before he attained
the age of twenty four, he had compUed and written
.with his own hand in quarto a voliimeof Hexapla; in
the first column of which was every word df the
Hebrew Bible alphabeticaUy disposed, and in five
other coluriins aU the corresponding interpretations of
those words in the Chaldee, Syriac, Latin (Vulgate),'*
Septuagint, and Aquila, Symmachiis, and Theodo-
tion. Thus, with the exception of the Arabic, Persic,'
Ethiopic, and Samaritan, he must at that time
have made himself master Of the whole Poly-
glott ! He had, also, at the same date filled another
quarto with the various readings and emendations'
of the Hebrew text, deduced from those ancient
versions !
In 1684, he took the degree of M. A.
In 1689, he was admitted ad eundem in the Uni
versity of Oxford, and is mentioned by Antony Wood
as ' a promising genius, to whom the world Was likely
to be greatly obUged for his literary productions.'
In 1691, he pubUshed his first work in a Latin
Epistle to Dr. Mill, containing some critical obser
vations upon the chronology of Johannes Malala.
In the foUowing year, he was coUated by -Dr. StU
Ungfleet, to whom as Bishop of Worcester he had
been appointed Domestic Chaplain,* to a prebend
* In this capacity, he so distinguished himself at bis Lord
ship's table upon a learned subject casually started by one of the
noble guests, that on his leaving the room the Peer observed
to Dr. S., "You have a very great man for your Chaplain," my
Lord.'l " Yes,'* replied the Prelate, " the greatest in Europe,"
had it pleased God to have given hira the grace of humility;"
1

368 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
in his cathedral. Soon afterward, he was recom
mended by his patron conjunctively with Jh. Uoyd
Bishop of Lichfield, as a fit person to open the Lec
ture upon Mr. Boyle's foundation, in defence of Natu
ral and Revealed ReUgion. The specific subjed; (rf
his Discourses, eight in number, was the confutation
of Atheism ; and this he effected in so masterly a
manner from a view of the faculties of the soul, of
the structure and origin of human bodies, and the
beginning and frame of the world itself, that his
volume beside passing through numerous editions at
home has been translated into several of the lan.
guages of the Continent.*

His pride, indeed, is said to have been the reason, why he did
not go beyond the first year in preaching tbe Boyle Lectures.
* Whiston regards these Discourses, which demonstrated tlie
Being and Providence of a God from Sir Isaac Newton's won
derful discoveries, as " perhaps the most valuable of all that
great critic's performances:" but Bentley himself, as the
same writer informs us, was afraid that be had by their very
unanswerableness " done harm to Christianity ; as occasioning
those sceptics or infidels to divert from their denial of a Qod
and a Providence, from which they might be always driven with
great ease, to the picking up of objections against the Bible in
general, which would certainly aftbrd them a much larger field
for contradictions."
Very soon after their delivery, upon consulting Bishop
Lloyd on the subject of the Scripture-Prophecies, he was sp
much annoyed to find that his, Lordship understood a day to
mean a year (which, however, the ancient language of pro-
phecy plainly implies) tbat he bluntly asked Newton, to whom
Whiston had introduced him, « Whether he could demomtrati
the correctness of the Canon?' The invidiousness of the allu
sion so offended the Philosopher, tbat he refused to see the
captious questioner for a twelvemonth. Bentley even persuaded
Baubuz, in the way of banter indeed, tbat «^he ought to prove
his principle of interpretation ^ priori ; ' and for the sjigseity

DR. RICHARD BENTLEV. 863
In 1693, upon the death of Mr, Justel, he was
made Keeper of the Library at St. James'. Soon after
his nomination, and before the signing of his patent, by
hU diUgence he procured for it no fewer than a thou
sand volumes, under the Act of ParUament which pre
scribes that " one copy of every book entered at Sta
tioner's HaU shaU be transmitted to the royal col
lection,' In 1694, arose the celebrated dispilte between him
and the Hon. Charles Boyle,* with respect to the
displayed in his preface to the * Exposition of the Apocalypse,'"
held him subsequently in high esteem.
For a question upon the proportions of Nebuchadnezzar'^.
Image of Gold in Dan. vi., which nearly lost him his mistress,
" a most excellent Christian woman, " and fpr some other petty
exceptions to the chroiiology of that prophet, of whom (though:
expressly quoted by our Blessed Saviour himself, Matt. xxiv..9,
Mark. xiii. 14, Luke xxi. 20) " he was very desirous to get clear,"
as well as for his hostility to the Apocalypse, Mr. Whiston im
peaches Dr. Bentley of Scepticism — " Scepticism, he says, not
Infidelity : for I take the evidence fpr the truth of the Bible to
be so prodigiously strong in all original authors, that no persons
so learned as Dr. Bentley and Dr. Hare can, I bfelieve, by any
temptation proceed farther than scepticism ; how much farther
soever comparatively ignorant and unlearned writers — ^I mean,
such as Collins, Tindal, Toland, Morgan, and Chubb — may
have proceeded, in their grosser degrees of infidelity."
* This young nobleman, born in 1676, was entered at the
age of fifteen of Christ Church, Oxford. In 1703, by the
death of his elder brother, he became Earl of Orrery : in
1710^11, at the negotiating of the peace of Utrecht, was ap-
pwnted Envoy Extraordinary to the States of Flanders and
Brabant, and in September, 1711, created Baron Boyle of'
Marston, in Somersetshire. He continued to reside at Brussels,
as Envoy, till June 1713; and in the commencement of the new
reign was made a Lord of the Bedchamber, and Lord Lieutenant
of the county of Somerset. The former post, however, he re
signed in 1716, having previously been deprived of his regiment;^
VOL. V. 3 B

370 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
Epistles ascribed to Phalaris, Tyrant of Agrigentum.
Of those Epistles Mr. Boyle had recently pubUshed
an ecUtion, with a Latin Version and Notes ; and, in
and in 1722, on suspicion of being concerned, in Layer's plot,
he was committed to the Tower, where he suffered severely in
his health. He died August 28, 1731, at tbe age of fifty five.
During his residence at Oxford, having already printed a trans
lation of the ' Life of Lysander' from Plutarch, he was em-i
ployed by Dean Aldrich, who bad engaged several of the
young students under bis care to publish editions of the Classics,
to give to the world the ' Epistles of Phalaris.' With a view to
this, wishing to collate a MS^ of this work in the King's library,
he desired one Bennet, a London bookseller, to request the
loan of it from Bentley. The MS., say the friends of
Boyle, ' was not granted till after earnest solicitation and great
delays:' and as, in the confidence of it's not being speedily re
claimed, it was not instantly put into the collator's hands, little
advantage was derived from it ; the librarian having within six
days re-demanded it " in a very rude manner, and with very
slighting and disparaging expressions both of Mr. Boyle and his'
work." Such is the story told by Mr. Bennet, Dr. William
King, Mr. Boyle, cSrc. Dr. Bentley, on the other hand asserts,
that ' the MS. was delivered to Mr. Boyle's agent within a
month after it had fallen under his care as Library Keeper; that
it was voluntarily offered, with a notice, that it must speedily be
returned ; that he never heard the collation was uncompleted,
and indeed could scarcely have believed such a statement, as
it might at any time have been made from beginning to end in
four hours.' This, Boyle resented by the following sarcastic
passage in his preface ; Collatas etiam (Epistolas) curavi usque ad
Epist. XL, cum Manuscripto in Bibliothecd Regid, cujus mihi
copiam ulteriorem Bibliothecarius pro singulari humanitate md:
negavit: and refusing, upon Dr. Bentley's civil expostulation
and explanation (for ' to have insisted on the cancel,' he said,'
« might have been forcing a gentleman to too low a submission')
to erase the obnoxious sentence, drew down upon himself the
tremendous hostility of his justly-incensed foe. The matter
indeed, as that foe indignantly observes, being confounded with
many flat contradictions, may properly be reduced to this short
question, " Utri creditis, Quiritbs—Dr. Bentley, or Mr. Bennet'"

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 371
the Preface, had resentfiiUy commented upon what he
thought ungenerous treatment and unjustifiable ex
pressions on the part of Dr. Bentley. The latter in

— the scholar, or the bookseller ? Yet Bennet had the honour oif
a funeral sermon from Atterbury.
Even of Boyle's ' Examination' it has been questioned,
whether any considerable part proceeded from his own pen :
tnany critics, both then and since, having concurred in ascribing
it to Dean Aldrich, Dr. Atterbury in particular (who owns, in
a letter, that he ' wrote about half and planned the whole' ) Dr.
John Friend, Dr. Smalridge, and other wits of Christ Church,
who heartily hated and wished to humble the redoubtable Bentley.
Alsop, likewise, as appears from the preface to bis Fabmarum
/Esopicarum Delectus, took part in the controversy, calling his
adversary Ricardum quendam Bentldum, virum in vohendis
Lexids satis diligentem. Pope told Warburton, that • Boyle
wrote only the narrative of what passed between him and the
bookseller, which itself too underwent some correction ; that
Robert Friend, the master of Westminster, and Atterbury wrote
the body ofthe criticisms; and that Dr. King, ofthe Commons,
wrote the dull argument to prove Dr. Bentley not the author of
the ' Dissertation on Phalaris,' and the Index, and a powerful
cabal gave it a surprising run.' {Warburton's Letters.) The
rnarriage of Bentley's son to a niece of Dr. Friend's softened
the Cambridge Critic toward his Christ Church opponents; and
he declared, that ' F. had more good learning in him than he had
ever imagined.'
Dr. William King, who was accidentally present at a conver
sation between Bentley and Bennet, on being applied to by
Bpyle for the particulars, gave a short and expressive statement
of them in a Letter, which procured for him an acrimonious
castigatipn of eight pages ; and the happy application of Horace's
pun, in the Proscripti Regis Rupili pus atque venenum. In this
severity, howeyer. Dr. King was so far from acquiescing, that
he sooDi afterward published his eleven ' Dialogues of the Dead;'
preseMtipg as many different views of the subject, and replete
with that peculiar" ^nd admirable species of banter, which must
have abundantly mortified his great adversary's vanity.
2 B 3

S72 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
consequence, in a * Dissertation upon the Epistles of
Themistocles, Socrates, Euripides, Phalaris, and the
Fables of iEsop,' appended to the second edition
of Wotton's ^ Reflexions on Ancient and Modem
Learning,' in 1697,* assigned strong reasons for
disuputing the genuineness of the Letters in question.
To these remarks the partisans of Boyle, some
times denominated ' the Bees of Christ Church,' and
by Rymer (in his 'Essay conceming curious and
critical learning') caUed ' a Select Club,' pubUshed
an elaborate, witty, and scurrilous reply. Several of
the wits and critics of the age, including Swift, Pope,
* Wotton, an English divine of uncommon learning, was
born in 1666. His almost incredible talent for acquiring lan
guages has been recorded by his father in a pamphlet, stating
his proficiency in the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew tongues at six
years of age ! Under ten, he was admitted of Catharine Hall ;
caiA, at Eight and twenty, he published bis ' Reflexions upon
Ancient and Modern Learning.' In this surprising performance,
in which he encounters Sir William Temple's theory (that ' the
ancients possessed a greater force of genius than the moderns, and
that all our knovvledge is nothing more than scattered fragments
saved out of the general shipwreck') even Mr. Boyle allows
that " he is modest and decent, and speaks generally with
respect of those he differs from, and with a due distrust of his
own opinions. His book has a vein of learning running through
it, where there is no ostentation of it." But Temple had incau
tiously asserted, that ' the two oldest books he knew of in prose
were ^sop's Fables and Phalaris' Epistles ; and that the latter,
by Bentley ascribed to « some dreaming pedant with his elbow
On his desk,' exhibited the statesman, the soldier, the wit, and
the scholar.' Hinc Ulce lacrymce. In 1707, Wotton took his
Doctor's degree. From difficulties in his private fortune, he
retired into Wales in 1701 ; and acquired such skill in that lan
guage, as enabled him to undertake the publication ofthe
* Laws of Hoel Dha,' which however he did not live to finish.
He died in 1726',

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. S7S
Garth,* and Middleton, impeUed by various causes
chiefly of a vindictive nature, united themselves to
* Garth's ill-natured couplet, in tbe ' Dispensary,' is
' So diamonds take a lustre from their foil.
And to a Bentley 'tis, we owe a Boyle.'
In a similar spirit, the punsters even of his own University eari- '
catured Bentley in tbe hands of Phalaris' attendants, exclaiming
as they were thrusting him into the Bull, " I had rather be
roasted than boiled (Boyled.) "
Pope was irritated by Bentley's telling him, on being pressed
at Dr. Atterbury's for his opinion about the translation of
Homer, then newly come out, that ' the verses were good
verses, but the work was not Homer — it was Spondanus '
(where some have proposed to read, Mme. Dacier). Hence
* the slashing Bentley ' of the Dunciad,
The mighty Scholiast, whose unwearied pains
Made Horace dull, and humbled Milton's strains!
Bentley's comment was — " I spoke against his Homer, and the
portentous cub never forgives ! " Alas ! for the refinements of
learning, and the perfection of humanity ! Tanteene animis
ccelestibus iree.
Swift however, in his ' Battle of the Books,' though he ludi
crously represents Wotton and Bentley standing side by side
and transfixed together by one stroke of Boyle's javelin, as a
" skilful cook with iron skewer pierces the tender sides of %
brace of woodcocks, their legs and wings close pinioned to the
ribs," countenances the idea of Boyle's obligations to his Ox
ford contemporaries, where he represents him as " clad in a
suit of armour, which had been given him by all the gods."
" Many, indeed (says Frankliu, the translator of Phalaris'
Epistles) who gave into this foolish opinion did at the same time
allow, in justice to the late Lord Orrery, that if the weapons
were put into his hands, hp had at least the skill to manage them
to the best advantage. To recompense any uneasiness, which
might arise from reports of this kind, Mr. Boyle had the secret
satisfaction of seeing his enemies, while they endeavoured to
lessen his reputation, pay him tbe highest compliment by attri
buting his work to the literati of Christ Church ; who, if they
4

874 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
Bentley's confederated foes ; and every abuse, which
ingenuity or maUgnity could suggest, was poured
profusely upon the moral and Uterary character of the
Cambridge critic. They even intrigued with their
friends to procure ' a fling at Bentley ;' nor did Keill
himself, the youthful Professor of Astronomy, pub
Ush his grave work upon ' The Theory of the Earth,'
without a sneer at the Doctor's boasted sagadty in
conjectural criticism. Their triumphs, however, were
to be transitory. Bentley undertook to examine th6
Epistles with stUl greater precisioij; and in a volume,
Uttle (if at aU) inferior to that of his hydra-anta,-
gonist even in the humbler respects of sarcasm and
sprightUness, gave to the world his unrivaUed ' Dis'
sertation on the Epistles of Phalaris.'
The facetious Examiner, he observes, seems re
solved to vie with Phalaris himself in the science of
Phalarism ;* for his revenge is not satisfied with one
single death of his adversary, but he wiU kiU nie
over and over again. He has slain me twice, by twQ
several deaths; one in the first page of his book, and
had really been concerned in it any farther than casual hints of
conversation on the subject, would I believe long before this
time have cleared their titles to a share of the reputation ac-
quired by it: which as they have never yet done, I see no reason
why Mr. Boyle should not be looked upon as the sole author of
that piece ; or why, as the labour and merit of it was his own,
his claim to the deserved applause it bas met with should eVer
for the future be called in question." Even his son, however
(the late Lord Corke) in his remarks on this passage in Swift,
does not disp'ute the suggestion, but well observes ; *' that the
gods never bestowed celestial armour except upon heroes, whose
courage and superior strength distinguished them from the rest
of mankind."
* An expression, which he elsewhere professes to have bor
rowed from Cicero {Epist. ad Ait. vii. 12).

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. S75
another in the last! In the title-page, I die the
death of Milo the Crotonian ;
— — ' Remember Mile's end.
Wedged in that timber which he strove to rend.'
The appUcation of which must be this: that as MUo,
after his victories at six several Olympiads, was at
last conquered and destroyed in wrestUng with a
tree ; so I, after I had attained to some smaU repu-
j;ation in letters, am to be quite buffeted and run
down by wooden antagonists. But, in the end of
his book he has got me into Phalaris' BuU, and he
has the pleasure of fancying that he begins to ' hear
me beUow.' WeU, since it is certain that I am in
the BuU, I have performed the part of a sufferer.
For, as the cries of the tormented in old Phalaris'
BuU, being conveyed through pipes lodged in the
machine, were turned into music for the entertain
ment of the tjrrant ; so the complaints, which my
torments express fi-om me, being conveyed to Mr.
Boyle by this answer, are aU dedicated to his plea
sure and diversion. But yet, methinks, when he
was setting up to be Phalaris Junior, the very omen
of it might have deterred him. As the old tyrant
himself at last bellowed in his own BuU, his imitators
ought to consider that at the long run their own
actions may chance to overtake them.*
* Boyle it appears, not satisfied with the celebrity of his
prose, ventured to try poetry, in which no one seems to have
suspected the aid of' the Bees.' Sir Richard Blackniore, in his
' Sajjre against Wit,' in which he paints Bentley ' crowned
with applause ' and seated amidst the spoils of ruin'd wits,'
remarks of ^ his youthful antagonist;
* After his foolish rhymes, both friends and foes
Conclude they know who did not write his prose.'

376 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
' From the caprice, however, or the partiaUty of
the age, the Oxford Confederacy were the general
favourites. The stronger argument and the more
profound erudition of Bentley won for him the
enduring suffrages of the reasoning and the leamed;
but the laughers, who constitute a great majo
rity, were seduced by the art of Boyle and his
alUes. The chief scholars of that day, next to Bentley,
were Kuster, Baxter, and Barnes. Of these, the
two former had the highest opinion of Bentley's
talents and leaming : and, if he met with less respect
from the last, it may be accounted for from the harsh
ness, which he had himself shown in his strictures
upon one or two passages in the recent edition of
Homer by the Emanuel critic* These few, however
* Attached to the 1777 edition of Bentley's Dissertation is a
letter of his to Dr. Davies, President of Queen's College, Cam
bridge, containing a very severe criticism upon this laborious
work, That Dr. Clarke had seen this letter, may be concluded
from his notes on Iliad A, 462. and "E. 101., written in a strain so
unlike himself, that Barnes (had he lived to read them) might
justly have observed, " Nem te dignum, Clarki, fecisti; nam si
ego dignus essem hde contumelid qu^ maximi, at tu ihdigmts qui
faceres tamen." Barnes is mentioned in the Dissertation, p. 325,
as having ' thrust himself into it.'
But whatever errors he may have committed, we ought to
acknowledge ourselves greatly indebted to his industry ; though
his learning was certainly more considerable than the natural
prowess of his understanding, and be was perhaps accurately
characterised by the happy inscription, representing him asfelicis
Memories expectans Judidum. But classical leaming was,
then, very confined. It has fared better in these later days,
even before the Persons and the Burneys made their appearance;
" The profound Greek literature (said Hurd in a letter to War-
burtofi, 1764) seemed to have taken refuge in the farthest nook
of the West, Toup's two pieces of Suidas are considerable in

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 377
iUustrious, partisans could not sustain their hero
against the burlesque and petty conceits of his assaU-
ants ; though DodweU himself, who was supposed to
have been concerned in compiUng the ' Reply,' had the
candor to declare that, ' in no volume of the same
size had he ever discovered so much critical sagacity
and sound learning.'
The titles and dates of the principal productions,
caUed forth by this controversy, are as foUows :
1. Mr. Boyle's Phalaris, 1694.
2. Dr. Bentley's Dissertation upon the Epistles of
Themistocles, &c. 1697.
3, Mr. Boyle's Examination of the Dissertation,
&c. 1698.
4. Dr. Bentley's Reply, 1699.*
their way. He is certainly well skilled in the Greek tongu^
,and ppssesses beside a particle or two discerped from Bentley's
r»i, which I regard as the soul or ro srctr, as we may say, of the
critical world."
" I have a poor opinion," observes Dr. Warburton, " both of
Markland's and Taylor's critical abilities, between friends. 1
;speak from what I have seen : good sense is the foundation of
criticism ; this it is, that has made Dr. Bentley and Bishop Hare
the two greatest critics that were ever in tbe world. Not that
good sense alone will be sufficient. For that considerable part of
it, emending a corrupt text, there must be a certain sagacityj
which is so distinguishing a quality in Dr. Bentley. Dr. Clarke
had all the requisites of a critic but this ; and this he wanted.
Lipsius, Joseph Scaliger, Faber, Isaac Vossius, Salmasius had
it in a great degree ; but these are few, among the infinite tribe
of critics." {MSS. in the British Museum.)
* Reprinted in 1777 by the English Stephani, Bowyer and
Nichols,, under the correction of Dr. Salter (one of the writers
in the ' Athenian Letters,^ and Master of the Charter House)
and enriched with Bowyer's marginal remarks, selected from the
iv^itings and personal communications of Bishops Warburton
and Lowtb, Upton, W, Clarke, Markland, Dr. Salter, Owen»

378 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
5. Dr. King's Dialogues of the Dead, 1699.
and Toup. The peculiarities in it's punctuation and ortho
graphy, however, were animadverted upon at great length
in tbe Critical Review, XLIII. pp. 7 — 12., by the ,Rev. Mr.
Robertson ; who assigns, as a justification of his severity, the
deference due to the character of one of tbe most illustrious
critics that has ever appeared in this nation. Not a phrase (he
observes) not a letter,' of his should be altered upon a mere
hypothesis. In points of orthography the learned, both in our
own country and in others, nay even the literati of future ages,
may be curious to know the sentiments and practice of Dr,
Bentley. It is, therefore, a piece of justice we owe to the Eepub.
lie of Letters, to exhibit a faithful copy of a work, which will be
transmitted with applause to the latest posterity."
It may be added, on Mr. Nichols' authority, as a disgraceful
fact, that of the 350 copies printed of this edition by far the
greater part were sold for waste paper ! ! It is now, in conse
quence, a scarce book. To adduce only one testimony, itself
however upon such a subject instar omnium, in favour of tills
work : Bentldum in immortali istd de Phalaridis EpistoUs Dis-
sertatione, says the uncomplimenting Person. It is, indeed, a
volume of acuteness and erudition '' never to die." The com
positions which approach nearest to it in subtilty and conclusive
ness, are perhaps the Professor's own Letters to Mr. Travis on
the ' Three Heavenly Witnesses,' 1 John v. 7. ; and Paley'i
* Horee Paulines,'
For the amusement of scholars, I cannot forbear extracting
from Burgess' Edition oi Dawes' Miscellanea Critica a note
bearing upon the learned subject of this piece of biography;
Huic spedmini — novam et minusctdam Digamma formam F pro
vetustd Hid F feci curavit Salterus, quce cesteris Uteris conveniret ¦
(sque ac 1, S-, |, Sfc Recordari quoque potuit notisiimum Po-
pii locum.
While towering o'er your alphabet, like Saul,
Stands our Digamma, and o'ertops them all {Dune. iv. 217.) ;
Ubi Satiricus ille, in versibus quidem facetis at admodum ridicuUs
Bentldum et Digamma suum scilicet in ludibrium vertit, imp-
niosior sani quam doctior poeta. De loco illo, cujits sales nontiM
desipuit Salteri inventum, vide quoque Fosterum, p. 133.

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 379
6. A short Account of Dr. Bentley's Humanity
and Justice, 1699 (ascribed, also, to Dr. King) ; and
7. A short Review of the Controversy between
Mr. Boyle and Dr. Bentley, 1701.
In 1696, on being admitted to the degree of D.D.
at Cambridge, he preached his Commencement Ser
mon, on 1 Pet. iU. 15. Some time afterward, he was
admitted ad eundem at Oxford.
About this time, the University of Cambridge pro
jected a pubUcation of some of the classics in quarto,
for the use of the Duke of Gloucester. Bentley
being consulted on the design, advised Laughton, the
destined editor of VirgU, to ' foUow Heinsius very
closely ; ' but his suggestion was neglected. Terence
was pubUshed by Long, Horace by Talbot, and Ca*
tuUus, TibuUus, and Propertius by Mr. Annesleys
afterward Earl of Anglesey. Bentley procured the
types from HoUand upon the occasion. By the ex
press desire of Grsevius, he pubUshed his ' Animadver
sions and Remarks upon CaUimachus,' coUecting at
the same time and transmitting to that celebra,ted
critic some scattered fragments of the poet, which
were printed abroad in 1697- Upon this occasion
being charged with having piUaged some manuscript
notes of Stanley, .lent to him by Sir Edward Sher-
bum, he pubUshed in the preface to his ' Dissertation
on Phalaris,' a minute and copious reply ; which, how*
ever, was in many particulars positively contradicted
by Sir Edward himself. But whatever obUgations
he might have to those papers, it cannot be doubted
that he contributed, Ukewise, great additions of his
own. February 1, 1699-1700, on the death of Dr. Mon.
1

380 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
tagu, with a view of restoring discipUne and learning
in Trinity CoUege, he was presented by six eminent
Bishops, to whom King WilUam had committed the
disposal of many of the ecclesiastical preferments in
the gift ofthe crown,to the Mastership of that Sodety;
upon which, he resigned his prebend of Worcester:
and in June 1701, he was coUated by Bishop Patrick
to the Archdeaconry of Ely in the room of Dr. SayweL
Soon after the accession of Queen Anne, he was
appointed Royal Chaplain,. as he had also been under
her predecessor.
In 1709, from his overbearing domination at the
head of his new coUege, and perhaps also from some
unpopular reformations of offices and curtaUment&
of salaries, in which he probably had not been
whoUy indifferent to his own interests, a complauit
was urged against him before the Bishop of Ely (Dr.
More) as visitor, by the Vice-Master, and the seven
senior FeUows, accusing him among other charges of
having embezzled the coUege-money. Upon this, he
in 1710 pubUshed his ' Present State of Trinity Coh
lege,' in which he insisted, that the Crown was the
Visitor. And thus began a quarrel, which continued
with unabating vu-ulence tiU 1731, when the Crown
asserted it's general visitatorial right, but decUned in
terfering in the existing dispute. And thus, through
certain niceties of law (as Whiston says) and ambi
guities of statutes, the matter virtuaUy terminated ifi
Bentley's favour.*
• With respect to this protracted dispute, we are informed by
Whiston that, after four years of unexceptionable conduct, Bent
ley was induced in a single instance to recede from that best of
rules (now invariably observed in Trinity College elections) of

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY, 381
In 1710, he pubUshed at Amsterdam his Critical
t)bservations upon the two first Comedies of Aris-
' Detur digniori,' in the appointment to a Fellowship. And hence
ensued the feud, and all it's consequences. " I will only relate here
what I take to have been the a-j«lii» -^ivhi, or first beginning of his
unhappy management, which I was myself a witness to. I always
compare this his proceeding to the Pythagoric Y, where the ascent
from the bottom is direct and unexceptionable, till you come
to tbe divarication of the two lines ; whence Virtue proceeds
straight on to the right hand and Vice to the left, and where
though at first the distance of the lines be very small and easily
stepped over, yet does it after a while become too large for
any step whatsoever. Now Dr. Bentley, as I have already inti
mated, for about four years had proceeded up the bottom stem
very directly, and had examined every candidate for scholarships
and fellowships thoroughly, and seemed as nearly as possible to
have given every one the place he really deserved ; when about
1703 or 1704, he gave a fellowship to one, whom he confessed to
be inferior in learning to his antagonist, though it being a new
thing with him, he did it with reluctance. The reasons he gave
for doing so this once, he told me, were these two ; the one, that
• Mr. Stubbs the less deserving, was nephew to Dr. Stubbs, Pro
fessor of the Hebrew tongue in the University, and Vice-master
of the College, who was so rich that he could give the College
10,000Z.' (though, by the way, I never heard that he gave it one
groat) : the other reason was that, • if he made Mr. Stubbs fellow,
his uncle would probably be his fast friend at all future elections,
and by. these means he could in a manner govern them all as he
pleased.' Upon these two considerations, he ventured to choose
Mr. Stubbs against a more deserving candidate, and so to break
in upon his integrity; and, I think, he never afterward returned
t-o it : which as it was of the most fatal consequence to that Col
lege, so did the Master find it very unhappy to himself also. For
Mr. Stubbs not only proved a vile man, to his great disreputation ;
but he, together with his uncle, came before the Bishop of Ely
(More) in open court, to be witnesses against him, in order to his
expulsion. Hence we may all learn that old maxim, Principiis
obstare, and never to begin to do an unjust or wicked thing."
{Whiston's Memmrs.) Mr, Nichols, likewise, in his 'Literary
Anecdotes of the Eighteenth "Century,' states that Bentley con-'

382 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
tophanes ; and at Rheims his Emendations of the
Fragments of Menander and PhUemon, under the
sented to elect Zachary Pearce, afterward Bishop of Rochester,
Fellow of Trinity College, on the recommendation of Lord Chief
Justice Parker (subsequently Earl of Macclesfield, to whom
Pearce at the age of twenty six had fortunately recommended
himself by the dedication of his Cicero de Oratore in 1716) upon
condition that his Lordship should unmake him again as soon as
it lay in his power to give him a. living. — " Melanpholy consi
deration," observes Mr. Ashby, in loc. " that a young man from
the foundation of Westminster, who could publish a tract of
TuUy's, must have a patron to ask the Master of Trinity, him
self the first of scholars in the same line, that he may be a
fellow!" And yet (upon what principle, or want of principle rather,
must now perhaps for ever remain unknown) the same Dr. Bent
ley, after inviting the ingenious Mr. Benjamin StiUingfleet to Ms
college, from respect to the memory of his father and his grand
father, to the first of whom he bad been tutor and to the latter
chaplain, caused him to be refused afeUowship : a! disappointment,
for which he shamelessly apologised by saying, that '' it was a
pity a gentleman of Mr. Stillingfleet's parts should be buried
within the walTs'of a college ! " But infamous conduct of this kind,
whether traced to a Bentley or to one in every respect infinitely
less than Bentley, cannot by any such miserable palliation be
sheltered from the detestation or the contempt of honourable
minds. From his ' Essay on Conversation,' 1757, printed in the
first volume of Dodsley's Collection of Poems, it appears that this
respectable man, after a lapse of upward of thirty years, still felt
himself sore from Dr. Bentley's cruel and unmerited treatment.
Mr. Gough, in his ' Anecdotes of Topography,' Art. ' Cam*
bridgeshire,'' has given an accurate account of his controversies
both with his College and with the University : and there are,
likewise, some authentic papers upon the subject in the Harleian
MSS. Though the affair, however, never came to a trial, it ap
pears from various circumstances (particularly, from an unan-.
swered letter of Dr. Middleton's), that there was some foundatipn
for the charges adduced. For Dr. Middleton's animosity he was
indebted to. the circumstance of having once contemptuously/
called him, in reference to his musical passion, '. fiddling Coa-

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 883
name of ' Phileleutherus Lipsiensis.' The foUowing
year was distinguished by the first edition of his cele,'
brated Horace. In this, he proposed not so much to
explain, as to corred, his author by the help of MSS.,
early editions, and conjecture ; and such was his acu
men, that his emendations (even when not decidedly
genuine) have almost every where the air of; the
highest probabUity. Abroad, it encountered in Le
Clerc it's chief opponent. At home, two smaU vo
lumes came out in numbers, entitled ' The Odes and
Epodes of Horace, in Latin and EngUsh, with a Trans
lation of Dr. Bentley's Notes. To which are added.
Notes upon Notes, done in the Bentleian stUe and
manner ; ' a performance of considerable spirit and
humour. In 1713, he pubUshed, under his formerly assumed
name of ' Phileleutherus Lipsiensis,' his admirableRe-
yers.' This led Middleton to deeper studies. Upon Bentley's
• Proposals ' for an edition ofthe New Testament in 1716, he re
marked," paragraph by paragraph," with a keenness which com
pletely cut up the project. The subscription-money {20001.)
was returned, and the work pendet interruptum ! Bentley's puny
revenge was, under the signature J. E. (the two first vowels of
his two names), to treat the ' Remarks' as if written by a Dr. Col-
batch his enemy, senior Fellow of Trinity College, and Casu
istical Professor of Divinity ; thus indulging himself at once in
the double gratification of abusing the accused, and showing his
contempt for the real author. The former object he accomplished
to a degree, which the Vice-CIiancellor and his friends pro
nounced " a most scandalous and malicious libel : " and the latter
drew from Dr. Middleton a second series of 'Remarks' sanc
tioned by his name, and as pungent as those which had preceded.
M.'s very appropriate motto was, ' Docfus criticus et adsuetus
urere, secare, ihclementer omnis generis libros tractare, apices, syl
labus, voces, dickones confodere et stilo exigere, continebitne ille ai
integra et rntaminato divince sapientice monumento crudeles un
gues.' (P. Burmanni Orat.)

b. ltd te i

384 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
marks upon CoUins' ' Discourse on Free-thinkuig/
which he dedicated to Dr. Hare.*
In 1715, he preached a sermon against. Popery, on
November 5, before the University ; which drawing
forth some remarks from an anonymous critic, he
published a reply to them in 1717-
In the intervening year, upon the death of Dr.
James, he succeeded to the chair of Regius Professor
of Divinity ; and in right of his office became pos
sessed of the valuable preferment of Somershani Pid-
ley and Colne in the county of Huntingdon. He now
pubUshed his proposals for an edition of the , Gre^k
Testament, in which he stated his determination
not to use any manuscript of less than a thousand
years of age, of which he himself possessed at that
time twenty in his study. The caustic remarks, how-
ever, made upon his projects by his keen and impla
cable enemies frustrated the undertaking. This was
of no smaU disservice to the cause of sacred Uterature.
The completion of it was the principal employment of
his Ufe. For the purpose of coUating MSS., one of
his nephews traversed Europe at his expense. From
* Collins was destined to sustain rude attacks, likewise, from
other quarters. His superficial and illiberal work being published
in 1713, when party-zeal was at the highest, was instantly pro
nounced by the Tories, as it's author was a great stickler for the
Hanover succession, 'the creed of the greater part of their an
tagonists.* The Whigs, ^on their part, indignantly disclaimed
all connexion with a writer, who far from being of the Low
Church, plainly discovered himself to be of none at all. Hence
probably Steele's paper, the ' Guardian,' contends so fi-eqaently
and so vehemently against him, not only in it's virulent Third
Number (which almost wienies to the Freethinker the common
benefits of air and water), but also, less directly, in Nos. ix, xxvii,
Iv, Ixii, Ixx, kxvii,lxxxiii, &c. all said to have been written by
Bishop Berkeley.

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 38S
his letter addressed to the Archbiishop of Canterbury,
dated April 15, 1716, the foUowing extract is sub
joined: — ¦ " Since that time I have fallen into a course of
studies, that led me to peruse many of the oldest
MSS. of the Greek Testament, and of the' Latin too
of St. Jerom, of which there are several in England a
fuU thousand years old. The result of which has
been, that I find I am able (what some thought im
possible) to give an edition of the Greek Testahient,
exactly as it was in the best examples at the time of
the CouncU of Nice, so that there shaU not be twenty
words, nor even particles, difference : and this shaU
carry it's own demonstration in every verse, which I
affirm cannot be so done of any other ancient book
Greek or Latin. So that that book, which by the
present management is thought the most uncertain,
shaU have a testimony of certainty above aU Other
books whatever, and an end put at once to aU the va
rious readings now or hereafter.
" The New Testament has been under a hard fate
since the invention of printing. After the Com-
plutenses and Erasmus, who had but very ordinary
MSS., it has become the property of bookseUers.
Robert Stephens' edition, set out ahd regulated by
himself alone, is now become the standard. The
text stands, as if an Apostle was his Compositor.
" No heathen author has had such iU fortune,
Terence, Ovid, &c., for the first century after printing,
went about with twenty thousand errors in them. But
when leamed men undertook them, and from the
oldest MSS. set out corrected*^ editions, those errors
feU and vanished. But if they had kept to the first
pubUshed text, and set the various readings only in the
TOL. V. 2 c

386 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
margin, those classic authors would be as dogged vvith
variations as Dr. MUl's Testament is.
" Sixtus (V.) and Clemens (VIII,), at a vast ex
pense, had an assembly of divines to revise and adjust
the Latin Vulgate, and then enacted their new edition
authentic : but I find, though I have not, dis
covered any thing done dolo mala, they were quite
unequal to the affair. They were mere theologi,.
had no experience in MSS., nor made use of good
Greek copies, and foUowed books of five hundred years
before books of double that age : nay, I beUeve they
took these new ones for the older of the two ; for it
is not every body, who knows the age of a MS.
" To conclude — In a word, I find that by taking
two thousand errors out of the Pope's Vulgate, and as
many out of the Protestant Pope Stephens', I can set
Out an edition of each in columns, without using any
book under nine hundred years old, that shaU so ex
actly agree word for word, and (what at first amazed
me) order for order, that no two taUies nor two in
dentures can agree better.
" I affirm that, these, so placed, wUl prove each
other to a demonstration :, for I alter not a letter of
my own head, without the authority of these old wit
nesses.* And the beauty of the composition (barba*
* To this he was pledged by paragraph the fifth of his Propo
sals. " The author is very sensible, that in tbe Sacred Writings
there is no place for conjectures or emendations. Diligence and
fidelity, with some judgement and experience, are the characters
here requisite. He declares, therefore, that he does not alter
one letter in the text, without the authorities subjoined in the
notes, &c." This, his adyarsary says, was done ' to quiet the ap
prehensions people were under, lest he should treat the sacred
writers with as little ceremony as he had done the profane, mangle
snd alter them at pleasure, agreeably to his own taste and judge:
1

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 387
rous, God knows, at best) is so improved as to make
it more worthy of a revelation, and yet no one text of
consequence is injured or weakened.
ment, without tegard to the authority of MSS." In the sixth
paragraph he adds, " If the author has any thing to suggest to
ward a change ofthe text, not supported by any copies now ex
tant, be will offer it separately in his ' Prolegomena.' " — " In this
workj he is of no sect or party; his design is, to serve the whole
Christian name. He draws no consequences in his notes; makes
no oblique glancesupon any disputed points, old or new." He then,
after announcing in his peculiar spirit (as it is alleged against
him by one of his adversaries) that " he consecrates this work
as a xsi[*iti?iiiiii, a Ai^» sa-au, a charter, a Magna Charta to the
whole Christian Church, to last when all the ancient MSS. there
quoted may be lost and extinguished;" winds up with represent
ing the great expense to be incurred, as the size is to be two
tomes in folio, and the letter, paper, and ink the best that Eu
rope affords ; naming his coadjutor, collator, overseer, and cor
rector of the press, Mr. John Walker of Trinity, 'a young man,
who is to divide with himself the issue of the enterprise, whether
gain or loss ; ' and finally states the terms of subscription for the
smaller and great paper, three and five guineas respectively, of
which a part is in both cases to be advanced by the subscribers.
It surely cannot be regarded as dispassionate criticism in Dr.
Middleton, when we hear him asserting in reply, that Bentley
had " neither talents nor materials proper for the work he had
undertaken, and that religion was much more likely to receive
detriment than service from it ; the time, manner, and other cir
cumstances of publishing these Proposals making it but too evi
dent, that they were hastened out to serve quite different ends
than those of common Christianity ! " He affects, indeed, in
the Preface to his second and avowed set of Remarks, to be
alarmed at the threat of a meditated Answer to his preceding.
Pamphlet ; recollecting that his antagonist, in his Horace, had
pronounced himself non rarb datd opera brevior contractiorque,
consultb viribus parcens, et quce inpromptu erant opes dissimulans ;
ut siplidi et ad depugnandum parati se in laqueos inopinantes in-
duerent, risum jocumque nasutioribus daturi; but all his fears, he
adds, on the appearance ofthe Reply were speedily at an end.
2 C 2

388 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
..'' My Lord, if a. casual fire ^ould take either his
Majesty's Ubrary or the King's of France, aU the
world could not do -this," &c. - ^
In a subsequent letter, he adds :
" In this work I indulge nothing to any conjecture,
not even in a letter, but proceed solely upon authority
of copies, and fathers of that age. And what wUl be
the event about the said verse of John (1 Epist. v. 7.)
I myself know not yet, having not used aU the old
copies I have information of.
" But by this you see that> in my proposed work^
the fate of that verse wUl be a mere question of fact,
Ypu endeavour to prove (and that is aU you aspire to)
that it may .have been written by the Apostle, being
consonant to his dodrine. This I concede to you j
and if the fourth centuiy knew that text, let it come
in, in'God's name : but if that age did not know it,
then Ariaoism in it's hdght was beaten down, with
out the help of that verse ; and let the fact prove as
it wiU, the doctrine is unshaken."
in' 1717, George I. being on a visit to the Uni
versity of Cambridge, and having nominated by
mandate ^veral persons for the degree of D.D., Dr.
Bentiey (whose office it was, as Professor, to perfomi
the ceremony caUed 'Creation') demanded four gui
neas from each, in addition to the broad piece of gold
customarily presented upon such occasions. Hence
arose a second dispute, originated chiefly by Dr. Mid
dleton-,* during which the Professor, for his contu^
* Who however, with several others, consented to pay the fee
in question, upon condition that the money should be restored,
if it were not afterward decreed to be his right. In spite of a
determination against him, Bentley kept the money, upon which
Dr. Middleton commenced an actibn. The Professor refusing to

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 389,
macious disregard of academical authority,* was; first
suspended and afterward degraded t but upon peti-r
tion to his Majesty, the matter was, after successive
references, to the CouncU and to a Committee of
he GouncU, brought before the Court of King's
Bench; which after hearing both sides issued it's
mandamus, j.chaj:gmg the University to reverse their
proceedings, and restore him to aU his privUeges
and honours.
Of a natural temper, which enabled him to ride
create the refractory candidates. Dr. Grigg (who was then Vice-
Chancellor) ordered some other Doctor to perform the cere
mony; and accordingly Dr. Fisher, Master of Sidney College,
i;reated several for the ordinary gratuity of a broad piece. 'He
likewise, by the advice of his friends, published within the year
1719, ' A full and impartial Account of all the late Proceedings
against Dr. Bentley, in two Parts ; ' Some Remarks on a Pamph
let, &c.' (by Dr. Sykes) in favour of his great adversary, and
• A true Account ofthe present State of Trinity College iii Cam
bridge, under the oppressive Government of their Master, Ridhatd
Bentley, late D.D.;' of which last, in consequence of a prosecui
tion instituted by Dr. B., be publicly advertised himself to be the
author. It should be added, that these proceedings against the
illustrious Master of Trinity were by many suspected to flow less
from any real demerit in their object, than fVom a certain Spiirlt
of opposition to tbe CCurt, of which he was regarded as the
great academical bulwark: Dr.M. being then a strong Tory,
though like Bishop Gooch and other considerable persons, he
subsequently became a zealous Whig.
* In consequence of an afiidavit made by the Beadle, that Dr.
Bentley had said, ^ I will not b6 concluded by what the Vice*
Chancellor (Dr, Gooch) and two or three of his friends shall de
termine over a bottle,' he was condemned unheard, and deprived
of all bis academical degrees, rights, and offices. His judge had
said, ' if ever Bentley came before him, he would condemn him.'
The 'friends ' wete Drs: Covel, Balderston, Lany, Adams, and
Sherlock, the rival Professor Dr, Fisher, and Drs, Grigg and
Jenkin, Masters of St. John's College and Clare Hall.

390 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
out ihese storms with Uttle interruption either of his
tranquUUty or of his Uterary pursuits, and generaUy,
indeed, opposed to adversaries whose rancor urged
them to exaggerate charges (originaUy, perhaps," in
no instance unfounded) to a degree fatal to their
success. Dr. Bentley appears to have been too rapa
cious of money : and yet the noble stUe, in which' he
fitted up the Lodge at Trinity CoUege, sufficiently
proves that he did not "hug the mammon for itself."
In 1725, at a pubUc Commenceirient, he deUvered
an elegant Latin speech on creating seven Doctors of
Divinity, (ElUs and Mawson of Bene't, Mangey, New-
come, and Palmer of St. John's, Waterland of Mag
dalen, and Bishop of Sidney CoUege), in which is
perspicuously set forth the whole process of that cere
mony. He, afterward, prefixed it to his edition of
Terence in the foUowing year.
With regard to the last-mentioned work, the fol
lowing circumstances have been stated: Dr. Hare,
himself a good scholar, had the highest reverence for
Bentley's superiority. To him had been addi'essed
the ' Remarks upon ColUns on Freethinking ;' and in
a tract, now scarce, and not included in the coUec
tion of his works, he had returned ' The Clergyman's
Thanks to Phileleutherus Lipsiensis iov those Re
marks.' During the continuance of their intimacy,
Hare used frequently to introduce the subject of the
Terentian metres, upon which (as, indeed, upon all
subjects, when he saw taste or genius soUcitous for
information) Bentley was UberaUy communicative. At
last, as he often returned complaining with the dia-
logist in Cicero, ' while I am with you, I seem to
understand it aU ; but, when I come to con it over by
myself at home, I find I know nothing : ' Bentley

' DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 391
told him ' he must get Faemus.'* By the help of
this valuable critic, and a few more smuggled lec
tures. Hare thought himself now competent to give a
* Romce vetustissimos omnium (says Bentley) qui hodie super.
sunt Terentii Codices nactus [Faemus'] luculentissimam editionem
Petro Victorio procurandam moriens reliquit ; dne cujus vel auxilio
vel saltem usu quicquam hic novi adtentare,foret hominis de opera sud
et existimaiione ludentis. These MSS., Hare informs us in his
Preface, be owed not less to his general reputation as a scholar,
than to his interest with his patron Pius IV. of the family of Me
dici, and his nephew, the pride ofthe purple. Cardinal Borromeo,
The antecedent quarrel of the two editors was as follows :
Bentley, capricious in his political attachments, had dedicated to
Lord Treasurer Oxford the Horace, which was originally to have
done honour to his fellow-collegian Lord Halifax. Lord Towns
hend who, in 1724, had caused to be founded a new Professor
ship (of Modern Languages) in each University, and had impar
tially divided his favour between them likewise in a second in
stance by summoning from each an equal number of clergymen
to preach in course at Whitehall, had farther procured for his own
seminary at Cambridge the Sovereign's donation of Bishop
More's Library, and meditated securing the changeable scholar
by a magnificent pension of 1000/., in consideration of his under
taking to publish, suo arbitrio, some of the classics for the use
ofthe royal grandchildren. A malignant suggestion (as Bentley
was persuaded) of the negotiating friend Hare, or as some have
asserted, of Gooch, defeated the project. Instead of a certain
stipend and an arbitrary mode of publication, it was invidiously
proposed, that the remuneration should be rated at so much per
sheet! Bentley, with noble scorn, rejected the ofier. And he
discarded likewise the agent, through whose medium, perhaps
at whose suggestion, it was made. But " I chose," said he,
" dissuere amidtiam, non disnimpere."
Hare, iri an ' Epistola Critica,' made a feeble attack upon the
Vulcania arma of his great adversary, and drew from Whiston
the remark, ' how intolerable it was, that while the illustrious
laymen Grotius, Newton, and Locke were employing their talents
on sacred studies, two powerful divines v/ere fighting about a
play-book.'

392 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
new edition of Terence,, which he had long clandes
tinely projected. It made it's appearance in 1724,
dedicated to Charles Viscount Townshend of Rain-
ham, at that time Secretary of State, in whose favour
he had undermined Bentiey. The latter, naturally
exasperated by the treachery of the whole business,
supplanted with his patron, ' interverted ' (to adopt
his own expression) in his Uterary object, and aheady
estranged from Hare upon other accounts, with a view
of completely ruining the new work rapidly hastened
out his own, aUowing only a week to each play,
within which short space he finished their respective
annotations ; and the other ' has never been heard
of since.' His volume was pubUshed in 1726, with
the notes of Gabriel Faemus mingled among his
own, a Schediasma on the Metres of his author, and
by way of retaUation, as he knew Hare was pre
paring his Phsedrus, a corrected edition of the Fabu
list and the S^nt entice Publii Syri.
In 1732, Dr. Bentley gave to the worlihis edition
of MUton's Paradise Lost, an elegant piece of typo-
gra,phy, but not advantageous to his Uterary reputa
tion. He does not appear, indeed, to have anticipated
fame from the undertaking. " Had these notes/ he
observes at the end of his Preface, " beeh written
forty years ago, it Would then have been prudence
to have suppressed them, for fear of injuring one's
rising fortune. But now, when seventy years janh
dudum memorem monuerunt, and spoken loudly in
my ears
Mitte leves spes et certamma divitiarum,
I made the notes extempore, and put them to the

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 893
press as soon as made ; without any apprehension of
growing leaner by censures, or plumper by commen
dations." To this undertaking he was ledj it is supposed, by
the suggestion of Queen CaroUne, who complained
that 'he had confined his criticism to fordgn classics :'
but, in spite of his. renunciation of the cert amina di
vitiarum, he did not disdain to receive a hundred
guineas from the bookseUers for his subitaneous la
bours. He had prepared also an edition of ManUiuS, but
the dearness of paper and the want of good types
long. intercepted it's pubUcation: and he. meditated
an edition of Hesychius, in whom (as. he assured
Dr. MUl)^ he could ' correct five thousand. faults.' -His
emendations of the ' Tusculan Questions' of Cicero
were pubUshed by his friend Davis, in his edition of
that work.
He died at Cambridge, July 14,T742,.in his eighty
first year,^ and was buried in Tiinity CoUege .ChapeL
To his -latest hours he could read the smaUest Greek
character without the assistance of glasses ; and his
death -was at last occasioned by a young man's dis
order, a pleurisy.
Of a large and robust frame of body, and of strong
features, he had Ukewise a dignity of demeanor al
most amounting to severity, which probably deepened
the general impression of his moroseness and arro
gance: yet was his disposition naturaUy so gentle,
and Ws temper so svreet, that ' he never (we are told)
• He used to compare himself to an old trunk, ' which if let
alone, will stand long in a corner ; but, if jumbled by movingi
will soon fall to pieces,'

394 DR, RICHARD BENTLEY,
read a touching story without tears.' A slight para
lytic stroke, which he had* once suffered; it has been
suggested, contributed to render this softness of' his
nature more apparent ; though, previously to that
event, he was distinguished in his family for 'his
singular suavity.* "His ordinary stile of conver
sation (says his grandson, Mr. Cumberland, in his
Auto-biography) was naturally lofty, and his frequent
use of ' thou ' and 'thee' carried with it a kind
of dictatorial tone, that savoured more of the closet
than the court. This is readily admitted ; and this,
on first approaches, might mislead a stranger. But
the native candor and inherent tenderness of his
heart could not long be veUed from observation': for
his feeUngs and affections were at once too impulsive
to be long repressed, and he too careless of conceal
ment to attempt at qualifying them. Such was his
sensibility toward human sufferingi, that it became
a' duty with his family to divert the conversation from
aU topics of that sort : and if he touched upon them
himself, he was betrayed into agitations, which if any
one ascribes to paralytic weakness, he wUl greatly mis
take a man, who to the last hour of his life possessed
his faculties firm and in thefr fuU vigour. His eihO'
tions on these occasions had no other source and ori
gin, but in the natural and pure benevolence of liis
heart. " He was communicative to aU, without distiiiC'
tion, that sought information or that resorted to him
for assistance; fond of his college almost to enthu-
* In the contest about the visitatorial power, it is said, on meet
ing bis old friend Bishop More in array against him, he actually
fainted away in the court !

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 395
siasm, and ever zealous for the honour of the purple
gown of Trinity. When he held examinations for
feUowships, and the modest candidate exhibited marks
of agitation and alarm, he never failed to interpret can
didly of such symptoms : and on those occasions he
was never known to press the hesitating and embar
rassed examinant, but oftentimes on the contrary
would take aU the pains of expounding on himself,
and credit the exonerated youth for answers and
interpretations of his own suggesting. If this was
not strict justice, it was (at least, in my conception of
it) something better, and more amiable.
" Bentley's wife was a woman remarkable for sen-
sibUity and judgement, and a most amiable disposi
tion. She loved, and revered, her husband. When
in conversation with him on the subject of his works,
she found occasion to lament that ' he had bestowed
so great a portion of his. time and talents upon criti
cism, instead of employing them upon original com
position ; ' he acknowledged the justice of her regret
with extreme sensibiUty, and remained for a consider
able time thoughtful and seemingly embarrassed by
the nature of her remark. At last, recoUecting him
self, he said ; ' ChUd, I am sensible I have not always
turned my talents to the proper use, for which I should
presume they were given to me : yet I have done
something for the honour of my God, and the edifica
tion of my feUow-creatures. But the wit and genius
of those Old Heathens beguUed me ; and, as I de
spaired of raising up myself to their standard upon
fair ground, I thought the only chance I had of
looking over thefr heads was to get upon thefr
shoulders.' " "
" I had a sister," Cumberland elsewhere observes.

396 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
" somewhat older than myself Had there been any rf
that sternness in niy grandfather, which is so falsely
imputed to him, it may weU be supposed, we should
have been awed into sUence in his presence, to which
we were admitted every day. Nothing can be farther
from the truth: he was the unwearied patron and
promota* of aU our chUdish sports and salUes; at all
times ready to detach himself from any topic of con
versation, to take an interest and bear his part in our
amusements. The eager curiosity natural to our age,
and the questions it gave birth to (so teazing to many
parents) he, on the contrary attended to and encou
raged, as the claims of infant reason never to be
evaded or abused ; strongly recommending, th^ ' to
aU such inquiries answers should be given according te
the strictest truth, and information dealt to us in the
clearest terms, as a sacred duty never to be departed
from.' I have broken in upon him many a time in
his hours of study, when he would put his.book aside,
ring his hand-beU for his servant,^ and be led to Ms
shdves to take down a picture-book for my amuse?
ment. I do. not say, that his good-natUre always
gained it's object, as the pictures his books generally
suppUed me with were anatomical drawings of dis?
sected bodies, very Uttle calculated to communifiatfl
deUght : but he had nothing better to produce ; and
surely such an effort on his part, however unsuccess-
fuli was no feature of a cynic — a cynic ' should be
made of sterner stuff.'
" Once, and only once, I recoUect his giving me a
gentle rebuke for making a most outrageous noisein
the room over his Ubrary, and disturbing him- in his
studies. I had no apprehension of anger from him,
and confidently answered that ' I could not help it, as
4

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 397
I had been at battledore and shuttlecock with Master
Gooch, the Bishop of Ely's son : ' ' And I have been
at this sport with his father,' he repUed ; ' but thin^
has been the more amusing game — so there's no harm
done:' "
He also adds, that ' ColUns the Freethinker in his
latter days having faUen into indigence, Bentley who
conceived himself in some degree responsible for his
loss of reputation, with equal deUcacy and UberaUty
contrived to reUeye his necessities.'
Backward in general to cultivate the sodety of
any except those, who were distinguished by thefr
talents and acqufrements, where he found those quar
fities he became a warm and sincere friend. As a
husband, he was affectionate, and as a parent most
indulgent. He married a daughter of Sfr John Bernard of
Brampton in Huntingdonshfre, by whom he had one
son Richard (who died in 1782, after having spent a
life of distress in consequence of his imprudences,
though patronised successively by Horace Walpole,
Bubb Doddington, and Lord Bute) and two daugh
ters, EUzabeth and Joannai. Elizabeth married first
Humphrey Ridge, Esq., and secondly the Rev. Dr.
FaveU, Redor of Witton near Huntingdon. Joanna,
the ' Phoebe ' of Dr. Byrom's celebrated pastoral,
• My time, O ye Muses,' &c. ; (pubUshed in the Spec
tator, No. 603) married the Rev. Denison Cumber
land, son of the Bishop of Peterborough, and himself
subsequently Bishop of Kilmore, and was mother of
the late Richard Cumiberland, Esq.
' When We reflect upon his atbUities and his erudi
tion, and particularly his unparaUeUed metrical know
ledge, in the attainment of which he had been as
sisted by his uncommon accuracy of e^, giving him

398 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
the nicest perception of rhythmical harmony, it surely
casts no Uttle disgrace upon our country, that even
his Uterary reputation should have been so long re
garded with indifference, and that he himself should
have been represented as a ' mere verbal critic ' * and
* Dr. Lowth, in a ' Letter to the Right Reverend Author of
the Divine Legation of Moses Demonstrated,' 1765, haying ani
madverted upon the character of Dr. Bentley, was answered by
Mr. Cumberland, in a Letter published in 1767. " He was
hooked in (says the pious grandson) as a ' mere verbal critic,'
who in matters of taste and elegant literature was contemptibly
deficient, aut caprimulgus autfossor; terms, that in English would
have been downright blackguardism. — All the world (Mr. C. con
tinues) knows, that Warburton and Lowth had mouthed and
mumbled each other till their very hands blushed, and their lawn
sleeves were bloody. I should have thought that the Prelate,
who had Warburton for his antagonist, would hardly have found
leisure from his own self-defence, to have turned aside and fixed
his teeth in a by-stander. Yet so it was ! Upon this " unmanly
unprovoked attack, the nearest in blood and strongest in ca
pacity" (Richard Bentley) not only declined having any thing
to do with the affair, but also warned his nephew, who was
buckling on his armour, that ' he was about to draw a complete
discomfiture on his cause.' This did not, however, discourage
the youthful champion. He drew his bow hardily ; and the ar
row, he informs us, did not miss his aim. Lowth had the grace
not to attempt a justification of himself; and refused even to
sanction a reply tendered to him by a clergyman of his diocese,
acknowledging that ' C. had just reason for.a retaliation.' I ex
tract one paragraph from the pamphlet in question : " Recollect,
my Lord, the warmth, the piety, with which you remonstrated
against Bishop Warburton's treatment of your father in a pas
sage of his Julian : It is not (you there say) in behalf qf myself,
that I expostulate ; but qf one, for whom I am much more concerned
— my father. These are your Lordship's words — amiable, affect
ing expressions ! instructive lesson of filial devotion! Alas! my
Lord, that you, who were thus sensible to the least speck which
fell upon the reputation of your father, should be so inveterate
against the fame of one at least as eminent, and perhaps not less
dear to bis family."

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. sm
a pedant without genius. This however we may re
gard, perhaps with truth, as less owing to the Boylean
controversy, than to the wits and especiaUy the poets
ofthe day, who from various causes combined against
him. The ' slashing Bentley ' of Pope* wUl be re-.
membered and repeated by thousands, who are utterly
incapable of ascertaining or even of comprehending
his real merit. But strangers have already done him
that justice, which his countrymen are now only
beginning tardily to pay to his memory. Kuster
pronounced him Vir supra captum sceculi sui docttis ;
magnum hodih literarum decus et incrementum;. and
Princeps criticorum is a term frequently appUed to
him by foreign Ups. His emendations, indeed, are
* Upon, this ¦ passage Dr. Warburton observes, This great
man, with all his faults, deserved to be put into better corhpany.
The following words of Cicero describe him not amiss: Habuit
a natura genus quoddam acuminis, quod etiam arte limaverat, quod
erat in reprehendendis verbis versatum et solers : sed scepe stoma-
chosum, nonnunquam frigidum, interdum etiam facetum. But
Warburton, with all his learning, was no match for Bentley. In
his Correspondence with Hurd he repeats, what he had already
asserted in a note to the third section of the second book of his
Divine Legation, that • the only thing the Oxford people hit off
was, his plagiarism from Vizzanius ; which yet he repelled in
such a manner, as to deter them from supporting their charge,
though from that very manner Warburton inferred his conscious
ness of guilt.' By the brevity of his statement, however, in the
note above referred to, he affected to be merciful to Bentley ;
and even Hare (he says) who had at first thought him too hard
upon the memory of his old acquaintance, confessed on hear
ing the particulars, that ' he had indeed spared him.' The whole
of this charge is triumphantly repelled by a paper in the Supple
ment to the Classical Journal, No. xviii. He could not, in fact,
as alleged by the Oxford cabal, and inferred by Warburton, have
quoted his Jamblichus from Vizzanius ; for the passage is not in
Vizzanius, but merely a reference to it.

400 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
often so exquisitely happy, and so pecuUarly appropriate
to the stUe and manner of his author, that we canjiot
help admiring their ingenuity, however from their
wanting the sanction of MSS. we may doubt thdi;
justness. His chief error was, that he estimated a
dextrous conjecture, as if it had been founded upon
incontrovertible proof, and thus enlarged the bound..
aries of verbal criticism beyond aU reasonable mea
sure; forgetting that many imperfections are to-be
found in the most correct of modern poets, . and
therefore probably deformed, in at least an equal de^
grecj the writings of antiquity. His own favourite
Horace, in fact, had told him, that the very greatest
of them aU sometimes ' nodded.' (
But ' no man could have created so many enemies,
it wUl be said, without great provocation.' This per
haps consisted in a certain haughty and repulsive
address, pr in his coarse and unaccommodating man
ners, which out of the cfrcle of his own family
were undoubtedly of a kind to give frequent offence*
Through his lofty estimate of himself, also, he spoke
of his own character and that of others with uncofll-
oion freedom. He once asserted, as we learn from
Whiston, that * when he himself should be dead,
Wasse would be the most leamed man in England,'^
He used to take off his hat to the younger students,
but would never do it to the feUows of his coUege ; oh-
* In this proud self-estimate, Bentley does not stand alone t
Messieurs Gauhnin, Saumaise, et Maussac se rencontram vn
jour a la Bibliotkeque Royals, le premier dit aux deux. auttCSt
'Je pense que nous pourrions Men tous trois tenir titeAtoifsk?
savans del' Europe.' A quoi M.de Saumaise repondit, 'JoigfteS
^ tout ce qjf'ily a de savans au monde, et vous el M. de MaussaCt
je vous tietidrai tete moi seul.'

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. ?01
serving, that ' the young ones might come to some
thing, but for the others, they could never be good
for any thing.'
Of his phUological powers, his Letter on Hesychius,
in Alberti's edition, is a striking monument. It is not
perhaps generaUy known, that to his earnest entrea
ties and zealous patronage the pubUc owe the im
provements in the second edition of Newton's ' Prin
cipia,' printed at Cambridge in 1713. Is enim (says
Professor Cotes, at the end of his preface to that work)
cum a longo tempore cekberrimi auctoris amicitid
intimd* frueretur (qud etiam apud post eros censeri
non minoris cestimat quhm propriis scriptis, quee li-
terato orbi in deliciis sunt, inclarescere) amici simul
famce et scientiarum incremento consuluit. Itaque,
cilm exemplaria prioris editionis rarissima admodum
et immani pretio coemenda superessent, suasit ille
crebris efflagitationibus et tantiim non abjurgando
perpulit denique virum prcestantissimum, ncc modes-
tid minus quhm eruditione summd insignem, ut no-
vam hanc operis editionem per omnia elimatam de-
^ud et egregiis insiiper accessionibus ditatam, suis
sumptibus et auspiciis prodire pateretur.
* The Epitaph, which he wrote upon Sir Isaac Newtwon, k
here subjoined : Hic quiescunt
ossa et pulvis
IsAACi Newtoni.
Si quesns quis et qualis illefuerit,
abi :
Qui ex ipso nomine reliqua novisti,
Siste paulisper,
Et mortale illud Philosophies Numen
Grata mente venerare.
VOL. V. 2d

40^ DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
His valuable inedited Critical Correspondence was
suniptUously printed in 1807 by the Rev. Dr. Charles
Burney, with most honourable munificence, for pri
vate distribution, under the title of « R. Bentleii et
Doctorum Virorum Epistolce, partim mutucs. Ac-
cedit Richardi Dawesii ad Joannem Taylorum Episr
tola singularis.' In this interesting volume, Graerius
is Bentley's principal correspondent.
Before Mr. Cumberland's death he disposed of se-
V^eral volumes of Greek and Latin classics, which had
belonged to his grandfather, and contained his MSS.
tiotes upon thefr margins. These, including a copy
of his Aristophanes, and a coUation of two ancient
MSS. of Aulus GelUus, to the number of eighty four
volumes, were purchased by the Trustees of the
British Museum for 400/.^ and form a valuable though
smaU portion of that inestimable coUection.

EXTRACTS.
Prom the ^ Remarks upon Collins on Freethinking.*
' Yes ! but poor Dr. MiU has stUl more to answer
for, and meets with a sorry recompence for his long
labour of thfrty years. For if we are to beUeve not
only this wise author, but a wiser Dpctor of your
own, he was labouring aU that whUe to prove the
text of Scriptm-e precarious ; having scraped together
such an immense coUection of various readings, as
amount in the whole, by a late author's computation,
to above thirty thousand. Now this is a matter of
some consequence, and wiU weU deserve a few re-
flexions :

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 403
* I am forced to confess with grief, that several
weU^meaning priests, of greater zeal than knowledgCj
have often by thefr own false alarms and panics both
frighted others of thefr own side, and given ad
vantage to their enemies. What an uproar once was
there, as if aU were ruined and undone, when Capel-
lus wrote one book against the antiquity of the
Hebrew points, and another for various lections in
the Hebrew text itself? And yet time and experi-
.ence has cured them of those imaginary fears ; and
the great author in his grave has now that honour
universally, which the few only of his own age paid
him, when aUve. ,
' The case is, and wiU be, the same with your
leamed countryman Dr. MUl; whose friendship,
whUe I staid at Oxford, and memory wiU be ever
dear to me. For what is it, that your Whitbjnus so
inveighs and exclaims at ? " The Doctor's labours,"
says he, " make the whole text precarious ; and ex
pose both the reformation to the Papists, and reUgion
itself to the Atheists." God forbid! we wUl stiU hop6
better things. For, surely, those various readings
existed before m the several exemplars ; Dr. MiU did
not make and coin them, he only exhibited them to
our view. If religion therefore was true before,
though such various readings were in being, it wUI
be as true, and consequently as safe stUl, though
every body sees thein. Depend upon it ; no truth,
no matter of fact fafrly laid open, can ever subvert
true reUgion.
' The thirty thousand various lections are aUowed^
then,' and confessed ; and, if more copies yet are col
lated, the sum TviU stiU mount higher. And what
is the inference from this ? Why, one Gregory, here
2 n 2

404 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
quoted, infers " That no profane author whatever has
suffered so much by the hand of time as the New
Testament has done," Now if this shaU be found
utterly false, and if the scriptural text has no more
variations than what must necessarily have happened
from the nature of things, and what are common and
in equal proportion in aU classics whatever, I hope
this panic wiU be removed, and the text be thou^t
as firm as before.
' If there had been but one Manuscript of the
Greek Testament at the restoration of learning about
two centuries ago, then we had had no various read
ings at all. And Avould the text be in a better con-;
dition then, than now we have thirty thousand? So
far from that, that in the best single copy extant we;
should have had hundreds of faults, and some omis
sions irreparable : beside that the suspicions of fraud
and foul play would have been increased immensely. \
' It is good, therefore, you wiU aUow, to have more
anchors than one ; and another MS. to join with the
first would give more authority, as weU as security.
Now choose that second where you wiU, there shall
be a thousand variations from the first, and yet half
or more of the faults shaU stUl remain in them both.
* A third therefore, and so a fourth, and stiU on,
are desirable ; that, by a joint and mutual help, aU
the faults may be amended: some copy preserving
the true reading in one place, and some in another,
And yet the more copies you caU to assistance, the
more do the various readings multiply upon you;
every copy having it's pecuUar sUps, though in a
principal passage or two it do singular service. And
this is fact, not only in the New Testament, but hi
jiU ancient books whatever. 8

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 405
' * It is a good Providence and a great blessing, that
«o many Manuscripts of the New Testament are stiU
among us ; some procured from Egypt, others from
Asia, others found in the Western Churches. For
the very distances of places, as weU as numbers of
the books, demonstrate that there could be no coUu-
sion, no altering nor interpolating one copy by
another, nor aU by any of them.
' In profane authors (as they are caUed) whereof
one MS. only had the luck to be preserved, as Vel-
leius Paterculus among the Latins and Hesychius
among the Greeks, the faults of the scribes are found
so numerous, and the defects so beyond aU redress,
notwithstanding the pains of the leamedest and
acutest critics for two whole centuries, those books
stUl are and are Uke to continue a mere heap of
errors. On the contrary, where the copies of any
author are numerous, though the various readings
always increase in proportion, there the text by an
accurate coUation of them made by skilful and judi
cious hands is ever the more correct, and comes
nearer to the true words of the author.
' Were the very originals of ancient books stiU in
being, those alone woidd supersede the use of aU
other copies : but since that was impossible from the
nature of things, since time and casualties must con
sume and devour aU, the subsidiary help is from the
various transcripts conveyed down to us, when ex
amined and compared together.
' Terence is now in one of the best conditions
of any of the classic writers. The oldest and best
oopy of him is now in the Vatican Library, which
comes nearest to the poet's own hand : but even that
has hundreds of errors, most of which may he

406 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
ir)iended out of other exemplars, that are otherwise
more recent and of inferior value. I myself have
coUated several, and do affirm that I have seen
twenty thousand various lections in that Uttle au..
thor, not nearly so big as the whole New Testament ;
and am morally sure, that if half the number of
Manuscripts were coUated for Terence with that
niceness and minuteness which has been used in
twice as many for the New Testament, the number
of the variations would amount to above fifty thou
sand. ' In the Manuscripts of the New Testament, the
variations have been noted with a religious, not to
say superstitious, exactness. Every difference in spel*
Ung, in the smaUest particle or article of speech, in
the very order or coUocation of words without real
change, hats been studiously registered. Nor has the
text only been ransacked, but aU the Ancient Ver
sions, the Latin Vulgate, ItaUc, Syriac^ iEthiopici
Arabic, Coptic, Armenian, Gothic, and Saxon; nor
these only, but aU the dispersed citations of the
Greek and Latin Fathers in a course of five hundred
years. What wonder then, if with aU this scrupuh
Ous search in every hole and comer, the varieties rise
to thfrty thousand; when in all ancient books of
the same bulk, wh^eof the MSS. are numerous, Ihe
variations are as many or more ; and yet no versions
to sweU the reckoning ?
' The editors of profane authors do not use to
trouble thefr readers, or risk thefr own reputation,
by ian uselfess Ust of every smaU sUp committed by a
lazy or ignorant scribe. What is thought commend- ^
able in an edition of Scripture, and has the name of
fafrness and fideUty, woiddl in them be deemed im-

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY- +07
pertiiienee and trifling. Hence the resteer not versed
in ancient MSS. is deceived into an opinion, that
there were no more variations in the copies, than
what the editor has communicated. Whereas, if the
like scrupulousness was observed in registering thp
smaUest changes in profane authors, as is aUowed,
n3,y required in sacred, the now fprrnidable number
of thirty thousand would appear a very trifle.
' It is manifest, that books in verse are not nearly
so obnoxious to variations as thpse in prose : the trau-
scriber, if he is not whoUy ignorant and stupid, being
guided by the measures, and hindered frpm such al-'
terations, as do not faU in with the laws of numbers.
And yet, even in poets, the variations are sp very
many, as can hardly be conceived without use ^nd
experience. In the late edition pf TibuUus by the
learned Mr. Broukhuise, you have a register of vari
ous lections in the close of that book ; where yon
may see, at the first view, that they ^re as many as
the lines. The same is visible in Plautus set out by
Parens. I myself, during my travels, have had the
opportunity to examine several MSS. of the ppet
ManUius ; and can assure you, that the variations I
have met with are twice as many as aU the Unes of
the book. Our discourser here has quoted nine verses
out of it, p. 151, in which, though one ofthe easiest
places, I can show him fourteen various lections.
Add likewise, that the MSS. here used were few in
comparison; and then do you imagine, what the
lections would amount to, if ten times as many (the
case of Dr. MUl) were accurately examined. And
yet in thege and aU other books the text is not made
more precarious on that account, but more certain
and authentic. ,So that if I may advise you, whe©

40S DR. RICHARD BENTLEY;
you hear more of this scarecrow of thfrty thousandJ^
be neither astonished at the sum, nor in any pain fot
the text.
' It is plain to me that your learned Whitbyus, in
his invective against my dead friend, was suddenly
surprised with a panic ; and, under his deep concern
for the text, did not reflect at all what that word
really means. The present text was first settled
almost two hundred years ago out of several MSS.
by Robert Stephens, a printer and boOkseUer at Paris;
whose beautiful and (generaUy speaking) accurate
edition has been ever since counted the standard,
and foUowed by aU the rest. Now this specific text
in your Doctor's notion seems taken for the Sacred
Original in every word and syUable ; and, if the con
ceit is but spread and propagated, within a few years
that printer's infaUibUity wiU be as zealously main
tained as an EvangeUst's or Apostle's.
' Dr. MiU, were he alive, would confess to your
Doctor, that this text fixed by a printer is sometimes
by the various readings rendered uncertain, nay, is
proved certainly wrong. But then he would subjoin,
that the real text of the Sacred Writers does not now
(since the originals have been so long lost) Ue in any
single MS. or edition, but is dispersed in them aU.
It is competently exact indeed, even in the worst
MS. now extant : nor is one article of faith, or moral
precept, either perverted or lost in them; choose as
awkwardly as you can, choose the worst by design
out of the whole lump of readings. But the lesser
matters of diction, and among several synonymous
expressions the very words of the writer, must be
found out by the same industry and sagacity that is
used in other books ; must not be risked upon th©

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 409
credit of any particular MS. or edition, but be sought,
acknowledged, and chaUenged wherever they are
met with.'
And again, from the Second Part :
• WhUe I was looking on his passage of Zosimus
(whom, out of his profound skiU in Greek, he twice
writes Zozimus) I had Uke to have dropt a memor
able paragraph which shows his great affection to
your clergy. He complains of " the great charge of
maintaining such numbers of ecclesiastics, as a great
evU to society, and a burthen never felt on any other
occasion." Now how shaU I accost him ; as a grand
historian, or shrewd poUtician? For I know he is
above the low considerations of divine worship, truth,
pidy, salvation, and immortaUty. But what news
does he teU us ? That the supporting of priests is a
burthen unknown before Christianity ? Had he read
over even those authors alone, with whose twice-
borrowed scraps he has fiUed his margin, he would
have learnt that both in Greece and Italy, before
our Saviour's birth, the Heathen priests were more in
number, higher in dignity, and better provided with
endowments, salaries, and immunities, than now you
are in England. The Uke was before in Egypt, and
in every other country, where humanity and letters
had any footing. Many of his authors, whom he
dtes as free-thinkers, were priests themselves ; Jose-
phus, Plutarch, Cato, Cicero, &c. and the last-named
was made so after his consulate, the highest post of
honour and power then in the universe : nay (to
make our author quite lay him aside for ever) he had
the indeUble character too; for, being once made a
priest, a priest he was -to be for life. But what an

410 DR. RICHARD RENTLEy,
adversary am I writing against, wholly ignorant of
common history ? And his poUtics are as low too,
that would extirpate the whole order of your Clergy ;
and so bring your country to the ignorance of the
savages ; to a worse condition than your old ancestors
were in, while they had thefr Bards and their Druids.
For it ever was and ever wiU be true, in aU nations,
under aU manners and customs, ' No priesthood, no
letters, no humanity;' and reciprocaUy again, ' society,
laws, government, learning, a priesthood.' What then
would our thoughtless thinker be at? Sink the order
of the present Clergy to save charges to the public,
and pay the same or double to maintain as many for
Epicurus, or Jupiter, or Baal: for some order of
priests there wUl be. Though even take him in his
free-thinking capacity, he can never conceive nor
wish a priesthood either quieter for him, or cheaper,
than that of the present Church of England. Of
your quietness himself is a convincing proof, who has
written this outrageous book, and has met with no
punishment nor prosecution. And for the cheapness,
that appeared lately in one of your parUaments, when
the accounts exhibited showed that six thousand of
your clergy, the greater part of your whole number,
had at a middle rate one with another not fifty pounds
a year ! A poor emolument for so long, so laborious,
so expensive an education, as must qualify them for
Holy Orders. WhUe I resided at Oxford, and saw
such a conflux of youth to their annual admissions, I
have often studied and admfred, why their parents
would under such mean encouragements design their
sons for the church; and those the most towardly
and capable and select geniuses among their phUdren,
who must needs have emerged in a secular life. I

DR. RICHARD BENTLEY. HI
congratulated, indeed, the feUcity of your estabUsh
ment, which attracted the choice youth of your nation
for such very low pay ; but my wonder was at the
parents, who generaUy have interest, maintenance,
and wealth the first thing in thefr view. TUl at last
one of your state-lotteries ceased my astonishment.
For as in that, a few gUttering prizes, one thousand,
five thousand, ten thousand pounds among an infi
nity of blanks drew troops of adventurers, who if
the whole ftmd had been equaUy ticketed, would
never have come in ; so a few shining dignities in
your church, prebends, deaneries, bishoprics are the
pious fraud, that induces and decoys the parents to
risk their chUd's fortune in it. Every one hopes
his own wUl get some great prize in the church, and
never reflects on the thousands of blanks in poor
country-Uvings. And if a foreigner may teU you his
mind, from what he sees at home, it is this part of
your estabUshment that makes your Clergy excel
ours. Do but once level aU your preferments, and
you wUl soon be as level in your leaming. For, in
stead of the flower of the EngUsh youth, you wUl
have only the refuse sent to your academies; and
those, too, cramped and crippled in their studies for
want of aim and emulation. So that if your' free
thinkers had any poUtics, instead of suppressing your
whole order, they should make you aU alike ; or, if
that cannot be done, make your preferments a very
lottery in the whole simUitude. Let your church-
dignities be pure chance-prizes, without regard to
abiUties, or morals, or letters : as a journeyman (I
think) in that state-bttery was the favourite chUd of
fortune.'

4.12 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
On the Death of Prince George of Denmark.
Ad Reginam.
' AcciPE communis solatia puAlica luctits,
Anna, nee alloquiis dulcibus obde fores.
Namque ui Marlburii percussif nuncius aures,
Dum tibi per Flandrasfuhninat ense plagas,
Oppetiisse tv.ce, Regina, animesque torique
Partidpem, ac morbo succubuisse gravi .-
" Non," ait, " ardentem lacrymis restinguere curam
" Nunc opus, aut querulis perdere verba modis,
" Pro lacrymis, refluanf hostili sanguine rivi :
" Pro qu£stu reboent tympana mixta tubis'* *
Dixit : et attoniti dirdformidine Galli
Brtcxellis trepides terga dederefitgees
Objectoque alii tentantesfklmine Martem
De Scaldi in Stygias prcecipitantur aquas.*
AllOCVTIO AD Setvlcrum.
* Delubra regum, prisca Manium domus,
Suprema Britonum prindpum palatia,
Honore dio plena, plena numine;
Laxate claustra,ferreosque liminis
Reserate postes : Georgii Magni sacer
Portatur ad vos luguiri pompd cinis,
Uxoris Annjb atque Asbiijb. lacrymis madens.
Eheu ! quis hostis Gallus, aut quis impiee
Romee tyrannus cocdnatus non tuo

* This will remind some readers of tbe Marquis of Montrose'i
lines, inscribed with the point of his sword to the memory of
Charles I. :
* Great, Good, and Just, could I but rate
My griefs and thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep tbe world to such a strain.
That it should deluge once again.
But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briar eus' hands than Argus' eyes,
I'll sing thy obsequies with trumpet-sounds.
And write thy epitaph in blood and wounds'

PR. RICHARD BENTLEY. 41»
Dolore doleat, Anna, nonfenti affieat ?
Huic 6 quietas intimis penetralibus
Parate sedes ; quh {nefas) tot liberum
Jacent acerbo raptafato corpora : ,
Preesertim ubi, usque vere perpetuo virens
Cari Gloverni foret urna. Hicponite:
Hic pcene redeat vivus ossibus calor,
Sensuque tacito pulvis ipse gaudeat,'
Ad NoBiussiMVM Carolvm Halivaxix. CoMiTSM^
' Carole, si tibi adhuc collegi cura vetusti.
Quod tamen asddue nascitur usque novum ;
Si placuit nostra nitidusjam pumice Flaccus,
Quodque sibi vates dixerat " usque recens ; "
Gratia si veteris tibi pectore vivit amici —
Unamfer multis eyffidosus opem :
Sume, preeor, citharam nimium nimiumque tacentent,
Verbaque cum plectra fortiajunge gravi.
Effer, age, Heroem, stellantique insere Olympo;
Dircesusque iterum nubila tranet olor.
Nos etenim viles, corvi picceque, poetce
Vix pennas madidd {turpe) levamus humo*

English Verses: t
In answer to Titley's Imit. of Horace, Od. III. 2.
' He that would great in science grow,* &c.
' Who strives to mount Parnassus' hill.
And thence poetic laurels bring.
Must first acquire due force and skill.
Must fly with swan's or eagle's wing.

* Who, in tbe early part of his life, had been Fellow of Col
lege, Cambridge.
+ These verses were so much admired by Johnson, that he
once repeated them from memory. Truth and vigour, in this
instance, give a value to poetry, which it would not receive
from elegance and fancy.

414 DR. RICHARD BENTLEY.
Who Nature's treasures would explore.
Her mysteries and arcana know.
Must high as lofty Newton soar,
"Must stoop as delving Woodward low.
W^ho studies ancient laws and rites.
Tongues, arts, and arms, and history,
Must drudge like Selden days and nights.
And in the endless labour die.'
Who travels in religious jarfs.
Truth mix'd with error, shade with rays,
Like Whiston wanting pyx or stars.
In ocean wide or sinks or strays.
But grant, our hero's hope long toil
And comprehensive genius crown —
All sciences, all arts his spoil —
Yet what reward, or what renown ?
Envy, innate in vulgar souls.
Envy steps in, and stops his rise;
Envy with poison'd tarnish fouls
His lustre, and his worth decries.
He lives inglorious, or in want.
To college and old books confined :
Instead of learn'd he's call'd pedant ;
Dunces advanced, he's left behind —
Yet left content, a genuine Stoic he.
Great without patron, rich without South Sea.

415

ALEXANDER POPE.

[1688—1744.]

Alexander pope, the 'Poet of Reason'
and the ' Prince of Rhyme,' was born in London
June 8, 1688. For an account of his famUy, we are
indebted to the satfres written against him, which
drew from hun in answer the foUowing short gene
alogy: Alexander Pope, his father, was of a gentleman's
famUy in Oxfordshire ; the head of which was the
Earl of Downe in Ireland, whose sole hefress married
the Earl of Lindsey. His mother was Editha, the
daughter of WUliam Turner, Esq. of York. She
had three brothers ; one of whom was kUled, another
died in the service of King Charles I., and the eldest
foUowing his fortune, and becoming a general officer
in Spain, left her what estate remained after the
sequestrations and forfeitures of her famUy, which
(as well as that of her husband) was of the Romish
reUgion. He was taught to read at a very early age by an
aunt, and he acqufred for himself the art of writing",
by copying printed books with great exactness. At
eight years of age he was put under the tuition of
one Tavemer, a Roman CathoUc priest, who in-
3

416 ALEXANDER POPE.
structed him in the rudiments of the Latin and
Greek tongues. These elements of classical Uterature
he imbibed with the utmost facUity, and on first
seeing the poets^he discovered at once both the pecu
liar bent of his incUnation, and the exceUency of hig
genius. About this time, accidentaUy meeting with OgUby's
translation of Homer, he was so much struck with
the force of the story that, notwithstanding the insi
pidity of the versification, it became his favourite
book. The Ovid of Sandys feU next in his way;
and it is said, that from the delight these poor ver
sions gave him, ' he spoke of the latter in particular
with pleasure and praise aU his life afterward.'
From his private tutor he was sent to a Popish
seminairy at Twyford near Winchester, whence he
was removed to a school at Hyde Park Comer,
He was now about ten years old, and being carried
sometimes to the play-house, was induced by the
sight of theatrical representations to work the chief
events of Homer into a kind of play, made up of a
number of speeches from O^by's translation con?
nected by verses of his own. This piece he per
suaded the upper boys to act ; the master's gardener
representing the character of Ajax, and the whole
company attiring themselves after the prints of his
favourite author.
In the mean time, he was so unfortunate as to
lose, under his two last teachers, what he had ac
qufred from the first. In this condition, at twelve
years of age, he retired with his parents to Binfield
in Windsor Forest, where his father had provided a
convenient residence ; and was there put, it is said,
under another priest for a few months, but with littl?

ALEXANDER POPE. -^17
advantage : upon which, he resolved to become his
own master. This country-retreat suited his melan
choly and ^ reflective temper; and he now wrote the
' Ode on Solitude,' his first-printed poem, of which
the principal characteristics are coirect versification
and neat expression. Here, too, he sat down to peruse
the writings of Waller, Spenser, and Dryden ; but
on the first view of Dryden he abandoned the rest,
and was never easy, indeed, tUl he had persuaded a
friend to take him to a coffee-house frequented by
that Ulustrious author.* His works he placed before
his eyes, as a model ; and copying not only his har^
monious numbers but even the very turns of his
periods, was eventuaUy enabled to give • a pecuUar
sweetness and harmony to EngUsh rhyme, which it
would indeed be idle to expect to see surpassed.
His poetical reading was always accompanied with
attempts at imitation, or translation. In the latter,
he quickly attained singular eminence ; his versions
of the first book of the Thebais of Statius, and of
the epistle of Sappho to Phaon, and Dryope and
Pomona from Ovid made at the age of fourteen, are
unrivaUed. His primary object was, undoubtedly, to
be a poet ; and with this his father accidentally con
curred, by obUging him frequently to revise his per
formances ; after which he would say, " These are
good rhymes."
* This must have been not long before Dryden's death, which
happened in 1791 ; so that Pope was personally unknown to
him, 3 misfortune which ,he laments in the pathetic words,
" Virgilium tantiim vidi," He never mentioned him afterward,
without a kind of rapturous veneration. Who does not wish,
that Dryden could have known the value of the homage thus
paid to him ?
VOL. V. 2 E

418 ALEXANDER POPE.
Binfield being near Easthamstead, where Sfr WU
Uam TrumbuU then resided, he was introduced , to
the acquaintance of that gentleman; who struck with
admiration of his genius, his good sense, and his cor
red and regular manners, readUy admitted him to a
share of his friendship.
In the mean time, the young bard was constantly
employed in the improving of his poetical talents.
At fourteen, he had composed several elegant .pieces ;
and at fifteen he had made himself famUiar to a cer
tain extent with the two leamed languages, to which
he soon afterward added French and ItaUan.
Some seeds of vanity, it has been observed, are
almost necessary ingredients in the composition of a
poet. Pope now thought himself capable of under
taking an epic poem. In this spirit he set about
writing his, ' Alcander.' He had dther the sense
however, or the modesty, to keep it in his study till
it was burnt by the advice of Atterbury ; and in his
riper years he spoke of it with a degree of ingenuous
ness, which more than atoned for the forwardness
and the faUure of the attempt.* " I confess," says he,
" there was a time, when I was in love with myself;
and my first productions were the chUdren of self-
love upon innocence. I had made an epic poem, and
panegyrics upon all the prmces ; and I thought myself
the greatest genius that ever was. I cannot but re
gret these deUghtful visions of my childhood, which,
Uke the fine colours we see when our eyes are
shut, are vanished for ever." He essayed Ukewise a
comedy, upon a subject not now known, and a
* Some of it's extravagances are produced, in the 'Arto^
Sinking in Poetry,' under the signature of ' Anonymous.*

ALEXANDER POPE. 419
tragedy founded on the legend of St. Genevieve :
but he destroyed them with most of his puerile pro
ductions. . His version of Cicero's ' Cato Major' ap
pears to have shared the same fate.
He was, also, tempted by Dryden's 'Fables' to
try his skiU in modernising from Chaucer his
' January and May,' and the ' Prologue of the Wife
of Bath ; ' and about the same time, Ukewise, he pro
fessed to have written his poenLon ' SUence,' in imi
tation of Rochester's ' Nothing.' He had now formed
his versification, assisted by the rich melodies of
Dryden ; and the smoothness of his numbers sur
passed the original.
In the foUowing year, 1704, he entered upon a
task more suited to his age. This was his ' Pas
torals,' * which procured for him the acquaintance of
some of the most eminent wits of the time. He com
municated them first to Mr. Wycherley, who was
highly pleased with them ; and he subsequently sent
a copy to Mr. Walsh, f who observing that his chief
talent lay not so much in striking out new thoughts
of his own, as improving those which he borrowed
from the ancients, suggested to him, that ' there was
* First printed, in a volume of Tonson's Miscellanies, in
1709. Melodiously tuneful, and brilliantly polished, these
compositions display a great want of original observation, and
much puerile artificialness of sentiment. In the same volume
appeared Ambrose Philips' ' Pastorals,' which were commended
in the Spectator to a degree exciting Pope's very irritable
jealousy. He printed in the Guardian, No. 40, in conse-
quenc4 an ironical comparison ofthe rival compositions; and
incited Gay to write his ' Shepherd's Week ' in mockery of
Philips, who never forgave him.
t By Dryden pronounced • the best English Critic of his
. time.'
2 E 2

420 ALEXANDER POPE.
CHie way left open for him in which to outstrip his
predecessors, and that was correctness.' This advice
was not lost : Pope received it with gratitude, and
observed it with punctuaUty.*
* The following letter to this friendly Aristarchus is inserted,
as a specimen: Oct. 22, 1708.
" After the thoughts I have already sent you on the subject
of English versification, you desire my opinion as to some farther
particulars. There are indeed certain niceties,^ which though
not much observed even by correct versifiers, I cannot but think
deserve to be better regarded.
1 . It is not enough that nothing offends the ear, but a good
poet will adapt the very sounds,, as well as words, to the thing
he treats of. So that there is (if one may express it so) a stile
of sound : as ia describing a gliding stream, the numbers shall
run easy and flowing ; in describing a rough torrent or deluge,,
sonorous and swelling ; and so of the rest. This is evident every
where in Homer and, Virgil, and no where else, that I know of,,
to any observable degree. The following examples will make
this plain, which I have taken from Vida :
Molle viam tacito I'apsu per leevia radit.
Incedit tardo molimine subsidendo,
Luctetntes ventos, tempestatesque sonoras.
Immenso cum prcecipitans ruit oeeano Nox.
— *  Telum imbelle sine ictu
Conjidt, ToUe moras; cape saxa manu, cape robora, paston
Ferte dfifammas, date tela, repellite pestem.
This, I think, is what very few observe in practice, and is un
doubtedly of wonderful force in imprinting the image on the
reader: we have one excellent example of it in our language,
Mr. Dryden's Ode on St. Caecilia's Day, entitled • Alexander's
Feast.' 2. Every nice ear must (I believe)^ have observed^ that in any
smooth English verse often syllables, there is naturally a pause
at the fourth, fifth, or sixth syllable. It is upon these the ear
rests, and upon the judicious change ^nd management lOf which
depends tbe variety of versification. For example,

ALEXANDER POPE. 421
This year, also, he wrote the first part of his
* Windsor Forest ; ' though the whole was not pub-
At the fifth.
Where'er thy navy j spreads her canvass wings.
At .the fourth.
Homage to thee { and peace to all she brings.
At the sixth.Like tracts of leverets | in morning snow.
' Now I fancy, that to preserve an exact harmony and variety,
the pause at the fourth or sixth should not be continued above
three lines togetber, without the interposition of another; else
it will be apt to weary the ear with one continued tqne, at least
it does mine : that at the fifth runs quicker, and carriegnot quite
so dead a weight, so tires not so much, though it be ^continued
longer. 3. Another nicety is in relation to expletives, whether words
or syllables, which are made use of purely to supply a vacancy.
Do before verbs plural is absolutely such ; and it is not impro
bable but future refiners may explojde did and does in the same
manner, which are almost always used for the sake of rhyme.
The same cause has occasioned the promiscuous use of ypu and
thou to the same person, which can never sound so graceful as
either one or the other.
4. I would also object to the irruption of Alexandrine verses,
of twelve syllables ; which I think, should never be allowed,
but when some remarkable beauty or propriety in them atones
for the liberty : Mr. Dryden has been too free of these, especi
ally in his latter works. I am of the same opinion, as to triple
rhymes. 5. I could equally object to the repetition pf the same rhymes
within four or six lines of each other, as tiresome to the ear
through their monotony.
6. Monosyllable lines, unless very artfully managed, are stiff,
or languishing; but may be beautiful to express melancholy,
slowness, or labour.
7. To come to the hiatus, or gap between two \i'ords, which
is. caused by two vAwels opening on each other, upon which you
desire me to be particular; I think the rule in this case is either
to use the caesura, or admit the hiatus, just as the ear is least
shocked by either: fi>r the caesura sometimes ofiends the ear

422 ALEXANDER POPE.
Ushed tiU 1710, when it appeared with a dedication
to Lord Lansdowne, whom he mentions as one of his
earUest acquaintance.*
more than the hiatus itself, and our language is naturally over
charged with consonants: as for example, if in this verse.
The old have interest ever in their eye ;
we shall say, to avoid the hiatus.
But th' old have interest.
The hiatus, which has the worst effect, is when one word ends
with tbe same vowel that begins the following ; and next to this,
those vowels whose sounds come nearest each other, are most to
be avoided. O, A, or U,' will bear a more full and graceful
sound than E, I, or Y. I know, some people will think these
observations trivial, and therefore I am glad to corroborate them
by some great authorities, which I have met with in TuUy and
Quintilian. In the fourth book of Rhetoric to Herennius, are
these words : Fugiemus crebras vocalium concussiones, quee vastam
atque hiantem reddunt orationem ; ut hoc est, Baccce ceneceama-
nissimce impendebant. And Quintilian, ix. 4. Vocalium- con-
cursus . dim accidit. Mat et intersistit et quasi labor at. ¦oratio.
Pessime longes, quce easdem inter se literas committunt, sonabunt :
prcBcipuus tamen erit hiatus earum, quee catio aut patulo ore effe-
runtur. E plenior litera est, I angustior. But he goes on to re
prove the excess, on tbe other hand, of being too solicitous in
this matter, and says admirably, Nescio an negligentia'inhoc,
an solidtudo sit pejor. So, likewise, TuUy (Orat. ad Brut.)
Theopompum reprehendunt, quod eas literas tanto operefugerit,
etsi idem magister ejus Socrates : which last author, as Turnebus
on Quintilian observes, has hardly one hiatus in aU his works.
Quintilian tells us, that TuUy and Demosthenes did not much
Observe this nicety, though. Tully himself says in his .Orator,
Crebra ista vocum concursio, quam magna ex parte vitiosamfugit
Demosthenes. If I am not mistaken, Malherbe of all tbe moderns
has been the most scrupulous in this point ; and I think Menage
in bis observations upon him says, ' be has not one in his poems.".
To conclude, I believe the hiatus should be avoided with more
care in poetry than in oratory ; and I would constantly try to
prevent it, unless where the cutting it'off is more prejudicial 'o
the sound than the hiatus itself. I am, &c."
* To this illustrious name he adds those of Bolingbroke, Gon-

ALEXANDER POPE. 423
No part of his Ufe is more interesting than that of
his conduct in ciUtivating friendships, especially with
his brother-pqpts. At the age of eighteen, he had
risen so high in the esteero of Wycherley, that he
thought him capable of preparing a new edition of
his poems, and Pope executed the task with equal
freedom and propriety. But the faults proved too
numerous for the self-love of thefr author. With the
irritability of a poet, and the jealousy of an old man,
he construed the plain-deaUng of his youthful correc
tion into want of respect, and dropped not only the
design of pubUshing, but aU intercourse also with the
intended editor.
This ungenerous treatment was resented by Pope ;
and though Wycherley was subsequently prevaUed
upon, through the mediation of a common friend, to
resume the correspondence, it never proceeded farther
than bare complaisance. Some time however after
the death of the latter, his poems being repubUshed
by a mercenary hand in 1728, Pope in the foUowing
year printed several letters, which had passed be
tween them, in vindication of Wycherley's reputa-f
tion. Throughout the whole indeed of this trying affafr,
his conduct was greatly above his years ; but, young
as he was, his talents were now beginning to ripen
into fuU maturity. ' This appeared conspicuously in
his ' Essay on Criticism ; ' which, though originaUy
written before he was twenty years of age, placed
him in the first rank of EngUsh pods.* The
greve, Garth, Swift, Atterbury, Talbot, Somers, and Sheffield, as
persons with whom he was not only conversant, but popular, at
sixteen or seventeen years of age !
* It was translated into French by Hamilton, by Robotham,

424 ALEXANDER POPE.
pubUc were naturaUy amazed to find' in one so yoiing
such a knowledge of the world, combined with so
and by the Abbe Resnel ; and into Latin by Kirkpatrick, the
author of the ' Sea- Piece,' and by Smart.
For the sake of subjoining an Extract or two from this poem,
with a sptjcimen of Smart's translation, I attach the character of
his above-named useful ally Mr. Walsh, as drawn near it's con
clusion :
• Such late was Walsh, the Muse's judge and friebd,
Who justly knew to blame or to commend;
To failings mUd, but zealous for desert :
The clearest head, and the sincerest heart.
This humble praise, lamented shade ! receive :
This praise, at leasts a grateful Muse may give ;
The Muse, whose early voice you taught to sing,
Prescribed her :flights, and pruned her tmder wing,' .&C.
In an earlier jpart of the work, with a happy strain of exem'-
plificatjon, he had spoken of such as
>— ' equal syllables alone require.
Though oft the ear the open vowels tire.
While expletives their feeble aid do join.
And ten low words 6ft creep in one dull line;
While they ring round the same unvaried chimfes.
With sure return of stUl expected rhymes.
Where'er you find the " the cooling western breeze,"
In the next line it whispers " through the trees : "
If Crystal streams " with pleasing murmurs creep,"
The reader's threaten'd, not in vain, with «« sleepi"
Thfen at the last, and only couplet fraught ¦
With some unmeaning thing they call ' a iboitght,'
A needless Alexandrine ends the song.
That like a wounded snake drags it's slow length along.'
* » * *
' 'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence;
The sound must seem an echo to the sense.
Soft'is the straili when Zephyr gently blows,
Aild'the Srabttlb stream in smoother numbers flows;
But when loud billows lash the sounding Shore,
T*he hoarse rough verSe should like the torrent roar.

ALEXANDER POPE. 425
much maturity of judgement, extent of reading, and
When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, .
The line too labours, and the words move slow :
Not so, when swift CamUla scours the plain.
Flees o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main.
Hear how Timotheus' * various lays surprise.
And bid alternate passions fall and rise :
While, at each change, the son of Lybian Jove
Now burns with glory, and then melts with love :
Now fierce bis eyes with sparkling fury glow.
Now sighs steal out and tears begin to &ow !
Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found.
And the world's victor stood subdued by sound.'
His solitm criticis semper par syllaba cordi est,
Vasta etd usque omnis pateat vocalis hiatu :
Expletivaque scepe suas quoque suppetias dent,
Ac versum unum oneret levium heu ! decas en ! pigra vocum ;
Dum non mutato resonant male cymhala planctu,
Atque augur miser usque scio, quid ddnde sequatur.
Quicunque aspirat clementior aura Favoni,
Mox {nullus duUto) gracUes vibrantur aristae :
Rivulus ut moUi serpit per laevia lapsu.
Lector, non temere expedes post murmura somnos.
Tum demum, qua late extremum ad distichon ipsa,
Magnificum dne mente nihil, Sententia splendet,
Segnis Hypermeter, audin ? adest et claudicat, instar
Anguis saucia terga trahentis, prorepentisque.
Hi,SfC. * * * *
Non solum asperitas teneras cave verberet aures,
Sed vox qucsqne expressa tuce sit mentis imago,
Lene edat Zephyrus stispiria blanda, politis
Lcevius in numeris Idbatur Icevefuentum :
At reboat,furit, esstuat esmula Musa, sonoris
Littoribus dim rauca horrendiim impingitur unda,
Quando est saxum Ajax vastd vi volvere adorlus,
Tarde incedat versus, multumperque laborem :

*

See Dryden's ' Alexander's Feast, or the Power of Music'
5

426 ALEXANDER POPE.
feUcity of Ulustration, as are there. displayed;* "and
critics exercised thefr skUl in endeavouring to account
for it. The greatest geniuses in painting, as weU as
in poetry, they observed, seldom produced any of
thefr master-pieces before the age of thirty ; and that
Mr. Pope's genius displayed itself at an earUer period
was owing, it was suggested, to a happy conjunction
of cfrcumstances. From the debaucheries of women
and wine, the too frequent bane of hopeful youth,
Non ita sive Camilla citb salis esquora rasif,
Sive levis leviterqus terit nequefectit aristas.
Audin ? Timothei ccelestia carmina, menti
Dulcibus alloquiis varies suadentia motus !
Audin ? ut alternis Lybici Jovis inclyta prolesr
Nunc ardetfamam, solos nunc spirat amores ;
Lumina nunc vivis radiantia volvere fammis ;
Moxfurtim suspiria, mox effundere fletum !
Dum PerscB Grcedque pares sentire tumultus
Discunf, victricemque lyrani rex orbis adorat.
Again : ' But see each Muse in Leo's golden days
Starts from her trance, and trims her wither'd bays!
Rome's ancient genius o'er it's ruins spread,
Shakes off' tbe dust, and rears his reverend head.
Then Sculpture and ber Sister Arts revive,
Stones leap'd to form, and rocks began to live :
With sweeter notes each rising temple rung;
A Raphael painted, and a Vida sung :
Immortal Vida ! on whose honour'd brow
The poet's bays and critic's ivy grow ;
Cremona now shall ever boast thy name.
As next in place to Mantua, next in fame !
* It ought to be added, however, that many juvenUe inaccu
racies occur in this production, and that it has been rated far too
high as critical authority. It contains tbe attack upon the for
midable Dennis, who is said to have slighted the ' Pastorals;'
and provoked an open war between them, which was terminated
bnly by the decrepitude of the critic.

¦ ALEXANDER POPE. 4^7
he was fortunately guarded by the deUcacy of his
constitution, and the bad state of his health. The
sensual vices were too violent for his tender frame;
and temperance is, confessedly, of the greatest con
sequence in preserving each faculty of the mind in
it's fuU vigoiir. Even his mishapen figure is aUeged
to have been of use to him as a writer. It is re
marked by Lord Bacon, that ' whosoever has any
thing fixed in his person which induces, contempt,
has also a perpetual spur within to rescue and deUver
himself from it.' * EquaUy propitious to his studies,
in this part of his Ufe, was the circumstance of
possessing a moderate competency, abundantly sufii
cient to supply the small expenses which both by
constitution and by reflexion he requfred.
But even the merit of the ' Essay on Criticism '.
was surpassed by that of his ' Rape of the Lock,'
which made it's appearance in 1711.t The former
* " An Emperor of Germany, coming by chance on a Sunday
Jnto a church, found there a most mishapen priest, pesniporten-
tum natures, insomuch as the Emperor scorned and contemned
him. But when he heard him read these words in the service,
>' For it is be that hath made us, ¦ arid not we ourselves," the
Emperor checked his own proud thoughts, and made inquiry
into the quality and condition of the man ; and finding him on
examination to be most learned and devout, he made him Arch
bishop of Cologne, which place he did excellfently discharge."
(Fuller's ' Holy Staled III. 15, from William of Malmsbury,
II- 10)
f About this time, also, at the desire of Steele he composed
his Ode for St. CecUia's Day, inserted the Messiah (corrected
by the same friendly hand) in the Spectator, and wrote his
' Elegy^'on an Unfortunate Lady,' one of his most finished comr
positions, and almost the only one in which he bas aimed at the
high pathetic. It has too much of art and ornament, however,
for the expression of genuine feeling. Pope indeed, it has been
observed, if the simple natural ardent character be supposed

428 ALEXANDER POPE.
exceUed in the didactic stUe, for which he was peou!>
Uarly formed, a clear head and strong sense being
his characteristical quaUties : but it is the creative
power of fancy, which constitutes the pecuUar definir
tion of poetry; and therefore it is in the latter, thait
he principaUy appears a poet. The ' Rape of th6
Lock,' indeed, displays more imagination, than all
his other works put together.
This mock-heroic took it'S' birth from an incidental
quarrel between two noble CathoUcs, Lord Petre and
Mrs. Fermor, both friends of Mr. Pope. His Lord
ship, in a party of pleasure, had ventured to cut off
a favourite ' lock ' of the lady's hair. This, though
done in the way of gaUantry, was resented as a real
injury. Hence grew mutual animosities. Pope was
. requested, by a common friend (Mr. CaryU, Secretary
to James' Queen) to try the power of his muse upon
the occasion; under the idea, that ridicule would be
the Ukeliest means of extinguishing the spreading
•flame. The poet readUy complying with the pror*
posal, and the jundure requiring despatch, the first
design was complded in Less than a fortnight, and
produced upon the oBfended lady even more than the
proposed effect. Pleased to the highest degree with
the deUcacy of the compUment, she first communi
cated copies of it to her acquaintance, and subser
quently prevaUed upon the author to aUow U to
appear in print: he had the caution, however, to
withhold his name from the hasty sketch. B«t the
essential to the poet, set out with a most unpoetical character;
as even his friendships and early conneixions seem aU to have
been formed with some view of obtaining credit and dis
tinction. The subject of this elegy appears still involved i»
mystery.

ALEXANDER POPE. 429
universal applause, which it received, induced him
to enrich it with the machinery of the Sylphs, which
is wrought with exquisite skiU and beauty.* The
Cantos, in thefr new dress extended to five, came out
the foUowing year accompanied by a letter to Mrs.
Fermor. f
* To Addison's dissuasion of the intended addition Pope as
signed the mean motive of jealousy : but why must the advice
in this instance, necessarily have been insincere? Addison
admired the poem in it's original state as merum sal; and, per
haps, be bad but an imperfect view presented to him of the
meditated alteration.
\ A subsequent letter, addressed to the same lady, is here
subjoined, as a farther specimen of his epistolary stile:
" To Mrs. Arabella Fermor, cfter her Marriage.
" Madam,
" You are sensible, by this time, how much the tenderness
of one man of merit is to be preferred to the addresses of a
thousand ; and by this time the gentleman you have made choice
of is sensible, how great is the joy of having all those charms*
and good qualities, which have pleased so many, now applied to
please one only. It was but just, that the same virtues, which
gave you reputation, should give you happiness ; and I can wish
you no greater, than that you may reap it to as high a degree
as so much good-nature must give it to your husband.
" It may be expected, perhaps, that one who has the title of
being a wit should say something more polite upon this occasion ;
but I am reaUy more a well-wisher to your felicity, than a cele-
brater of your beauty. Besides, you are now a married woman,
and in a fair way to be a great many better things than a fine
lady; such as, an exceUent wife, a faithful friend, a tender
parent, and at last, as the consequence of them all, a saint in
heaven. You ought now to hear nothing but that, which is all
that you ever desired to hear, whatever others have spoken to
you, I mean truth ; and it is with the utmost that I assure yoi^,
no friend you have can more rejoice in any good that befalls
you, is more sensibly delighted with tbe prospect of .ypur

430 ALEXANDER POPE.
This jrear, also, he produced ' The Dying Christian
to his Soul,' in imitation of the verses of Adrian * and
future happiness, or more unfeignedly desires a long continu
ance of it.
" I hope you wUl think it but just, that a man, who wiU cer-
tainly be spoken of as your admirer after he is dead, may have
the happiness, while he is living, to be esteemed '" Your, .&c.'*
This letter is sometimes annexed to the poem, and not inju
diciously, as it completes the subject in the happy marriage of
the heroine.
* Adrian's well-known lines are
Animula, vagula, blandula,
Hospes comesque corporis,
Quce nunc abibis in loca ?
Pallidula, rigida, nudula.
Nee {ut soles) dabisjocos!
This, Pope (in a Letter to Steele) affirms, in opposition to five ¦
or six of his learned friends, is not a piece of unseasonable
gayety, but a very serious soliloquy; the vagula, blandula, &c.
¦appearing to him expressions " not of levity, but rather of en
dearment and concern." He then subjoins his version, to be
inserted, if his correspondent adopts his view of the subject, in
the Spectator :
• Ah 1 fleeting spirit ! wandering fire,
That long hast warm'd my tender breast,
Must thou no more this frame inspire ?
No more a pleasing cheerful guest ?
Whither, ah whither art thou flying J
To what dark undiscover'd shore ?
Thou seem'st all trembling, shivering, dying.
And wit and humour are no more ! '
In a subsequent letter, replying to one of Steele's (in. which
he had been requested to put tbe same lines into two or three
stanzas for music) he says — " You have, it as Cowley calls it,
just warm from the brain. It came to me the first moment 1
waked this morning: yet, you will see, it was not so absolutely
6

ALEXANDER POPE. 431
" the fine fragment of Sapplio." It strongly resem
bles an ode. of Flatman, of whom he was probably
a reader, as he certainly was of Crashaw, Carew,
Quarles, and Herbert. " He was a gleaner," says
Wharton, " of the old English poets;" and in copying
Comus, he was pUfering from what was then " obso
lete EngUsh poetry,, without the least fear or danger
of being detected." About the same time, Ukewise,
he pubUshed his ' Temple of Fame,' altered from
Chaucer; having, with his usual caution, kept it
inspiration, but that I had in my head not only, the verses of
Adrian, but the fine fragment of Sappho, &c.
The Dying Christian to his Soul.
Onp. I.
* Vital spark of heavenly flame 1
Quit, oh quit this mortal frame ;
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying.
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife.
And let me languish into life.
II.
Hark ! they whisper ; Angels say,
" Sister Spirit, come away ! "
What is this absorbs me quite.
Steals my senses, shuts my sight.
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath ?
Tell me, my Soul, can this be death .'
HI.
The world recedes ; it disappears !
Heaven opens on my eyes ! My ears
With sounds seraphic ring :
Lend, lend ypur wings ! I mount ! I fly !
O Grave ! where is thy victory ?
O Death ? .Where is thy sting ? '

432 ALEXANDER POPE.
two years in his study. In this there are many
passages, which rank with his happiest efforts.
Of nearly contemporary date were the eight papers,
which he contributed to the ' Guardian.' That he
had previously assisted Steele in the ' Spectator,' may
be inferred from an epistle of the latter, announcing
to Pope the project of his new periodical work,
thbugh of that assistance there are no dfrect proofs :
but he certainly wrote No. 4 of the Guardian on
the Fulsomeness of Education, 11 on the Obsequium
Catholicon, 40 containing an fronical comparison of
his own ' Pastorals ' with those of Ambrose PhUips,*
61 on Cruelty to the Brute Creation, 78 or a Receipt
to make an Epic Poem (subsequently incorporated ill
the ' Memofrs of Martinus Scriblerus') 91 and 92 on
the Short Club, and 173 on laying out Gardens, and
whimsical forms of Yews. Of these, several abound
in rich and elegant humour; and as he excelled
in prose-composition, he would probably have con
tributed more frequently to the valuable works in
question, had he not been afi'aid to commit himself
(as Chalmers observes) by too close a connexion with
Steele, whose violent party-poUtics were in direct
opposition to his own. " The Uttle I have done (he
observes, in a letter to Addison) and the great respect
I bear Mr. Steele as a man of wit, has rendered me
a suspected Whig to some of the violent ; but, as old
Dryden said before me, it is not the violent I desire
to please." '
He had now, as appears from one of his letters,
* This composition of artifice, criticism, and literature, to
which (as Johnson remarks) nothing equal will easily be found,
so completdy deceived Steele, that he kept it back for some
time, lest Pope should be oftended ! Addison, however, per
ceived it's drift at once. See a former Note,

ALEXANDER POPE. 433
begun to translate Homer's lUad; and, in 171S, he
cfrculated proposals for pubUshing his translation by
subscription, in six volumes smaU foUo, for six guineas.
To this undertaking he had been pressed some years
before by his friends. His religious prindples dis
qualified him from receiving any substantial testi
mony of his merit, in the usual way, a place at
court. Common prudence, therefore, prompted him
to make the best advantage he could of his poetical
reputation, and to try to raise an independent fortune
by it. His success exceeded his most sanguine ex
pectations: the leaiding men, political and literaiy,
of both parties emulously espoused his merit; and
the subscription, by it's magnitude, did honour to
the kingdom.* As he was anxious to give his version
* Swift, with whom he had now become acquainted, was one
of it's most active promoters. His contract with the bookseller,
Lintot (whose conversation with him, during a ride to Oxford,
is described with such' inimitable humour in a letter from the
bard to Lord Burlington) was as follows : In return for the copy.;'
right, Lintot was to give him 200/. per volume, and to supply all
the subscription-copies gratis. These amounted to 694 (the sub
scribers being 575) for which Pope received 3,924 guineas, making
with tbe 1,200/. paid by the bookseller a net remuneration of
5,320/. 4«. ! After surmounting a little inaptitude at the outset,
his ordinary rate of progress (aided by the Latin, French, and
English versions, particularly Chapman's, which he has been
f occasionally suspected of using instead of the original) was fifty
lines a-day, including corrections. Of these a sample is sub
joined, as a literary curiosity, for the reader's amusement :
(N. B. The parts distinguished by Italics were rejected.) ,
* Thus having spoke, y' illustrious Chief of Troy
Extends his eager arms to embrace his Boy,
lovely
Stretchd his fond arms to seize y° beauteous boy ;
Babe
The Boy clung crying to his Nurses breast,
Scard at y dazzling Helm & nodding Crest.
VOL. V. 2 F

434 ALEXANDER POPE.
every possible perfection, he took a journey to Ox
ford, to consult some books in the Bodleian and other

each kind
In silent pleasure/ fond Parent smild.
And Hector hastend to relieve his Child
The guttering Terrours unbound^
His radiant Helmet from his Brows unbracd,
on y' Ground he
And on y' ground the glittering Terror placd
beamy
And placd y' radiant Helmet on y' Ground
Then seist y' Boy, and raising him in air
lifting
Thenfondling in bis arms his infant heir,
deincing
Thus to the Gods addrest a Father's prayer
Glory fills
O thou whose Thunder shakes y' Ethereal throne
deathless
Atid all ye other Powrs ! protect my son !
A
Like mine this war blooming youth with every virtue bless gract
The Shield and Glory ofthe Trojan race
Like mine his Valour and his just renown
Like mine his Labours to defend the Crown
Grant him like me to purchase just renown
the Trojans
To guard my country, to defend the crown
In arms like me his Countrys War to wage
& rise y' Hector of y' future age
Against his Countrys foes y' war to wage
& rise the Hector of y' future Age
successful
So when triumphant from the glorious toils
A
Of Heroes slain he bears y' reeking spoils
Whole hosts may
All Troy shall hail him wth deservd acclaim
& owne the son
& cry this chief tvanscends his Fathers fame
While pleasd amidst the general shouts of Troy
His Mothers conscious Heart oerflows wth Joy
on her
He sd & fondly gazing oer his consorts charms
llestord bi& Infant to ber longing arms.

ALEXANDER POPE. 435
Ubraries in that University ; * and the ffrst part of
his translation, containing four books, was pubUshed
In 1715.
An open breach with Addison preceded this pub
Ucation. Jealousy in one, and suspicious frritabUity
in the other, had already clouded thefr friendship;
though Pope had suppUed Addison with the noble
on
Soft in her fragrant Breast y' Babe she layd
Prest to her Heart and with a smUe surveyd
to Repose
Hushd him to Rest and wth a smile surveyd
Passion mixt with rising fears
But soon The troubled Pleasure dashd with Fear, by
The tender Pleasure soon chastised with Fear
She mingled wth y' smile a tender Tear !
The few variations, since introduced into the authorised
version^ are scarcely worth noticing : clasp for seize in the second
line, and se<:ret ill substituted for silent (no authority for either
in the text, n. Z. 471.) in the fifth, beaming for beamy helmet,
Then kiss'd the child, and lifting high in air,
Thus to the goSiS preferr'd a father's prayer.
and say, ' This chief. He spoke, Restored the pleasing burthen to
her arms, and the troubled pleasure in the last line, constitute
the whole. The entire extract is written, or rather half-printed
with a pen, on the back of a frank Of Addison's (when Esquires
were not quite so plentiful) addressed to Mr. Alexander Pope,
at Mr. Screen's house at Bath.
The original Manuscript, chiefly committed to acddental
scraps by it's ' pa:per-sparing ' owner, was obtained by Lord
Bolingbroke as a curiosity, descended from him to Mallett, and
is now (on the solicitation of the late Dr. Maty) deposited in
ihe British Museum.
, * After Broome and another eiid-de-Uvre had renounced their
offices, Jortin was employed to make extracts from Eustathius
for the Poet's use in the sister Univemty, at the rate of three
or four guineas for each book : but Popq made no inquiry after
b>s young coadjutor. See the Life of Jortin.
2 r 2

436 ALEXANDER POPE.
prologue to his ' Cato,' had written upon his ' Dia
logue on Medals,' and had not indeed vindicated
but avenged him by his ' Narrative of the Madness
of John Dennis,' the censurer of that tragedy, An
interview between them, accompUshed by the media
tion of mutual friends, had only widened the breach.
Immediately after the appearance of Pope's first
volume of the lUad, a rival translation was pubUshed
under the name of Tickell, to which Addison affected
in conversation to give the preference.* Exasperated
to a high degree by this competition. Pope wrote the
following keen and poUshed Unes, forming part of his
' Prologue to the Satfres : ' f
 * Were there one, whose fires
True genius kindles and fair fame inspires ;
Blest with each talent and each art to please.
And born to write, converse, and live with ease:
Should such a man, too fond to rule alone.
Bear like the Turk no brother near the throne ;
View hira with scornful, yet with jealous eyes.
And hate for arts that caused himself to rise ;
Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer.
And without sneering teach the rest to sneer ;
WUling to wound, and yet afraid to strike,
Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike ;
Alike reserved to blame, or to commend,
I A timorous foe and a suspicious friend ;
Dreading e'en fools, by flatterers besieged,
And so obliging that he ne'er obUged ; '
* Pope was persuaded, that it was his own; but: this is. not
flow believed to have been the case, as Tickell was fully equal
to the work. It never went farther than a single "book. And
why, in that case, should Addison have spoken so highly of
Pope's version in his ' Freeholder ' of May 7, 1716?
f That it was probably written in the first transport of his
indignation,' though suppressed tUl Addison's death, and then
meanly pijblished, may be inferred from his letter to Mr, Craggs
of July IS, 1715.

ALEXANDER POPE. 437
[Who, if two wits on rival themes contest.
Approves of each, but likes the worst the best ;]
Like Cato, give bis little senate laws,
And sit attentive to his own applause ;
While wits and templars every sentence raise.
And wonder with a foolish face of praise —
Who but must laugh, if such a man there be ?
Who would not weep, if Atticus were he ? '
His finances were now placed in such a flourishing
state, that he resolved to settle himself nearer to his
friends in the capital. With this view, the smaU
estate at Binfield being sold, he purchased a house at
Twickenham, whither he removed with his father
and mother before the expfration of the year 1715.
This he caUs, ' one of the grand aeras of his days ; '
and the taste, which he displayed in improving his
new residence, became the object of general admfra
tion. WhUe he was employed in this deUghtful work, he
could not forbear doubUng the pleasure which he took
in it, by communicating it to his friends. " The
young ladies," says he, in a letter to Mr. Blount,*
* Another Letter to the same beloved friend, in a somewhat
different strain of feeling, is not unworthy of insertioifr
' Oct. 21, 1721.
' Your very kind and obliging manner of inquiring after me,
among the first concerns of life, at your resuscitation, should
have been sooner answered and acknowledged. I sincerely re
joice at your recovery from an illness, which gave me less pain
than it did you only from my ignorance of it. I should have
else been seriously and deeply afflicted, in the thought of your
dai^er by a fever. I think it a fine and a natural thought, which
I lately read in a letter of Montaigne's, published by P. Coste,
giving an account of the last words of an intimate friend of his :
". Adieu, my friend! the pain I feel will soon be over; but I
grieve for that you are to feel, which is to last you for life."

438 ALEXANDER POPE.
" may be assured, that I make nothing new in my
gardens, without wishing to see the print of thefr
fafry steps in every corner of them. I have put the
' I join with your family in giving God thanks for lending us a
worthy man somewhat longer. The comforts you receive fi*om
their attendance, put me in mind of what old Fletcher of SaU
toune said one day to me : " Alas, I have nothing to do but to
die : 1 am a poor individual ; no creature to wish, or to fear, for
my life or death. It is the only reason I have to repent being a
single man : now I grow old, I am like a tree without a prop,
and without young trees to grow round me, for company and
defence." ' I hope the gout will soon go after the fever, and all evil
things remove far from you. But pray tell me, when will you
move toward us ? If you had an interval to get hither, I care
not what fixes you afterward, except the gout. Pray come, and
never stir from us again. Do away your dirty acres, cast them
to dirty people, such as in the scripturerphrase " possess the
land." Shake off your earth like the noble animal in Milton :
• The tawny lion, pawing to get free
His hinder parts, he springs as broke from bonds.
And rampant shakes his brinded mane : the ounce.
The lizard, and the tiger, as the mole
Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw
In hillocks ! '
But, I believe, MUton never thought these fine verses of his
should be applied to a man selling a parcel of dirty acres;
though in the main, I think, it may have some resemblance.
For, God knows ! this little space of ground nourishes, buries,
and confines us, as that of Eden did those creatures, tiU we can
shake it loose, at least in our affections and desires.
' Believe, dear Sir, I truly love and value you ; let Mrs.
Blount know that she is in the list of ray Memento, Domine,fa-
mulorum famularumque's, &c. My poor mother is far from weU,
declining ; and I am watching over ber, as we watch an expiring
taper, that even when it looks brightest, wastes fastest. I am (as
you will see from the whole air of this letter) not in the gayest
nor easiest humour, but always with sincerity your, &c.

ALEXANDER POPE. 439
last hand to my works of this kind, in happUy finish
ing the subterraneous way* and grotto; I there found
a spring of the clearest water, which faUs in a per
petual riU, that echoes through the cavern day and
night. From the river Thames you see through my
arch, up a walk of the wUdemess, to a kind of open
temple, wholly composed of shells in the rustic man
ner ; and, from that distance, under the temple you
look down through a sloping arcade of trees, and see
saUs on the river suddenly appearing and vanishing
as through a perspective-glass. WTien you shut the
door of this .grotto, it becomes on the instant from a
luminous room a camera obscura, on the waU of
which aU the objects of the river, hUls, woods, and
boats are forming a moving picture in thefr visible
radiations ; and, when you have a mind to Ught it
up, it affords you a very different scene. It is finished
with sheUs, interspersed with pieces of looking-glass
in angular forms, and in the ceiUng is a star of the
same materials ; at which, when a lamp of an orbi
cular figure of thin alabaster is hung in the middle,
a thousand pointed rays gUtter, and are reflected over
the place. There are connected to this grotto by a
narrower passage two porches, one toward the river,
of smooth stones, fuU of Ught and open ; the other
toward the garden, shadowed with trees, and rough
with sheUs, flints, and iron ores. The bottom is
paved with simple pebble, as is also the adjoining
walk up the wUdemess to the temple, in the' natural
taste, agreeing not iU with the Uttle dripping mur-

* From his house to his garden, under the high road which
separated them.

440 ALEXANDER POPE.
mur and the aquatic idea of the whole place. It
wants nothing to complete it but a good statue, with
an inscription Ulce that beauteous picturesque one
which you know I am so fond of ;
Hujus nympha lod, sacri custodia fontis,
Dormio, dum blandce sentio murmur aqvCae i
Parce meum, quisquis tangis cava marmora, somnum
Rumpere ; seu bibas, sive lavere, tace.*
« Nymph of the grot, these sacred springs I keep',
And to the murmur of these waters sleep.
Ab ! spare my slumbers : gently tread the cave.
And drink in sUence, or in sUence lave.'
" You'U think I have been very poetical ih this
descriptioHj but it is pretty nearly the truth."
He afterward composed a poem upon it in a pecu
Uar cast and kind ; f and Dr. Warburton informs us,
* These lines, originally written by Cardinal Bembo, the
Rev. Dr. Symmons, the excellent biographer of Milton, with his
accustomed felicity of version has thus translated :
• Here luU'd, whUe listening to the vocal wave,
I sleep, tbe virgin Genius of tbe cave.
Guest of my marble bower ! whoe'er thou art.
Spare my repose, drink! bathe! be still! depart!'
{Poems, p. 142.)
f ' Thou, who shalt stop where Thames' translucent wave
Shines, a broad mirror through the shadowy cave ;
Where lingering drops from mineral roofs distU,
And pointed crystals break the sparkling rill ;
Unpolish'd gems no ray on pride bestow.
And latent metals innocently glow :
Approach ! great Nature studiously behold ;
And eye the mine, without a wish for gold.
Approach, but aweful !— ^Lo ! th' Egerian grot.
Where, nobly pensive, St, John sat and thought ;

ALEXANDER POPE, 441
that the improving of this grotto was the favourite
amusement of his decUning years : so that, not long
before his death, by encrusting it about with a vast
number of ores and minerals of the richest and rarest
kinds, he had rendered it a most elegant retirement.
" And the beauty of his poetic genius (he adds) in
the disposition and ornaments of those romantic ma
terials, appeared to as much advantage as in any of
his best-contrived poems." *
His father survived his removal to Twickenham
only two years, dying suddenly, after a very healthy
Ufe, at the age of seventy-five.f

Where British sighs from dying Wyndham stole.
And the bright flame was shot thi-ough Marchmont's soul !
Let such, such only, tread this sacred floor.
Who dare to love their country, and be poor! '
* The reader will hear with regret that of this grotto, &c.,
conceived, constructed, and consecrated by tbe hand of genius,
no remains now exist !
f He was buried at Twickenham, where the poet erected a
handsome monument to his memory, with an inscription cele
brating his innocence, probity, and piety. See the character,
which his pious son has given him, in the ' Prologue to the Sa
tires,' ' Born to no pride, inheriting no strife,' &t. As he was
a Roman Catholic, he could not purchase land, nor put his
money to interest upon real security; and, adhering to the in
terest of tbe Stuarts, he made it a point of conscience not to
lend it to the new government. Hence, though he was worth
nearly 20,000/. when he declined business as a linen-draper in
the Strand at the Revolution, by subsequently liviiig upon his
capital, he left behind him so narrow a fortune, that a single
false step in it's application would have proved fatal.
The old gentleman had occasionally recommended to his son,
in his early years, the study of physic, as the best means of re
pairing this waste of property. But he could not have proceeded
beyond a simple proposal, as we are assured by tbe poet, that

442 ALEXANDER POPE.
Probably about this period, induced (as Savage in
formed Dr. Johnson) by his perusal of Prior's ' Nnt-
brown Maid,' he wrote his celebrated ' Epistle from
Eloisa to Abelard ; ' of which aU the most striking
turns are to be traced in that heroine's letters. By
the brUUance which he has added to the descriptions;
and the warmth infused into the passions, he"has
rendered this finished poem the most impressive per
haps of amatory compositions. It treads, however,
too closely upon the heels of Ucentiousness in con
sequence of these poetical exaggerations, which have '
been accurately pointed out by Mr. Berrington in his
' Lives of the Two Lovers.'
In 1717, he repubUshed in quarto his ' Poems' al
ready written, with a Uvely and elegant preface, and
in 1720, he completed his lUad. In the dedication
of it, which Halifax, expected, he passed over peers
and statesmen (probably unwUUng to risk offending
either party, since he had so many patrons and
friends among both) and inscribed it to a brother-
poet, Congreve, with whom it does not appear that
he was in habits of pecuUar intimacy.
In the same year, he was infected with the general
South Sea contagion ; but, the first faU of the stock
exciting in him a salutary alarm, he sold out in time
to save himself from any considerable loss.
In 1721, he pubUshed a volume of the select
' Poems ' of his deceased friend ParneU (who had
furnished him with the ' Life of Homer ' for his
Translation) and prefixed to it a beautiful dedication
in verse to the Earl of Oxford, at that tifne a retfred
be ' broke no duty, nor disobeyed either parent, in foUowing the
poetical profession ; ' and his father had the satisfaction of living
long enough to see him making an honourable fortune by it.

ALEXANDER POPE. 443
statesman under the discountenance of a triumphant
party. His reUgion indeed, in conjunction with his
early impressions and his principal intimacies, gave
him a bias toward the Tory or Jacobite party, which
obviously and at all times influenced his censure and
his praise.
The possession of wealth, it has been truly ob
served, excites a thirst for more. In this same year,
for the paltry bribe of 217/. 1^*. he lent his
name and labour to Tonson as editor of Shakspeare's
Works in six volumes, 4to. ; an office, for which he
was so Uttle fit, that he incurred the perpetual casti-
gation of the heavy Theobald. Henceforward in
deed, says Johnson, he " became an enemy to edi
tors, coUators, commentators, and verbal critics ; and
hoped to persuade the world, that he miscarried in
this undertaking only by having a mind too great for
such minute employment."
His love of emolument was stiU more largely dis
played by issuing proposals for the translation of the
Odyssey, in five volumes quarto at five guineas, with
the assistance however of two coadjutors, Fenton and
Broome, who finished thefr portion of the work in an
inferior manner. The whole transaction was as com
pletely mercantUe, as if it had been negotiated in
Change-Alley.* * He was to receive all the subscriptions (819, for 574 names)
and 100^. per volume besides, > from Lintot, who was as before to
furnish the subscribers' copies gratis. Out of this aggregate of
4,799/. 15*. he paid Fenton 300/. for his version^of books i. iv.
xix. and jKX., and Broome for double the number of books (ii.
vi. viii. xi. xii. xvi. xviii. and xxiii.) and notes upon the whole,
double that sum. Spence wrote a commentary on the English
Odyssey, which gained him the friendship of the translator with
the privUege of compiling memorials of his conversation, and
through his influence valuable preferment in the church.

444 ALEXANDER POPE.
In 1723 he appeared before the Lords at the trial
of Atterbury, to depose to the occupations of his
private life, which left Uttle time for conspirades.
Upon this occasion, he is said to have committed
several blunders. His letters to that Prelate, both
before and after his misfortune, overflow with esteem,
tenderness, and gratitude.
. In 1726 and the foUowing year, in concert with
his associates . Swift and Arbuthnot, he was en
gaged in printing several volumes of MisceUanies.
Pope's contributions were, the '. Meniofrs of a Parish-
Clerk,' ' StradUng versus Styles,' Virgilius Restau-
ratus,' the ' Basset-Table,' and the 'Art. of Sinking
in Poetry,' designed as a part of the ' Memoirs of
Martinus Scriblerus,' a satfre projected in conjunction
with his above-named associates ' On the Abuses of
Human Learning,' in the manner of Cervantes.
About this time, he narrowly escaped losing his life,
as he was returning home in a friend's chariot. In
passing a bridge, the carriage was overturned, and
. with the horses thrown into the river. As the glasses
were up, and he was unable to break them, he was
in immediate danger of drowning, when the postil
lion fortunately came to his reUef, and carried him to
the bank : a fragment of the broken glass, however,
wounded his hand so deeply, that he lost the use of
two of his fingers.*
Having now secured to himself a state of inde
pendence, he made it his next care to guard his Ute
rary fame from future attacks, by sUencing his en
vious rivals. This he accompUshed in his admirable
* Voltaire, who had visited England this year, and been in
troduced to Pope, wrote him a letter of condolence upon th^
occasion.

ALEXANDER POPE. 44 B
poem entitled ' The Dunciad,' which came out in
1727. Here, observes Anderson, he appears by his own
narrative (in the dedication, which he wrote to Lord
Middlesex in the name of Savage) to have been the
aggressor. No one can beUeve, that the initials
adopted in the ' Art of Sinking in Poetry ' were
placed at random. Theobald, Eusden, Blackmore,
PhUips, Defoe, Bentley, HUl,* Welsted, and Cibber
* In a subsequent edition, however, he thought fit to omit
Aaron HUl, who by manly expostulation compelled him to
shulBe, and deny, and apologise, and suppress. He, also, left
out the name of Burnet. After having thus (as it has been ob
served) humbled the fine genius, which discovers itself in the
text of the poem, through all the depravity of a splenetic and
frequently calumnious commentary ; vaunted, in • all the phrensy
and prodig'ality of vanity,' — Yes, I am proud to see
Men, not afraid of God, afraid of me ;
and tried to persuade the awed nation, thataU talent was confined
to himself and his friends ; he was obliged to purchase protec
tion from a hired champion (a tall Irishman, who attended him)
or to sculk behind the shield of some generous mUitary Ajax,
He had, likewise, to encounter the strong sense of Theobald,
the furious but often acute remarks of Dennis (whom he had
provoked to implacable hostUity by his ' Appius'), the good
humoured yet keen reraonstrances of Cibber, the silver shaft
tipped with venom of the vindictive Lady Mary Wortley Mon
tagu, and many a vigorous random shot. One of these, by a
? Theobaldian,' is here preserved for the reader's amusement.
' With rueful eyes thou view'st thy wretched race.
The child of guilt and destined to disgrace.
Thus, when famed Joan usurp'd the Pontiff's chair.
With terrer she beheld her new-born heir :
lU-starr'd, ill-favour'd, into birth it came,
In vice begotten and brought forth with shame ;
In vain it breathes, a lewd abandon'd hope.
And calls in vain th' unhaUow'd parent — Pope-'

446 ALEXANDER POPE.
were not writers, who deserved to be ridiculed for
their general defects ; nor had they particularly slan
dered the satirist. The Dunces, if indeed they were
not flies unworthy bf an eagle, should have smarted
by themselves, or at any rate should only haVe been
coupled with his calumniators. Perhaps, throughout
the history of Uterature, there hardly occurs a second
instance of such futUe vengeance ; as Pope himself
pronounces his enemies ' so contemptible that, if left
alone, they must speedUy sink into total obUrion.'
And to his verses alone is it now owing, that they
are known to have existed. That amber has pre
served them.
Personal satfre however, to which he was first in
cited by his friend Atterbury, was so weU suited to
his disposition, and by quickening the sale of his
poems so gratified his lust of Uterary profit, that
it is to be traced in most of his subsequent pro
ductions. When he subsequently deprecated the
appropriation of his Bufo, he found a painful re
tardation in thefr sale. Yet Dr. Young, in his
' Love of Fame,' ventured to rely solely upon ab
stract characters and pure wit. Cartwright, one of
the pupUs of Old Ben, has by a most beautiful and
original image described the genuine office of the
satirist : — ' 'Tis thy skill
To strike the vice, but spare the person stUI;
As be who, when he saw the serpent wreathed
About his sleeping son, and as be breathed
Drink in his soul, did so the shot contrive
To kiU the beast, but keep the child alive.'
The life of an author, he himself somewhere ob
serves, is a state of warfare ; and in this attack, or
rather series of attacks, he has proved himself a

ALEXANDER POPE. 44?
complete Uterary general. He had borne the insults
of his enemies fuU ten years? before he hazarded a
general battle : he was all that whUe cUmbing the
hiUs of Parnassus, duriijg which he could not forbear
some sUght skfrmishes; and the success of these
showed him his superior strength, and thus added
confidence to his courage. He was now seated safely
on the summit. Besides, he had obtained what in
his own opinion is the happiest end of Ufe, the love
of valuable men : and the next feUcity, he declares,
was ' to get rid of fools and scoundrels ; ' to which
end, after having by several affected marches and
counter-marches brought the whole army of them
into his power^ he suddenly feU upon them with a
pen as irresistible as the sword of St. Michael, and
made an universal slaughter, not suffering one of
them to escape his fury.
The poem made it's first appearance, as a masked
battery, in Ireland ; nor indeed was the triumph com
pleted without the assistance of the writer's un
doubted second. Dean Swift, to whom it is addressed.
The latter having furnished it with some exquisitely-
wrought materials, a splendid edition was printed in
London in 1728-*
* This edition was presented to their Majesties by Sir Robert
Walpole, who probably offered at the same time to procure the
author a pension : but with the same spirit, with which he had
formerly refusedan offer ofthe same kind made by Lord Halifax,
he declined the obligation. It is, also, well known that Mr.
Craggs, in 1710, gave him a subscription for one hundred
pounds in the South Sea Fund, of which he made no use.
As these offers were undoubtedly made with the view of de
taching him from his politica;! friends, his refusals are so many
illustrious proofs of bis steadiness. Yet he declares, in a letter

448 ALEXANDER POPE.
In 1729, with equal prudence and piety, he pur
chased an annuity of one hundred pounds for his own
and his mother's life.
The same year Ukewise, ^by the advice of Lord
BoUngbroke, he turned his pen to subjects of ethics ;
and with the assistance of that nobleman (who after
ward, it is said, ridiculed him for having advanced
principles at variance with his own, and of which he
did not perceive the consequences) commenced his
' Essay on Man.' * " Bid Pope," says BoUngbroke
in a letter to Swift, " taUc to you of the workf he
is about, I hope in good earnest ; it is a fine one, and
will be in his h^nds an original. His sole complaint
is, that ' he finds it too easy in the execution.' This
flatters his laziness. It flatters my judgement, who
always thought \hat, universal as his talents arcj
this is eminently and pecuUarly his above all the
to Swift, that ' he had personal obligations, which he would ever
preserve, to gentlemen on both sides of the question.'
* This, of which thp first Three parts were successively pub
lished anonymously in 1733, was in the ensuing year completed
by a Fourth, and avowed by the author. Faulty and puerile as
some of it's lines are, and irapferfectly as he is now known to
have coraprehended his subject, yet from bis extraordinary
powers of managing argumentation in verse, and alternately
compressing bis thoughts in clauses of the most energetic brevity,
and expanding therti into passages fraught with every poetic
ornament, the Essayist on Man must always stand in the first
class of ethical poets.
f " The work he speaks of with such abundant partiality is, a
system of ethics, in the Horatian way." (Pope's ' Letters to
Swift.') In a subsequent letter, we see the general aim, which he wished
might be attributed to this work : " I am just now writing, or
rather planning, a book, to bring mankind to look upon this life
with comfort and pleasure, and put morality in good humour."

ALEXANDER POPE. 449
writers I know, Uving or dead; I do not except
Horace."
This subject was exactly suited to his genius ;~he
found the performance unexpectedly easy ; and he,
therefore, employed his leisure hours upon a simUar
plan in his ' Ethic Epistles,' which came out sepa
rately in the course of the two foUowing years.
Against the fourth of these Epistles, addressed to
Lord BoUngbroke, upon Taste, a loud clamor was
raised ; and the character of Timon contained in it,
more particularly, gave great offence. The Duke of
Chandos, the hospitable proprietor of the magnifi
cent seat of Cannons, it is said, addressed the writer,
who had often partaken of his courtesy, in a manner
which convinced him that he ought to have confined
himself to fictitious characters. Pope's exculpatory
apology was accepted by his justly-offended host,
and — disbeUeved.
. AE this whUe, the Epistle sold so rapidly, that
it had reached a thfrd edition: upon which he
published a letter to Lord BurUngton, in the March
foUoWing ; expressing his resentment of the charge,
which (he says) ' through maUce or mistake stiU con
tinued,' disavowing any design against the Duke,
pajdng him several high compUments, and subjoin
ing ; " Certainly the writer deserved more candor,
even in those who know him not, than to promote a
report, which in regard to that noble person was im
pertinent, in regard to me vUlainous." He concludes
with threatening to make use of real names, not fa
bricated ones, in his ensuing works ; and, accordingly,
he thenceforward let loose the whole fury of his sati
rical rage against his adversaries both in prose and
verse. VOL. T. 9 G

450 ALEXANDER POPE.
In his ' Imitation of the Ffrst Satire of Horace^
Second Book,' he had described Lord Hervey * and
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu f so charaderisticaUy
under the names of Lord Fanny and Sappho, that
they not only took up the same weapons against himi
in retum, but vindictively used aU their interest
among the nobiUty, and even with the King and
Queen, to effect his ruin. Of this last injury he
complained the most heavily : and tbe letter, which
he wrote in reply, was shown to her Majesty as soon
as it was finished, f
* His prose letter to the same nobleman Warton calls, ' a
roaster-piece of invective.'
f With this lady be had "become acquainted, soon after his re
moval to Twickenham; he had addressed ber (without exciting
much of her alarm, either as to danger or scandal) in. the strain
of a lover, and not only corresponded with her while abroad
from 1716 to 1718, but maintained also a friendly intercourse with
her for some time after her return. If he intended his ' Sappho''
for her Ladyship — and who now doubts it ? a grosser and more
unmanly insult was never offered to one of the sex.
Yet he retained some female friends. Of the two MissesBlount
(sisters of a Catbolic gentleman near Reading, who was one of
his correspondents) tbe handsomest, Teresa, seems first to have
attracted his particular regard ; but Martha, subsequently, be
came his intimate confidante and companion through life;
X The Queen, says Ruffhead, had " declared her intention
of honouring him with a visit at Twickenham. His mother was
then alive ; and lest the visit should give her pain, on account of
the danger his religious principles must incur by an intimacy
with the court, his piety made him with great duty and humi
lity beg, that ' he might decline this honour.' Some years after
ward, his mother being then dead, the Prince of Wales con
descended to pay him a visit : when Mr. Pope met him at the
water-side, he expressed bis sense of the honour done him in
very proper terms, joined with the most dutiful expressions of
^ttachmentr On which the Prince said, " It is very weU ; bufc
how shall we reconcUe your love to a Prince with your professed

ALEXANDER POPE. 451
After this, he continued writing Satires tUl the
year 1739, when he entertained some thoughts of
undertaking an epic poem ; which, however, he never
carried into execution. In the EpUogue, he has stated
the reason of his laying down his satirical pen ; as he
had previously assigned the cause for discontinuing
his Moral Essays, in a letter to Dean Swift : " I am
almost at the end of my morals, as I have been Idhg
ago of my wit : my system is a short one, and my
cfrcle narrow. Imagination has rto limits ; that is a
sphere, in which you may move on to eternity : but
where one is confined to truth, or (to speak more like
a human creature) to the appearances of trtith, we
soon find the shortness of our tether."
In 1732 he lost his amiable friend Gay, whom he
loved with great affection ; and the ensuing year, by
a stUl heavier stroke, deprived him of his mother.
* Heaven had lent her long, however (if the id quod
est diu may be ascribed to any thing mortal) to her
son and the poor; as she reached the very advanced
age of ninety three. " His fiUal piety," says Johh'-
son, " was in the highest degree amiable and exem
plary : his parents had the happiness of Uving tiU he
was at the summit of his poetical reputation, tUl he
was at ease in his fortune, and without a rival in his
fame; and found no diminution of his resped or
tenderness. Whatever Was his pride, to them he
was obedient ; and whatever was his irritgbiUty, to
indisposition to Kings, since Princes wUl be Kings in time ? "
" Sire,'' replied Pope, " I consider royalty under that noble
and authorised type of the lion : whUe he is young, and before
his naUs are grown, he may be approached aiid caressed mtk
safety and pleasure."
2 G 2

452 ALEXANDER POPE.
them he was gentle. LUe has, among it's soothing
and quiet comforts, few things better to bestow than
such a son."
In the interim, several of his famiUar letters baring
stolen into the world without his privity^ he pubUshed
a genuine coUection of them in quarto, for which he
received subscriptions, in 1737. The surreptitious
edition is said to have been accompUshed in the fol
lowing manner: Pope had held a correspondence
with Mr. CromweU, whose mistress (the celebrated '
Corinna of that day) sold some of the poet's epistles
to the noted pfratical book-dealer, Edmund CiuH. ^
These CurU showed to gentlemen, with whom Pope
had Ukewise corresponded, and thus procured from '
them the communication of other letters; as they
conceived, he must with the writer's concurrence have
been put in possession of the first.
Upon this pubUcation Pope, with the appearance of
great resentment, procured the editor to be sum
moned before the House of Lords for breach of pri-.
vUege, there being (as it was asserted) some letters
from noblemen in the number; although there is
substantial evidence that he himself, with his charac
teristical crookedness of poUcy, had contrived the
plot, through the medium of Worsdale the printer,
in order to justify his own subsequent edition. These
letters, though written much Uke those of the younger
PUny, for the purpose of displaying himself to the
pubUc, with considerable parade of sentiment and (in
the midst of aU their elegance and sprightUness) tainted
by occasional affectation and artifice of expression,
particularly when addressed to ladies, fiUed the na
tion, as we learn from Johnson, with praisfes of his

ALEXANDER POPE. 453
candor, tenderness, and benevolence, the purity of his
purposes, and the fideUty of his friendship. The col
lection including several interesting Epistles from his
correspondents,* formed a valuable addition to English
Uterature. In 1733, he pubUshed his ' Epistle to Lord
Bathurst, on the Use of Riches,' in which he por
trays Kyrl, " the Man of Ross : " and, in the year
foUowing, his ' Characters of M^n;' in which, by a
most unskUful Ulustration of his favourite theory., the
RuUng Passion, he has confounded passions, appetites,
and habits. In his next Epistle, on the ' Characters
of Women,' his subsequent insertion of the Duchess
of MarlbOTOugh, under the name of Atossa, formed a
disgraceful paraUel to Hs ungrateful attack upon his
friend, the Duke of Chandos. His ' Prologue to his
Satfres' appeared in January, 1735, about a month
bdore the death of Dr. Arbuthnot, to whom it was
addressed; a man, whose buoyant imagination science
had not encumbered, whose early skiU society had
not diminished, amiable and useful in aU the rela
tions of Ufe, and neither too witty nor too wise to
pray. In 1740, he repubUshed the ' Poemata Italorum,'
originaUy given to the world by Atterbury f in 1684,
with some additions ; of which, however, it may be
* Arbuthnot's, especially, are composed, as well as those of
Swift, with the most playful ease and simplicity : and several of
BoUngbroke's and Atterbury's indicate the hand of a master.
f In the title-page designated, f Anonymi Ci^usddm ! ' Could
Pope be ignorant, .who had been his predecessor ? Or had nine
years (for Atterbury died in 1731) taught him to forget, or to
}x]sh that the world should forget, one who had been his friend ?

454 ALEXANDER POPE.
doubted, whether they compensate the omission of
the very classical preface. About the same time^
Ukewise, on the suggestion of the Duke of Shrews
bury and the Earl of Oxford, he pubUshed his
' Donne's Satfres ' modernised.
Honours now thickened round him: and the
Prince of Wales himself, though not insensible to
his poUtical character as opposed to that of his
father's ministers, dined at his house. Thus sti-
mulated, he wrote his two last satires, ' Seventeen
Hundred and Thfrty Eight,' which are distinguished
(as might be expected) by their party-severity.
The UI state of his health about this time fre
quently drawing him to Bath, he could not long re--
main unknown to Mr. AUen, who resided at Prior
Park nesff that place, and had been highly deUghted
by his ' Letters.'* The result of their intercourse
was his introduction to Warburton, subsequently
Bishop of Gloucester, who h9,d written Commentr
aries upon the ^ Art of Criticism,' and the ' Essay
on Man.' f
• This gentleman, the AUworthy of Fielding's Tom Jopes,
had even offered to pay the expense of the new edition : but
Pope had too often tasted the «weets of siibscription, to be si(-
tified with mere indemnity from loss.
f In both be detected an order and ponnexjpn, which had
escaped the observation of Addison, and had not (it is even
said) entered into the contemplation of the author himself. For
this useful sagacity, he was abundantly remunerated by what
Pope procured for him in return ; the friendship of Mr. Murray
(afterward Lord Mansfield) through whose interest he became
preacher at Lincoln's Inn and all that followed, and that of Mr.
Allen, who gave him his niece and bis estate. .
Dx. Hugh Blair, in a Letter to Mr. Boswe]], states (on the au
thority of Lord Bathurst) tbat "|he » Essay on Man' was origin

ALEXANDER POPE. 455
One complaint against the latter work was, it's
obscurity ; and with this it had been charged even
by his acute friend, the Dean of St. Patrick's. But
it laboured, also, under a heavier imputation : the
author was charged with having inculcated the prin
ciples of deism; and a French translation by the
Abbe Resnel having appeared at Paris in 1738,
M. Crousaz, a German Professor, severely animad
verted upon it as a direct system of fataUsm. Against
this objector Warburton first entered the lists, in his
Commentary ; and Pope, in a letter to him upon the
occasion, acknowledges the obscurity of his piece :
*' You have made my system as clear as I ought to
have done, and could not; you understand me as
nally composed by Lord Bolingbroke in most elegant prose, and
that Pope did no more than put it' into most beautiful verse." Lord
Bathurst, likewise, farther informed him, ' that he knew Pope un
derstood the Iliad in the original: for part ofit was translated at
his own seat; and in the mornings, when they assembled at
breakfast, the poet used frequently to repeat with great rapture
tbe Greek lines which he had been translating, and then to give
them his version and to compare them together.' {Life of
Johnson, iii. 198, 199.)
Bishop Law, in his preface to Archbishop King's ' Essay on
the Origin of Evi},' more indirectly indeed, confirms the former
of the two above-mentioned facts. From that fact, and the sub
sequent friendship of Pope and Warburton, perhaps Boling-
broke's perpetual hostUity to the bard, or rather to his ashes, may
be explained. The subtile suggestions of the powerful Com
mentator had purged the ' Essay ' from many of the objection
able principles of the noble phUosophist, and had re-established
the f^tb of it's author, which had been shaken by his Lordship.
Warburton had, likewise, committed to paper some very free stric
tures upon the « Letters on the Use and Abuse of History,' with
out knowing who was the writer. These Pope transmitted to Bo
lingbroke. On the subsequent meeting of the two antagonists,
tbe lattfer dissembled : but they were born to hate each other.

456 ALEXANDER POPE.
weU as I do myself, but you express me better than
I express myself." In a subsequent communication,
he goes stiU farther : " You understand my work
better than I do myself." *
The Commentary, thus approved, was appended
to a new edition of the Essay in 1740. Pope de
sfred Warburton, likewise, to procure a good version
of the ' Essay on Man ' into Latin prose, which was
begun by a gentleman of Cambridge ; but a speci
men, which was sent to the poet, not giving satisfac
tion, the design was laid aside.
At the instance of his reverend Commentator, f
also, he added a fourth book to the Dunciad ; which
was printed separately, in 1742.
Both in his ' Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot,' and in^
the ' Dunciad,' he had attacked Cibber with great
acrimony. Cibber, who knew his frritabiUty, in ja
bitter pamphlet told some ludicrous stories of his,
assailant. In consequence of this, in a new editioti
of the latter poem he was seated on the throne of
Dulness in the stead of Theobald. Unfortunately,
the two heroes were of opposite characters ; and as
* From these acknowledgements it appears that Boling
broke, who confessedly furnished the matter of the' ' Essay,' had
put more into the poet's head than he was able perfectly to com
prehend. t About this period tbe two friends visited Oxford together,
where Mr. Pope had the offer of a doctor's degree in law;
which, however, he thought proper to decline. A similar offer
to his fellow-traveller, of a, doctor's degree in divinity^ was
received in a very different manner. But it proved to be a mere
compliment, those who made it having erroneously imagined,
thait one of them would not choose to receive siich a compliment
without the other ; so that, when the Congregation met for the
purpose, the grace (to Warburton's deep annoyance) passed in
the negative.

ALEXANDER POPE. 457
Pope was unwUUng to cancel what he had afready
written, he left to the new monarch the unsuitable
accompaniment of old books, cold pedantry, and
sluggish pertinacity, which had so happUy charac
terised the old one. This disturbed the ro Tr^iirov of
the whole fiction, and the result was, a poetical chi-
meera. Cibber however, anxious only, for present
annoyance, and indifferent to ftiture fame, retaUated
by a second pamphlet. With his inimitable gaieti de
cceur (for by his innocent egotism, and strong animal
spirits, he was carried to the vergeof ninety five) and
with the honest simpUcity of truth, though wrestUng
with one of celestial race, he came off apparently victor.
Henceforward under the oppression of a severe
asthma, decUning in strength and drooping in spirits,
he laid aside his projects of new Works (including an
epic poem, on the arrival of Brutus in England) and
employed himself chiefly in revision. Among the
friends, whose visits consoled his infirmities. Lord
BoUngbroke* was one of the most assiduous and
affectionate. By Miss Blount, to whom notwith
standing he left the greater part of his fortune for
her Ufe, he was unfeeUngly neglected.
* This friendship he justly forfeited, after he was no. longer
sensible, however, to it's loss. Having been requested by his
noble acquaintance to procure the impression of a very few
copies of his 'Patriot King,' he bad ordered to be thrown off and
retained in secret the large number of 1500, which on Pope's
death th« printer honestly transmitted to the right owner ! Bo
lingbroke consigned them all to the flames, and employed MaUet,
another'friend of Pope, to expose" this shameful breach bf trust
to the public. Even Warburton, whose attachment perhaps had
now cooled a little, only endeavoured to extenuate the offence:
and" he was addressed, in consequence of tbe audacity of the
attempt, in a • Letter to the most Impudent Man Living.'

458 ALEXANDER POPE.
During his last iUness, he complained of f seeing
things as through a curtain;' and lamented, as his
greatest inconvenience, his inabiUty to think. Upon
the suggestion of Hooke the historian, a convert to
Popery, he received the sacrament from a Romish
priest.* He had, throughout his life, been the victim of a
severe head-ach. f This complaint, to which his
mother likewise had always been subject, was now
greatly increased by his other aUments; and under
thefr joint attack he expfred. May 30, 1744, in the
fifty sixth year of his age.
His body was deposited, pursuant to his own re-
^quest, in the same vault with those of his parents,
to whose memory he had erected a monument, with
an inscription written by himself:
D. O. M.
Alexandra Pope, viro innocuo, proho, pio,
Qui vixii an. 75, ob. 1717.
Et EdithcB conjugi, inculpabili, pientisdmes, '
Ques vixit an. 93, ob. 1733.
Parentibus bene merentibus
Filijisfedt,
Et sibi. Obiit an. (1744.) cetatis (56).
Not long before his death he made his wUl, | in
which he bequeathed his papers to Lord BoUngbroke,
• Though pressed by Atterbury, he had never chosen to
declare a change of religion : whether through indifference to
forms, or from a reluctance to give his mother pain. »
f Upon this subject an elegant epigram was written :
' Immortal Jove thus felt an equal pain,
And Wisdom's Goddess issued from his brain.'
X Lord Bathurst, Lord Marchmont, Mr. Murray, and Mr.
Arbuthnot were his executors. /

ALEXANDER POPE. 459
and faiUng him to Lord Marchmont; to Dr. War
burton the property of such of his works afready
printed, as he had written or should write Com
mentaries upon, and which had not been othei-wise
disposed of (with the sole condition, that they should
be published without subsequent alterations); his pic
tures and statues, with some of his favourite books,
among his noble friends ; provision for his favourite
domestics ; and to Mr. AUen,* in affected repayment
of aU his kindness, a legacy of 150/. ! whidi that
gentleman accepted, and gave to the Bath Hospital.
" I own," says he in a letter to Warburton, " the
late encroaichments upon my constitution make me
wUUng to see the end of aU farther care about me, or
my works. I would rest for the one, in a fuU resig
nation of my being to be disposed of by the*- Father
of all Mercies ; and for the other, though indeed a
trifle, yet a trifle may be some example, I would
commit them to the candor of a sensible and reflect
ing judge, rather than to the maUce of every short
sighted and malevolent critic, or inadvertent and
censorious reader ; and no head can set them in so
clear a Ught, or so weU tum their best side to the
day, as your own." In discharge of this trust,
Warburton gave a complete edition, in 1751, of all
his works (with the exception of his Homer) in nine
* Alien bad offended the haughty Miss Blount, by refusing her
his carriage to the Catholic chapel. This, as he was then Mayor
of 6ath,»he stated, ' could not without impropriety be seen at
the door of a place of worship, which his office might require
him to suppress,' She .complained to Pope on the occasion, and
not satisfied with making him abruptly leave the house, refused
to accept from him any legacy, unless he left the world with a
formal disavowal of all obligation to Mr. Allen. Pope meanly
submitted to pollute his will with female resentment.

460 ALEXANDER POPE.
volumes octavo, executed in such a manner as, he
was persuaded, would have been to the author's entire
satisfaction.* " If we may judge of him (says Lord Orrery) by
his works, his chief aim, was to be esteemed a man
of vfrtue. His letters are written in that stile : his
last vplumes are aU ofthe moral kind; he has avoided
trifles, and consequently has escaped a rock, which
has proved very injurious to Dr. Swift's reputation.
He has given his imagination full scope, and yet has
preserved a perpetual guard upon his conduct. The
constitution of his body and mind might reaUy incUne
him to the habits of caution and reserve : the treat
ment, which he met with afterward from an innu
merable tribe' of adversaries, confirmed this habit,
and made him slower thian the Dean in pronounang
his judgement upon persons and things. His prose-
writings are Uttle less harmonious than his verse;
and his voice, in common conversation, was so natu
raUy musical, that I remember honest Tom Southern
used to caU him the ' Little Nightingale.' His
manners were easy, delicate, and engaging ; and he
treated his friends with a poUteness that charmed,
* How far, howeyer, bis editorial privilege of writing notes
extended, is only known to himself. Many indeed, inserted in
the first edition, were left out in the second ; but many likewise
were retained, which convey severe reflexions upon the poet's
dearest friends. These have not escaped deserved censure.
Another edition, by Owen Ruffhead, with an account of hi?
Life and observations upon his compositions, appeared in $ vols,
4to. in 1769., Others were announced by Gilbert Wakefield,
and Dr. Jo$eph Warton, whose ' Essay on the Genius and
Writings of Pope' (2 vols. Svo. 1762, 1782) abounds with taste
and learning ; and the latest was published in ten volumes 8vo,i
by the Rev. W. L. Bowles, in 1806.

ALEXANDER POF^E. 461
and a generosity that was much to his honour.
Every guest was made happy within his doors, plea
sure dwelt under his roof, and elegance presided at
his table."
In person protuberant both behind and before, he
was so low of stature, that in order to bring him on
a level with common tables, it was necessary to raise
his seat. But his face was animated, and his eye
remarkably piercing. As he could scarcely, from the
contraction of one side and general feebleness of frame,
hold himself upright without support, he very par
donably used stays. Under a coarse Unen shirt,
with fine sleeves^ he wore a fur doublet; and, to
enlarge the bulk of his legs, had three pair of stock
ings, which (as he could neither dress, nor undress,
himself) were drawn on and off by his maid. Sickly,
fretfiil, and impatient, he was extremely troublesome
to the servants of those whom he visited; but he
compensated thefr kindness by pecuniary rewards.
When he felt drowsy, a sense of propriety did not
restrain him from nodding in company : he once, in
deed, slumbered at his own table, whUe the Prince of
Wales was talking of poetry. In eating, he was
both dainty and voracious ; but it does not appear,
that he was addicted to wine. At home, he was at
some times so frugal, that he would Umit a couple of
guests to a pint of wine; though at others, professing
to^give a splendid entertainment, he would display
great taste and magnificence. His love of money was
rather eagerness to gain, than soUcitude to keep : for
he lent a considerable sum to Dodsley, to enable him
to open a shop, subscribed handsomely to Savage,
and bestowed large sums in charity. Too early sus
ceptible and too long retentive of offence, open to

462 ALEXANDER POPE.
flattery and studious of revenge, peevish in temper
and petty in contrivance (which may principaUy be
ascribed, perhaps, to constitutional debiUty) he must
have had a powerful overbalance of virtues, to be
so much beloved during his life, and so affection
ately regretted after his death. BoUngbroke hunsetf
afiirmed, ' He had never known a man, who had so
tender a heart for his particular friends, or more
general friendship for mankind.'
Of his intellectual charader the fundamental prin
ciple is good sense, a prompt and intuitive perception
of consonance and propriety. As a poet, while it is
aUowed that he does not abound in invention, he must
be admitted to excel in the other great constituent
quaUties of harmonious versification, imagerjr and
splendor pf diction, and the talent of vivifying and
brightening every subject which he touched; To
assist these powers, he possessed singular strength and
exactness of memory improved by indefatigable in
dustry, and he had acqufred and thoroughly digested
a vast aggregate of various kinds of knowledge. His
productions, indeed, form a school of EngUsh Poetry.
The reader wUl be glad to peruse, from the pen of
Dr. Johnson, a paraUel between Pope and his great
master Dryden ; a composition every way worthy of
it's subject, and which could scarcely by any other
pen have been suppUed :
' Integrity of understanding and nicety of discem*
ment were not aUotted in a less proportion to Dry
den, than to Pope. The rectitude of Dryden's mind
was sufficiently shown by the dismission of his poetical
pr^udiees, and the rejection of unnatural thoughts
and rugged numbers. But Dryden never desired to
apply aU the judgepaent that he had. He wrote.

ALEXANDER POPE. 468
and professed to write, merely for the people ; and,
when he pleased others, he contented himself Pope
was not content to satisfy : he desfred to excel ; and,
therefore, always endeavoured to do his best. He
did not court the candor, but dared the judgement,
of his reader; and, expecting no indulgence from
others, he showed none to himself For this reason,
he kept his pieces long in his hands, whUe he con
sidered and reconsidered them. It wiU seldom be
found that he altered, without adding clearness, ele
gance, and vigour. Pope had, perhaps, the judge
ment of Dryden ; but Dryden, certainly, wanted the
diUgence of Pope.
' In acquired knowledge, the superiority must be
aUowed to Diyden, whose education was more scho
lastic. His mind had a larger range, and he coUects
his images and iUustrations from a more extensive
circumference of science. Dryden knew more of
man in his general nature, and Rope in his local
manners. The notions of Dryden were formed by a
comprehensive speculation, and those of Pope by
minute attention. There is more dignity in the
knowledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that of
Pope. ' Poetry was liot the sde praise of either, for both
excelled, Ukewise, in prose : but Pope did not borrow
his prose from his predecessors. The stUe of Dryden
is capricious and varied; that of Pope is cautious and
uniform. Dryden observes the motions of his own
mind ; Pope constrains his mind to his own rules of
composition. Dryden is sometimes vehement and
rapid ; Pope is always smooth, uniform, and gentle.
Dryden's page is a natural field, rising into inequa-
Uties, and diversified by the varied exuberance of

464 ALEXANDER POPE.
abundant vegetation ; Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven
by the scythe and leveUed by the roUer.
' Of genius, that power which constitutes st, poet,
that quaUty without which judgement is cold and
knowledge is inert, that energy which coUeds, com
bines, ^amplifies, and animates, the superiority must
with some hesitation be aUowed to Dryden. It is not
to be inferred, that of this poetical vigour. Pope had
only a little, because Dryden had more : for every
other writer, since Milton, must give place to Pope;
and even of Dryden it must be said, that ' if he hSas
brighter paragraphs, he has not better poems.' Dry
den's performances were always hasty ; either excited
by some external occasion, or extorted by some do
mestic necessity : he composed without consideration,
and pubUshed without correction. What his mind
could supply at caU, or gather in one excursion, was
all that he sought, and aU that he gave. The. dilatory
caution of Pope enabled him to condense his senti
ments, to multiply his images, and to accumulate all
that study might produce, or that chance might sup
ply. If the flights of Dryden therefore are higher.
Pope continues longer on the wing. If of Dryden's
fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope's the heat is more
regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses ex
pectation, and Pope never faUs below it. Dryden is
read with frequent astonishment, and Pope with
perpetual ^eUght.

46^

DR. JONATHAN SWIFT,
DEAN aF ST. PATRICK'S, DUBLIN.*

[1667—1745.]
Of eight pens, which have been contemporaneously
or successively employed upon the life, writings, and
character of this Ulustrious man, only those of Lord
Orrery, Mr. T. Sheridan, Dr. Hawkesworth, and Dr.
Johnson rise to the dignity of biography. Dr. De-
lany, Mr. Deane Swift, and Mr.' Berkeley must be
regarded as mere apologists ; and Mrs. Pilkington, as
a retaUer simply of interesting anecdotes.
Jonathan Swift, the posthumous son of Mr. Jona
than Swift f an attorney, was bom at DubUn, No-

* Authorities. Lord Orrery, Mr. T. Sheridan, Dr. Hawkes
worth',' Dr, Johnson, Dr. Delany, and Mrs. Pilkington.
: f Though his family was an ancient one in Yorkshire, and
even boasted a Viscount (Carlingford,- created by Charles I. in
1627) among it's ancestry, he himself has been the herald, as
Lord Orrery observes, to blazon the dignity of their coat. To
a similar purport Gibbon has remarked, that " the ' Fairy
Queen ' is the richest jewel in the coronet of the Spencers." His
paternal grandfather. Vicar of Goodrich in Herefordshire, mar
ried tbe. aunt of Dryden, and by her had ten sons and three
or four daughters. Of those sons six. survived him, Godwin,'
Thomas, Dryden, William, Jonathan, and Adam. They
seem to have courted' poetical affinity. Thomas, ' who took.
orders, married the daughter of Davenant : Godwin married
VOL. V. 3 H

466 JONATffAN SWIFT,
vember SO, 1667. His mother, of the Leicestershire
famUy of Heyrick, was left in distressed cfrcumstances,
having for her whole support only an annuity of 20/.
Grief, and a bad state of healtii, ptevented her from
suckUng him; and wheii he was about a year
old, the nurse to whose care he had heen com
mitted being obUged to visit a sick relation at
Whitehaven, and feeUng herself unwUUng to part
with him, conveyed hhn on i^ipboard without the
knowledge of his mother or relations, and kept him
with her * during the three years which she spent at
that place.
From this cfrcumstance many of his friends im^
gined him to be a native of England; whQeiOtJiers
regarded him as the natural son of Sfr WUUain Tfnaplei
Ndther of these suggestions, however, can b^ true;
for although in his angry moods, when hf was pro*
voked at the ingratitude of the Irish, he was fre^-
quently heard to exclaim, " I am not of this rile
country; I am an Englishman:" in his cooler hours,
he «ever denied his extraction. On the contrary, he
frequently pointed out the house where he was bom.
The notion concerning his iUegitimacy is equaUy
false. Sfr WiUiam Temple was emplpyed si,s a mi-
feister abroad from l6e^ to 167^ ; «o that Swift's
meSther, Whb ftever «tossed the sea excejft from
Itigland to Ireland, c^cjuld net possibly have had any
liWre •profitably,; one af bis four *ives was a relaition *o tbe old
Marcbionbss df Othiond, ttpon which account -the Duke 'mads
iiim bis Attorney General in «bie county of Tippeirary, tRie
fltherfoUr were dttorneys.
* The same affection led her to teach him ra, caifefuMyv »hat
before Tie was -five years old, ^ebouldJeSdenytdftkbterin'tife
Bible. J I

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. *e7
personal intercourse with him, tiU some years after
her son's birth.
The care of his education was undertaken by his
uncle Mr. Godwin Swift, an eminent barrister, who
^though he had chUdren of his own) received his
mother,* likewise, and his infant sister under bis pro
tection, and thus became a guardian to the whole
femUy. This gentleman, when his nephew was six
years of age, sent hun to school at Kilkenny?
and eight years afterward, entered him, with a
6maU aUowance however, at Trinity CoUege, DubUn,
under the tuition of Mr. St. Ashe, :.a scholar of
considerable science. There Swift Uved in perfed
regularity, and in an entfre obedience to the statutes^
but the moroseness of his temper, exasperated fey the
penuriousness of his eldest uncle, and the total neg*
leet of the rest, rendered him generaUy unaccept
able to his companions; so that he was little re
garded, and less beloved. Neither were the acade
mical exerdses agreeable to his genius. Logic and
Mjetaphysijcs he freld-in the utmost contempt-; and,
if be paid some ^ight attention to Mathematics and
Natnral PhilcBophy, it was chiefly for the purpose
of tuming them into ridicule.
His favourite studies were History and Poetry, in
which he made a great progress. To other branches
of science he had so Uttle appUed, that when he ap
peared at the usual period as a candidate for the
degree of B. A., he was set aside on account of in-
si^ficiency ; and at last obtained his admission spe-
ciali gratid, a phrase which in the University of
f She subsequently quitted his family, and- retired to Lei
cester, where she "found support from ber own.
2 H 2

468 JONATHAN SWIFT,
DubUn impUes the highest reproach. Ffred with
indignation at this treatment, he resolved to pursue
his studies at Oxford. He did not however imme
diately migrate, but continued in his original society
for two or three additional years, when he was
admitted ad eundem An the EngUsh University, 'and
entering himself of Hart HaU (now Hertford Col
lege) took his degree of M. A., in 1692.* . Here,
in, order to recover his lost time, he studied eight
hours daijy for seven years. This part of his storyj
remarks Dr. Johnson, weU deserves to be remem
bered : it may afford useful admonition and powerful
en,couragement to men, whose abUities have been
made for a time, useless by their passions or pleasures;
and who having tost one part of Ufe in idleness, are
tempted to throw away the remainder-in despafr.
- In 1688, his uncle had faUen into a kind of>le-
thargy, which deprived him by degrees of his speech
and, memory; and his afiafrs being in great disorder, he
was no, longer capable of contributing even his fornier
mite of service to his brother's famUy.f In this
distressed situation. Sir WUliam Temple | generously
stuped in to thefr, reUef, and undertook the.education
of young Swift at the University. This act of
* There are not quite two months between the date, of hj^.
testimonium, sent him from Dublin to Oxford, and his taking his
rnaster's degree. In this document the ignominious words,
speddli gratid, were either by the influence of his uncle William
omitted, or interpreted as a compliment to his merit.
t The eldest son Willoughby, however, sent him a present
of a larger sum, than ever he had been master of before.
" X Whose lady was related to Swift's mother; and whose
father, Master of the Rolls in Ireland, had been the intimate
friend of his uncle Godwin. • ' - '
It ought not here to be omiUed, that another of his father's

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 469
fkiendship. subsequently received, as abovementioned,
an iUiberal interpretation.
Upon quitting Oxford, Swift went to reside with
Sir WiUiam as his domestic companion; and after
passing two years in that situation, contracted a long
and dangerous iUness by eating an immoderate quan
tity of fruit. To this surfeit (of which he in vain
endeavoured to obviate the effect by a journey to
Ireland) he was frequently heard to ascribe that gid
diness in his head, which with intermissions some
times of a longer and sometimes of a shorter conti
nuance, pursued him to his grave.
But he continued indefatigable in his studies, and
to prevent the loss of health too often consequent upon
sedentary habits, used to run up a hiU near the house
and down again, a space of nearly half a mUe in a
time of about six minutes, every two hours. Copious
extracts from Cyprian, Irenaeus, Sleidan's 'Commen
taries,' and P. PaoU's ' History of the CouncU of
Trent,' which were found among his papers, g.ttest
not only the dfrection, but also the extent of his
lucubrations at this period.
In compUance with the advice of physicians, when
he vyas sufficiently recovered to be moved, he went
to Ireland to try the effects of his native afr : but,
finding that he derived the greatest benefit from the
exercise of travelling, he speedily returned into
England, and was again affectionately received by
Temple at Sheen.*
brothers, Mr. William Swift, assisted him when at Oxford by
donations, if not more liberal in amount, more gracious in
manner, and thus' engaged his warmest gratitude.
*, When Temple was consulted,. by the Earl of Portland, about
tlie expediency of complying with a bill for making parliaments

470 JONATHAN sWiFT,
. Here Swift had frdquent conversations ivi^ Kitif
WUUam, on that Prince's visits to his patron, in
one of which he was taught how to cut asparagus
in the Dutch way, and in anothei- offered a cap-
tainCy of horse : but at that time he had resolved
within his own mind to enter into the church; and
throughout his Ufe his resolutions, once fixed, were
imnwveable. About this time, he assisted Sfr WilUato in re-
vising his works. He, Ukewise corrected, his own
' Tale of a Tub,' a sketch erf tvhich he had dfawn
up whUe he was a student at Trinity CoUege* Dub
Un.* He attempted also some Odes to Temple,
triennial, be sent Swift to Kensington with a statement, proving
that ' the proposal involved nothing dangerous to royal power.'
Sut the pfedeterttiinatiBn of thfe King rendered both the argu-
rtients, and the art with which they were displayed, ineffectual.
The consequence of this wrong step, be observes, was extremely
unba^jpy ; for although it is esteemed a part of the royal prero
gative to refuse passing a bill, the learned in the law infer differ
ently frohi the expression used at the coronation, by which the
SoVerfeign- bindeth himself to " consent to all laws qvses ml^K
elegerit." * At first, however, he hiad limited the communication of it
to his chum Mr. Waring j the brother of the lady who received
his earliest juvenile addresses, and with whom he romantically
COri^sponded under the name of ' Varina.' This connexion, sub-
sequently broken off by an unloverJike and dictatorial epistle,
occasioned (it has been surmfeed) his mysterious conduct toward
Miss Johnson. This composition, as a curious species of love-
letter, is here subjoined :
"Madam, "DubUn, May 4; 1700.
" I ato extremely mtty at the account you giVe of yOUf
health ; for my uncle told me, he f<»ind you in appearance better
than you had been in Some years, and I was in hopes yfliti had
still continued so, God forbid 1 sbpuM ever be the wcasion of
oreating more troubles to you, as you seem to intimate ! "Hie

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 471
to Ws Sovereign, and to a set of phUosophers c^Uing
themselves the * Athenian Sodety,' in. which he
letter you desired me to answer, I have frequently read, and
thought I bad replied to every part of it tbat required : how
ever, since you are pleased to repeat those particular^ wbereia
you desire satisfaction, I shall endeavour to give it you as wel)
as I am able. You would know, what gave my temper tbat
sudden turn, as to alter the stile of my letters since I last came
over. If there has been that alteration you observe, I have told
you the cause abundance of times. I had used a thousand en
deavours and arguments, to get you from the company and place
you are in ; both on the account of your health and humour,
which I thought were like to suffer very much ill such an air,
and before such examples. AU I had in answer from you, was
Iiothing but agr^at deal of arguing, and sometimes in a stile so
very imperious as I thought might have been spared, when I
reflected how much you had been in the wrong. The o&et
thing you would know is, whether this change of stile be owing
to the thoughts of a new mistress. I declare, upon the word of
a Christian and a gentleman, it is not; neither had J. ever
thoughts of being married to any other person but yourself. I
bad ever an opinion, that you had a great sweetness of nature
and humour ; and whatever appeared to the contrary, I looked
upon it only as a thing put on, as necessary before a lover : but
I have since observed in abundance of your lettafs such marks
of a severe indifference, that I began to think it was hardly pos
sible for one of my few good qudities to please you. I never
knew any so hard to be worked upon, even in matters wbere
the interest and concern are entirely your own ; all whichi I
say, passed easily while we were in the state of formalities and
ceremony: but since that, there is no other way of accounting
for this untractable behaviour in you, but by imputing it .td a
want of common esteem and friendship for me.
When J desired an account of your fortunie, I had no such
design as you pretend to imagine. I have told you many a time,
that in England it was in the power of any young fellow of com
mon sense to get a larger fortune than ever you pretended to :
I asked, in order to consider whether it were sufficient, with the
help of my poor income, to make one of your humoiJir ^asy in a
married state, I think it comes to almost a hundred pounds a

472 JONATHAN SWIFT,
aimed at the strained Pindaric flights,, recently by
Cowley and others brought into vogue. Upon the
year : and I think, at the same time, that no young women in
the world of the same income would dwindle away their health
and life in such a sink, and among sucb family-conviersation ;
neither have all your letters been once ableto persuade me, that
you have the least value for me, because you so little regarded
what I so often said upon that matter. The dismal account you
say I have given you of my livings [those of Laracor and Rath-
beggan] I can assure you to be a true one ; and, since it is a
dismal one, even in your own opinion, you can best draw conse
quences from it. The place,' where Dr. Bolton livedj is upon a
living which he keeps with tbe deanery : but tbe place of resi
dence for that they have given me is within a mile of a town
called Trim, twenty miles from hence; and there is no other
way, but to hire a house at Trim,' or build one on the spot : the
first is hardly to be done, and the other I am too poor to per
form at present For coming down to Belfast, it is' what I
cannot yet think of, my attendance is scf close, and so much
required of me. But our government sits very loose, and I be
lieve will change in a few months : whether our part will partake
in the change, I know not, though I am very apt to believe it;
and then I shall be at leisure for a short journey. But I hope
your other friends, more powerful than I, will before that time
persuade you from the place where you are. I desire my service
to your mother, in return for her remembrance : but for any
other dealings that way, I entreat your pardon ; and I think I
have more cause to resent your desires of ine in that cause, than
you have to be angry at my refusals. If you like such company
and conduct, much good do you with them ! My education has
been otherwise. Myuncle Adam asked me one day in private,
as by direction, what my designs were in relation to you; because
it might be a hindrance to you, if I did not proceed ? The answer
I gave him, which I suppose he has sent you, was to this effect :
" That I hoped I was no hindrance to you ; because the reason
ybu urged against an union with me was drawn from your indis
position, which stiir continued: that you, also, thought my for
tune not sufficient, which is neithei: at present in a condition to
offer you : that, if your health and my fortune were as they ought,
I would prefer you above all your sex ; but tbat, in the present

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 473
perusal of these verses, Dryden (it is said) pronounced,
' Cousin Swift, you will never be a poet.' Hence
condition of both, I thought it was against your opinion, and
would certainly make you unhappy : that, had you any other
offers which your friends or yourself thought mpre to your ad
vantage,- I should think I were vei-y unjust ito be an obstacle in
your way." Now for what concerns my fortune, you have
answered it. I desire, therefore, you will let me know if your
health be otherwise than it was when you told me the doctors
advised you against marriage, as what would certainly hazard
your life. Are they, or you, grown of another opinion in this
particular ? Are you in a condition to manage domestic affairs;
with an income of less (perhaps) than three hundred pounds a
year? Haye you such an inclination to my person and-huraour,
as to comply with my desires and way of living, and endeavour
to make us both as happy as you can? Will you be ready to
engage in those methods I shall direct for the improvement bf
your mind, so as to make us entertaining company for each
other, without being miserable when we are neither visiting or
visited ? Can you bend your love, and esteem, and indifference to
others the same way as I do mine ? Shall I have so much power
in your heart, or you so much government of your passions, as
to grow in good humour upon my approach, though provoked
by a — ? Have you so much good nature, as to endeavour by
soft words to smooth any rugged humour occasioned by the
cross accidents of life? Shall the place, wherever your husband
is thrown, be more welcome than courts and cities without him ?
In short, these are some of the necessary methods to please meu
who, like me, are deep-read in the world; and, to a person thus
made, I should be proud in giving all due returns toward
-a-raaking ber happy. These are the questions I have always re
solved to propose to her, with whom I meant to pass my life;
and, whenever you can heartily answer them in the affirmative, I
shall be blessed to have you in my arms, without regarding
whether your person be beautiful or your fortune large. Clean
liness in the first, and competency in the other, is all I look for.
I desire, indeed, a plentiful revenue, but would rather it should
be iof my own ; though I should bear from a wife to be re
proached for the greatest.
I have said allT can possibly say in answer to any part of

47* J6NATHAN SWIFT,
the vindidive rancor, with which greatly to liis own
discredit both as a moralist and a critic, Swift per
petually attacked the reputation of that distinguished
writer.* His patron's conversation naturaUy tuming upon
poUtical subjeds, under his able guidance Swift
acquired a competent knowledge of pubUc affairs.
Suspecting however, at length, that Temple neg.
lected to provide for him merely in order to keep
him in his famUy, he resentfuUy left. hun in 1694,
retured to Ireland, and took co'ders.
Notwithstanding this quarrel, Sfr WiUiam recom
mended him in the strongest terms to Lord Capel,
then Lord Deputy, who gave him a prebend.f . But
Swift soon grew weary of his preferment. In itself
incondderable, it lay at so great a distance from the
metropoUs, that it absolutely deprived him of all the
society in which he intensely deUghted. He was
glad, therefore, to resign it X in favour of a fiiend (a ,
poor curate, who with a numerous famUy of cluli:en
your letter, and in telling you my clear opinion as to matters
between us. I singled you out at first from the rest of women;
and I expect riot to be used like a common lover. When you
think fit to send me an answer to this without — , I shall theft
approve myself, by all means you shall command. Madam, your
most faithful humble servant.
* See, particularly, his « Battle of the Books.'
t Of Kilroot in the diocese of Connor, a northern district,
worth about 100/. per ann. The highest object of bis ambitioh
originally was, the chaplaincy of the Factory at Lisbon !
X In this surrender, we are informed by Mr. Sheridan, he felt
« exquisite pleasure : ' nor is it to be wondered at ; since it was
the first opportunity he ever had of letting loose that spirit of
generosity and benevolence, whose greatness and vigour, whe^
pent up in his own breast by poverty and dependence, se^ed
pnly as an evil spirit to torment bii|i.

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 47S
had only 40/. per ann.) and to revisit Sr Willkm
Temjde, who, et^isidering his rdum as an ad of
kindness to him in the close of Ms days, was not
only sincerely reconcUed to him for the remaimng
fbur years ©f Ins Ufe,^ but also left him by wUl a
eonsiderable legacy In money, supposed to have been
about 500/., and the care and emolument of pubUsh
ing his posthumous works.
During his second residence with Sir WUUam, in
which he took upon himself the office of preceptor
to his niece, he became acquainted with Miss John
son, the daughter of that gentleman's Steward, sub
sequently celebrated in his works by the name of
SteUa. She was then about fourteen, exqiusitely
beautiful, and of such fine talents, that he found
great pleasure in cultivating and improving her mind
along with that of his pupU.
Soon after Temple's death, he came to London,
and seized the earliest opportunity of transmitting a
memorial to King WilUam, reminding him of a pro
mise made to his patron, * that Mr. Swift should
have the first vacancy which happened among the
prebendaries of Westminster or Canterbury.' This
m,emorial had no effect: Swift, indeed, himself sub
sequently declared, that ' he beUeved the King never
received it.' After a long and fitutless attendance at
WhitehaU, he reluctantly gave up aU thoughts of a
settlement in England.
Another sensible mortification, likewise, determined
* As a testimony of this revived friendship. Swift wrote his
» Battle ofthe Books,' of which Temple was the bero, founded
on an ingenious French Tract, entitled * Histoire Po'etique
de la Guerre neweetlement declarSe entre les Awims et Je»
Modernes.'

476 JONATHAN SWIFT,
him to quit the kingdom: .he had inscribed Temple's
Works tp the King; but the dedication was neglected,'
nor did his Majesty ever afterward take the least
notice of him.
He, therefore, compUed with an invitation from.
the Earl of Berkeley, appointed one of the Lords
Justices in Ireland,* to attend him as his Chaplain
and Private Secretary; and, in conformity tp his
engagement, accompanied his principal during the
journey from Waterford to Dublin. But one Bushe
had by this time insinuated himself into his Lord
ship's favour, and persuaded him, that ' the secretary-,
ship was improper for a clergyman, to whom church-.
preferments atone could be either suitable, or bene-
fidal.' Accordingly, with some sUght apology. Swift
was divested bf his office, which was given . to
Bushe. ;
Of this treatment the discarded Secretary expressed
his sensibiUty in a satirical copy of verses, entitled,:
• The Discovery.' During Lord Berkeley^ .govern-,
ment, however, the rectory of Agher with the vicar-.
ages of Laracor and Rathbeggan, in the diocese of
Meath, ' worth jointly about" 260/. per ann., were
* Lord Galway was tbe other. In 1700, the deanery of
Derry was, through Bushe's influence, refused to him by Lord
Berkeley ; and the two rectories mentioned below, of less than'
half it's value, were given him in it's stead. This deanery, in
consequence of Swift's having indignantly . declined to pay. the
Secretary a large bribe, was bestowed upon another chaplain of
Lord Berkeley's, Dr. Bolton, who was subsequently made in
rapid succession Bishop of Clonfert, Bishop of Elphin, and
Archbishop of Casbel. In his last see, he became a most zealous
patriot. See Sheridan's Life qf Swift, ii; 171., Nichols' edit.'
12mo. 1803. About this time. Swift's humorous vein of poetry:
began to display itself in several little pieces, as ' The Humble
Petition of Mr, Frances Harris,' &c.
7

DEAN OF ST, PATRICK'S. 477
bestowed upon him. '¦ These .were the only churfch-
preferments, which he enjoyed, tiU he was appointed
¦Dean of St. Patrick's.
' After taking possession of his Uvings, he went to
•reside at Laracor, and gave pubUc notice to his pa
rishioners, that ' he would read prayers once every
Wednesday and Friday.' * Upon the subsequent
Weidnesday, the bell was rung, and the Redor at
tended in his desk : when after having sat some time,
finding the congregation to consist only of himself
and his clerk Roger, he began with great composure,
and with a turn peculiar to himself ; 'Dearly beloved
Roger, the Scripture moveth you and me in sundry
places,' and proceeded regularly through the whole
service. ' This trifling circumstance is only mentioned
to show, that he could not resist displaying his
humour whenever an opportunity presented itself.
Soon after his settlement at Laracor, he invited to
Ireland Miss Johnson, at that time eighteen, to whom
Sfr WUliam Temple in consideration of her father's
services had left 1000/. With her came a lady re
lated to the Temple famUy, of the name of Dingley,
whose whole fortune was an annuity of 27/. To
. * The reverential manner, in which he ' said grace ' at table,
lias been properly recorded. His words were few upon the oc
casion, but they were invariably pronounced with great emphasis
and fervor, " with, his hands clasped in each other and lifted to
bis breast;" and though, by bis frequent absences from his cures,
he appears to have delayed the execution of his professional, re
solutions of excelling, he used to declare that ' he did not totally
renounce it tUl- his acquaintance with Harley :' and of his sub
sequent attachment to politics he constantly spoke with ^indubi
table signs of penitence and regret. He complained, indeed,
that from the time of bi§ political controversies be could only
• preach pamphlets.' . , .y

478 JONATHAN SWII^T,
these two friends he gave his leism'e and his confi
dence, bnt they never resided in the same house wiUi
him. During his absence, they ocaipied his parson-
age; bat upon his return they invariably removed to
a lodging, or to the house of Dr. Raymond, a neigh-
bffliring clergyman at Trim. Ambition, not love,
however, was his predominant passion.
Dining the Ufe of his mother, who resided at Lei
cester, he scarcely ever failed to pay her ati annua!
-visit. His manner of travelUng, upon these occasions,
was as singular as his other actions. He often went
in a waggon ; but more frequently he walked to Lei
cester, Londrai, or any other part of England. It
was his general custom to dine with waggoners',
jostlers, &ic. and to lodge in houses where he found
written over the^oor, 'Lodgings for a penny ;' though
he usuaUy bribed the maid with sixpence, for a sepa
rate bed and clean sheds. He deUghted, indeed, in
scenes of low life. But Johnson invidiously suggests,
that this conduct might have arisen from *' a passioti
which seems to have been -deep fixed in his heart, the .
love of a shiUing." *
* Elsewhere however, after observing that " in bis economy
he practised a peculiar and offensive parsimony, without disguise
or apology," and tbat " the practice of saving being once ne
cessary -became habitual, growing first ridiculous and at last de
testable," he adds ; " but bis avarice, though it might exctode
pleasure, was never suffered to encroach upon bis virtue. He was
frugal by inclination, but liberal by principle ; and if the purpose
to which he destined his little accumulation be remembered, with
bis distribution of occasional charity, it will perhaps appear tbat
be orfly liked one mode of expense better than another, and-saved
merely that he liiigbt have something to give. He did not grow
rieh b^ injuriflg his successors, but left both Laracor and the
deanery more valuable than he fijund them.; — With all this talk
of his covetousness and his generosity, it should be r«membeved>

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 479
In 1701, Swift took his ^iegree of D.D. and upon
the accession of Queen Anne came ov^er to England.
The ministers of that period, it must be recorded
to thefr hcmour, under whatever tiUbs dis&igmshed^
were invariably encouragers of learning and patrons
of learned men. Amidst the crowd of wits, who
haUed and dignified the new Court, yet superior to
the rest, appeared Dr. Swift. In a mixtnie of those
two jarring parties, caUed Whig and Tory, consisted
her M^esty's first ministry; Imt the {nindpal aufho*
rity and influence was chiefly engrossed by the Whiga.
The Queen hersdf* whose heart naturaUy incUned
toward thefr adversaries, remained for several years
an unwUUng prisoner in thefr hands, tUl H-arley at
length hroke her chains, and for the remainder of
her Ufe surrounded her with a sd of Tories tinder
the conduct of the Duke of Ormond and himself.
Swift, who had heen educaied with Whigs,* at
least with such as are ranged under that title, had
commenced poUtical author in 1701; when he pub
Ushed a ' Diseourse on the Contests and Dissensions
between the Nobles and Commons in Athens and
Rome, with the Consequences they had upon both
that he was never rich. The revenue of his deanery was bat
much more than 700s2. a year. Besides, liie bad suffered enough
in early life from tbe want of mpney, to justify his subsequent
care in the disbursement. It should not be forgotten, that die
first 5007. which he could call his own he most judiciously, as
well as xjharitably, lent out in small sums to diligent and neces
sitous tradesmen, to be repaid weekly at ^«. and 4«. witfiout in
terest; »He TOsde a rule to himself, to give but one piece at a
time, and therefore always stored his pocket with coins of difl
ferent viilue.
» His motives for quitting then: ranks kppear throughout liis
works.

480 JONATHAN SWIFT,
Steates,' drawn iip with the iriost disinterested and
patriotic feeUng in defence of King WilUam and his
ministers, . Portland,, Orford, Somers, and Halifax,
against the violent proceedings in the House of
Commons.* . ; . .,
, .From this time to the year 1708, Lord Orrery in
forms us, he di4 not produce any poUtical pamphlet.
In 1708, beside other works, he wrote an ' Argument
against abolishing Christianity,' a very happy and ju
dicious irony, as it is pronounced by Dr. Johnson, who
selects from it the foUpwing passage : " If Christianity
were once aboUshed, how. could the freethinkers, the
gtrpng.rea^oners, and the men of profound leaming be
Uable to find another subject,;SO calculated in aU points
whereon to display, thefr abUities' ? What wonderful
productioji? of. wit shpuld we be deprived of froni
those, whose genius by continual pradice hath beeri
whoUy turned upoii raiUery and invectives against re
Ugion, and, who would therefore never be able to shine
or distinguish. themsdves upon any other subject? .We
are daUy complaining of the; great decUneof wit
among us, and wpiUd take away the greatest, perhaps
the only topic we have left. Who would ever; have
suspected AsgiU fpr a wit, or Toland for a phUosopher^
if the inexhaustible stock of Christianity had not been
at hand to provide them with materials ?, What other
subject, through aU art or nature, could have produced
Tindal for a profound author, or furnished him with'
readers ? It is the wise choice of the subject, that
alone: adorns and distinguishes the writer. For, had
a hundred such pens as these freen employed on the,
* It was the only anonymous piece, which Swift ever expli
citly avowed as bis own production. ;,

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 481
side oif reUgion, they would have immediately sunk
into sUence and obUvion."
His other works of this date were, his ' Sentiments
of a Church of England Man,' his ridicule of Astro
logy under the name of ' Bickerstaff,' * and his De
fence ofthe ' Sacramental Test.' In 1709, appeared
his ' Project for the Advancement of ReUgion,' ad
dressed to his patroness. Lady Berkeley : after which,
he went over to Ireland, ahd spent much of his time
with Addison, then Secretary tothe Earl of Wharton,
Lord. Lieutenant.
His intimacy with Harley commenced, as may be
deduced from his writings, in October, 1710. In a
Poem composed in 1713, he says,
* 'Tis, let me see, three years and more
(October next will make it four)
Since Harley bid me first attend.
And chose me for an humble friend.' f
The business, which first introduced him to this
nobleman, was a commission sent to him by the Pri
mate of Ireland, to soUcit of the Queen that the Irish
* This became so popular, that Steele borrowed the name for
his- 'Tatler.'
•|- Again,. in another poem ofthe same year,
• My Lord would carry on the jest,
Apd down to Windsor take, his guest.
" Swift much admires the place and air,
" And longs to be a canon there."
" A canon ! that's a place too mean :
" No, Doctor, you shall be a Dean." '
From this last quot^ion, to which might easily be added many
pthei-s, it appears tbat a settlement in England was the constant
object of bis ambition ; so that his promotion to a deanery in
Ireland was rather a disappmntment, than a reward,
VOL. V. 2 I

482 JONATHAN SWIFT,
Clergy might be released from the Twentieth Penny.
and Ffrst Fruits. Previously, however, to his first
interview with Harley, he took care to get himself
represented as ' a person who had been UI used by
the preceding administration, because he would not
go aU lengths with them.' The new minister* re
ceived him with open arms, speedUy accomplished
his business, bade him ' come often to see him pri
vately,' and told him, that ' he must bring him to
the knowledge of Mr. St. John.'f After this, SwUt.
quickly became acquainted with the rest of the;
. * All his distinction, howev.er, he appears principally to have
enjoyed only as it was participated .with bis beloved Stella ; to
whom he sent a Journal regularly dated every fortnight, during
the whole time of his connexion with Queen Anne's Ministry,
from September 2, 1710 to June 6, 1713. From the whole of this
it appears, that ' though ambition pressed him into a life of bustle,
the wish for a life of ease was often returning.' It should be re
corded to bis honour, that during bis whole connexion with the
great, he would never suffer himself to be treated but as an eqbal.
He refused to introduce Parnell to Harley, though requested by
the latter, on the principle that ' a man of genius was a character
superior to a lord in office:' and indignantly returned the Trea
surer a draft of 50l., which had been sent by his private Secretary;
though he subsequently accepted a draft for lOOOZ. upon the Ex
chequer, of which the payment however was intercepted by the
Queen's death. His spirit, therefore, , does not appear to have
been' superior to personal views. He loved money, indeed, and
hankered after preferment : but it was the dictate of that consti
tutional and unsubmitting pride, which governed all" his actions.
This overleaping of the barriers, which, custom has established
between one order of society and another, was by himself and
his admirers termed 'greatness of soul.' But he should have re
membered, that a great soul never usurps what a lawful claimant
may take away. He, that encroaches on another's dignity, piits
himself in his power : he is either repelled with helpless indignity;
or endured by clemency and condescension.
f Subsequently Lord Bolingbroke.

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 483
cabinet, who appear to have courted him with un
common assiduity.*
Henceforward to the death of the Queen, the
most vigorous and important period of his Ufe, we
find him constantly fighting on th^fr side, and main
taining their cause in aU the various warfare of
pamphlets, poems, and weekly papers. In this conflict
of talents Addison, Burnet, Steele, Rowe, and Con
greve marshaUed themselves on the side of the Whigs :
the chief Tory champions were BoUngbroke, Atter
bury, Prior, Freind, and King. The latter had afready
pubUshed twelve numbers of the ' Examiner,' when
Swift joined thefr party. That paper was instantly
consigned to his sole management, and within the
ensuing six months he wrote thirty-two additional
numbers, when he left it to be continued by Mrs.
Manley and other hands. In 1711, he pubUshed his
* Johnson seems to dpubt a little, whether he was ever fully
admitted to Harley's confidence, thpugh be owns he was one of
the sixteen ministers, or agents of the ministry, who met weekly
•at each other's houses, and were united by the name of ' Brothers.'
He appears, indeed, to have sympathised with the October Club,
a number of Tories (about a hundred) sent from the country to i
parliament, who called loudly for more changes and stronger
efforts than Harley, not quick by nature and slower by irre
solution, was disposed to make. Harley was " a Tory only by
necessity, or for convenience ; and, when he had power in his
hands, had no settled purpose for which he should employ it.
Forced to gratify to a certain degree the Tories who supported
him, but unwilling to make his reconcilement to the Whigs ut
terly desperate, he corresppnded at once with the two expectants
of the crown, and kept (as has been observed) the succession
undetermined. Not Jcno wing what to do, he did nothing ; and,
with the fate of a double dealer, at last he lost his power, but
kept his enemies." 'l-
21 2

*84 ' JONATHAN SWIFT,
' Letter to the October Club,' which put an end
to thefr unconstitutional cabals. The year foUowr
ing, appeared his Letter to Harley on 'Correcting,
Improving, and Ascertaining the EngUsh Tongue,
of which Johnson . speaks with: Uttle commendation ;
and, also, hia celebrated poUtical tract, entitled ' The
Conduct of Ihe AUies,' Of this latter pubUcation, of
which the object was to persuade the nation to a
peace, in an age far less populous and book-buying
than the present eleven thousand copies were sold in
less than a month ! To it's propagation, indeed, no
agency of power or of influence was wanting. It was
fpUowed by his ' Barrier Treaty,' and his insulting
' Remarks on the Bishop of Sarum's IntrPduction to
the Thfrd Volume of his HistCMcy of the Reformation.'
By these labours, though his wit (in Dr. Johnson's
judgement) was suGcessfuUy. encountered by that of
Addison, he certainly turned the stream of popularity
against the Whigs, and appears for a time to have,
dictated the political opinions of the EngUsh nation^
But, notwithstanding his services, he remained with
out preferment tUl 1713, when he was made Dean pf
St. Patrick's.
, There is great reason to ina^igiije,, that the temper
of Swift occasioned his EngUsh friends to wish him
promoted at a distance. His spirit was ever un-
tradable, and the motions of his genius irregular.
He a^syimed the afrs rathei: of a patron, than of a
friend ; affected to dictate, instead of advising ; and
was elated with the appearance of enjoying ministerial
confidence. Reflexions of this kind wiU account for his miss
ing an EngUsh mitre, though he himself ascrihed his

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 485
disaJ»pointment to . a joint appUcation of Archbishop
Sharp, whbm he caUs ' the harnUiess tool of others'
hate,' and the Duchess of Somerset.
The Prelate, according to Swift's own accoimt,
had represented him to the Queen, in consequence
of his ' Tale of a Tub,' as ' not a Christian ; ' and
the Duchess, by producing his bitter copy of verses
called the 'Windsor Prophecy,' had confirmed the
royal displeasure. Her Majesty, therefore, gave away
the bishopric contrary to her first intentions. Sv^ift,
hPwever, kept hifnself within some tolerable boiSnds,
whUe he spoke of his Sovereign ; but his indignation
knew no Umits, when he mentioned his two confede-.
rated foes.
His ' PubUc Spfrit of the Whigs,' printed about
this time in answer to Steele's 'Crisis,' animadverted
with so much severity and contempt upon the Scot
tish nation, that the Sixteen Peers in a body went
np to the Queen, and demanded reparation. A Pro
clamation was accordingly issued, offering 300/. for
the discovery Pf the author, and orders were issued
to prosecute the printer; but, by some management,
the storm was averted.
If this indecorous but witty work however, distin
guished as it is by a vehemence and rapidity of mind,
a copiousness of images, and a vivacity of diction,
which he subsequently either never possessed or never
exerted,* lost him a mitre, it gained him the friends
ship of Addison, Arbuthnot, Berkeley, Congreve,
Garth, Gay, PameU, Prior, and Pope,
He had Uttle reaspn to rejoice in the land, where
* As beirig unlike Dr. Swift's general strain of composition,
and for other reasons, it has been ascribed to Lord Somers by hia
biograpbdr Mr. Cooksey. ;''.-.

486 JONATHAN SWIFT,
his lot had faUen : for upon his arrival; in Ireland, to
take possession of his deanery, he found the violence
of party reigning in that kingdom to the highest de
gree. The rabble had been taught to regard him as
a Jacobite ; and they even carried their detestation so
far, as to throw stones at him on his way through
the streets. His chapter, also, received him with
extreme reluctance. He was thwarted in aU his mea
sures, avoided as a pestUence,, opposed as an invader,
and marked out as a pubUc enemy. Fewer talents,
and less firmness, must have yielded to such opposi
tion. But so strange are the revolutions of the world,
that he Uved to govern this very rabble with absolute
sway. His first step was, to reduce to obedience his re
verend brethren of St. Patrick's ; in which he suc
ceeded so effectuaUy, that shortly after his arrival not
a single member of that body offered to contradict
him, even in trifles. On the contrary, they aU held
him in the highest veneration. Having estabUshed
himself in his deanery, by passing through certain
customs and formaUties, or (to use his ovra words)
 ' Through all vexations,

Patents,, instalments, abjurations.
First-fruits, and tenths, and chapter-treats.
Dues, payments, fees, demands, and  cheats,'
in the beginning of the year 1714, he returned to
England. There he found his great friends at the
helm, particularly Oxford and BoUngbroke, much
disunited among themselves, and their royal mistress '
sinking under the joint operations of distress and de
cay. After fruitlessly exerting his skiU to effect a re
concUiation in the cabinet, he saw that ' aU was lost,'
and retfred to a friend's house at Letcombe in Berk-

DEAN OP ST. PATRICK'S. 487
shiife, where he wrote his 'Free Thou^ts on the pre
sent State of Affafrs.' The Queen's death, however,
not only put a stop to it's pubUcation, but closing aU
his views in England, sent him back to his Irish
deanery oppressed with grief and discontent.
In a letter to Gay he observes : " Nothing so much
contributed to my ease, as the turn of affairs after the
Queen's death ; by which aU my hopes being cut off,
I could have no ambition left, unless 1 would have
been a greater rascal than happened to suit with my
temper. I, therefore, sat down quietly at my morsel,'
adtUng only thereto a pririciple of hatred to aU suc
ceeding measures and ministries by way of sauce to
reUsh my meat." *' I have seen a letter," says Ar
buthnot to Pope, " from Dean Swift : he keeps up
his noble spfrit; and, though Uke a man knocked
down, you may behold him stUl with a stern counte
nance, and aiming a blow at his adversaries " " His'
first recourse," Dr. Johnson informs us, " was to piety.
The thoughts of death rushed upon him at this time
with such incessant importunity, that they took pos
session of his mind, when he first waked, for many
years together."
From 1714 to 1720, his spfrit of pftUtics and
patriotism he closdy confined within his own breast.
His attendance upon the public service of the church
was oiniriterrupted : and, indeed, regularity was pecu
Uar to him in aU his actions.
His works, during this period, are few in number,
and of small importance : Poems to SteUa, and Trifles
to Dr. Sheridan, fiil up a great portion of the interval.
Part of it, however, as Lord Orrery supposes, he de-'
v.oted to ' GuUiver's Travels.' His mind was, like
wise, fuUy occupied by an affecting private incident :

488 JONATHAN SWIFT,
In 1713, he had formed an intimacy with ^ youngr
lady in London, to whom he became a kind of pre
ceptor ; she was the daughter of a Dutch merdiwli
of the name of Vanhomrigh, who had settled anddie^
at DubUn, This lady, with a passion for reading and
with a taste for poetry, conceived such a love for
Swift, that she at last even made him an offer oi,
marriage, Upon which occasion he wrote his poem c$
' Cadenus and Vanessa.' * On her mother's death.
in 1714, she with her sister foUdwed him to Ireland,
where he frequently visited them, keeping. up a Ute-j
rary correspondence with his lover. 'After his mar-,
riage, however^ with SteUa iri 17l6j his visits becamei
less frequent, and Vanessa now agairi'pressed him t»
accept. her hand; but he only raUied her, an<i stiU
avoided a positive denial. Uppn thi% She wrote to
SteUa, to inqufre, "WTiether she was married to him,,
or not? 'Her letter was answeited in the affirmative,
and then sent to Swift. He imriiediately rode to Gel-
bridge, Miss Vanhomrigh's country-seat, and rushing
into her apartment indignantly flung down hei; own
note upon the table without speakirig a word. It
proved her death-warrant ; she survived it only; a few
weeks. Sfce was sufficiently coniposed, however, to
cancel a wUl which she had made in his favour, and
to leave her whole fortune (amounting to nearly
8000/.) to her two executors. Dr. Berkeley the cele-
* This Poem, in which Cadenus (the anagraim of Decanus,
' tbe Dean' ) had proclaimed her excellence, and confessed his
love, Vanessa ordered by her will to be published, with all' their
letters, to the great distress of Swift and Stella; who however,
upon a stranger's observing that ' Vanessa must have been an
extraprdinary person to inspire such a poem,' replied, "It was
well known the Dean could write wisely upon a broomstick."
The letters, at the desire of Dr. Sbferidan, wefe suppressed.

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 489
Brated bi^op of Cloyne," and Mr. MarshaU a coun-
seUor at law.
He now occupied his leisure with some historical
attempts on the ' Change of the Ministry,' and the
'Conduct of the Ministry ; ' -and finished his ' His
tory of the Four last Years of Queen Anne.' This
was pubUshed after his death by Dr. Lucas, but faUed
to satisfy the curibsity which it had excited.
He opened his house, Ukewise, twice a week to the
pubUc, upon which occasions Miss Johnson regulated
the entertainment, though she partook of it onlyas
a guest. On the remaining days, with a view first
of discharging sPme incumbrances, and afterward of
saving money, he dined at a stated price with Mr.
Worral, a clergyman of his cathedral.
In 1716, after sixteen years of intimacy, he wasi
privately married to Miss Johnson by Dr. Ashe,
Bishop of Clogher, to whom he had been a pupU
in coUege, and who, as a common fiiend of both, as-
sis[ted in settling the conditions of this extraordinary
union. But they stUl continued to Uve in separate
houses as before ; nor did Mrs. Swift ever lodge in the
deanery, except when her husband was seized with
a fit of giddiness.
In 1720, he re-assumed the character of a poUtical
writer; A^sraaU pamphlet, upon the Irish manufec-
tories, was supposed to be his first essay, in Ireland,
in that species of writing. This tract, recpmmending
the universal use of Irish manufactures within the
kingdom, roused the indignation of the ministry, and.
a prosecution against the printer was commenced ; but
it came to nothing. Some Uttle pieces of poetry, to
the same, purpose, were no less acceptable ; nor was
his attachment to the true interest of his native
5

490 JONATHAN SWIFT,
island any longer doubted. He was now looked
upon with rapture, as he passed through the streets^.
and became the general arbitrator in disputes among
his neighbours.
During his high tide of popularity, however, he
did not whoUy intermit his correspondence with his
EngUsh friends, though in the foUowing letter to Mr.
Pope he states his reluctance in writing. ;
" Dublin, Sept. 20, 1123.
" Returning from a summer expedition of four
months on account of my health, I found a letter
from you, with an appendix longer than yours frorii
Lord BoUngbroke. I beUeve there is not a more
miserable malady than an unwUUngness to write let
ters to our best friends ; and a man might be phUoso
pher enough in finding out reasons for it. One thing
is clear, that it shows a mighty difference betwixt
friendship and love; for a lover, as I have heard, is^
always scribbUng to his mistress. If I could pernrit:
myself to believe what your civiUty makes you say,'
that I am stiU remembered by my friends in Eng
land), I am in the right to keep myself here — Noti'
sum qualis eram. I left you in a period of Ufe, when^
one year does more execution than three at yours ; to
which if you add the dulness of the afr, and of the
people, it wiU make a terrible sum. I have no very
strong faith in you pretenders to retfrement : you are
not of an age for it, nor have gone through either
good or bad fortune enough to go into a corner, and
form conclusions de contemptu mundi etfuga sceculi ;'
unless a poet grows weary of too much applause, aS;
ministers do of too much weight of business.
" Your happiness is greater than your riierit, in

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 491
choosing your favourites so indifferently among either ,
party. This you owe partly to your education, and
partly to your genius employing you in an art in
which faction has nothing to do : for I suppose VirgU
and Horace are equally read by Whigs and Tories.^
You have no more to do with the constitution of
Church and State, than a Christian at Constantinople ;
and you are so much the wiser and the happier, be
cause both parties wiU approve your poetry as long aS,
you are known to be of neither.
" Your notions of friendship are new to me : I be^
Ueve. every man is bom with his quantum, and he.
cannot give to one without robbing another. I very;
weU know, to whom I would give the first places in
my friendship, but they are not in the way: I am
condemned to another scene, and therefore I distri
bute it in penny-worths to those about me, and who,
displease me least; and should do the same to my
feUo.w-prisoners, if I were condemned to jaU. I can,
Ukewise, tolerate knaves much better than fools ; be
cause their knavery does me no hurt in the com
merce I have with them, which however I own is'
more dangerous, though not so troublesome, as thai
of fools. I have often endeavoured to estabUsh a
friendship among aU men of genius, and would fain
have it done: they are seldom above three 'or four
contemporaries, and if they could be united, would
drive the world before them. J think it was so
among the poets in the time of Augustus : but envy,
and party, and pride have hindered it among- us. I
do not include the subalterns, of which you are seldom
without a large tribe. Under the name of poets and
scribblers I suppose yoii mean the fools you are con
tent to see sometifties, when they . happen to be mo-

492 JONATHAN SWIFT,
dest ; w;hich was not frequent among them, whUe I
was in the world.
" I would describe to you my way of Uving, if any
method could be called so in this country. I choose
my companions among those pf least consequence arid
taost compUance : I read the most trifling books I
can find, and whenever I write, it is upon the most
trifling subjects : but riding, walking, and sleeping
take up eighteen of the twenty four hours. I pro
crastinate more than I did twenty years ago, and have
several things to finish, which I put off to twenty
years hence : Hcec est vita solutormn, ^c. I send
you the compUments of a friend of yours', who hath-
passed four months this summer with two grave ac
quaintance at his, country-house, without ever once
going to DubUn, which is but eight mUes distant;
yet when he returns to London, I wUl engage you
wUl find him as deep in the Court of Requests, the
park, the operas, and the coffee-house, as any man
there. I am now with him for a few days.
" You must remember me with great affection to
Dr. Arbuthnot, Mr. Congreve, and Gay. I think
there are no more eodem tertio' s between you and
me, except Mr. Jervas, to whose house I address this,
for want of knowing where you Uve : for it was not
clear from your last, whether you lodge with Lord
Peterborow, or he with you. " I am ever, &c."
He made many efforts indeed, at various periods,
to exchange the drcuitous and imperfect enjoyment
of letters for the deUght of personal intercourse ; and
attempted to seduce the EngUsh Homer in partibiUar
to Ireland, by assuring him that " both summers and

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 49$
winters were mUder in that island, and things for Ufe
in general better for a middling fortune, with an ab+
solute command of his company, and whatever obse
quiousness or freedom he might expect or aUow."
" I have an elderly housekeeper," he adds, " who hath
been riiy W-lp-le above thirty years, whenever I Uved
in this kingdom. I have the command of one or two
viUas near this town [DubUn] : you have a warm
apartment in this house, and two gardens fbr amuse
ment, &c." But Pope was not to be moved.
The popularity of Swift was sweUed to it's fuUest
height by the pubUcation ofthe 'Drajaer's Letters' in
1724, which combined aU ranks and professions in
his applause. A patent had been obtained by one
WiUiam Wood cf Wolverhampton, through a bribe to
the Duchess of Kendal, to coin halfpence to the amount
of 180,000/. for the use ofthe sister-island. The
Dean, under the name of M. B. Drapier, addressed
a series of letters to the people, urging them ' not to
receive this money ; ' and Wood, though powerfuUy
supported, was compeUed to withdraw his patent.*
* Upon this occasion an incident occurred, which displays
Swift's peculiar character in it's most favourable light. The
only person entrusted with his secret was his butler, who
had transcribed his papers. This man, soon after the ap
pearance of the government-proclamation, absented himself
one night, and there was reason to believe that he had be
trayed his master. On his return home, the Dean ordered
him to strip off his livery, and quit the house : " I know (said
he) that I am in your power ; but, for that very reason, I will
not bear either your insolence, or your neglect." The butler,
\vho had only ' yielded to the temptation of drinking, humbly
confessed his fault, and entreated to be forgiven i but the' Diean
was inexorable. He was dismissed with disgrace, and not re
ceived again till the term of the offered reward was expired^
Soon afterward, his master called him up, and: ordered the

*94 JONATHAN SWIFT,
Never was any name bestowed with more universal
approbation, than that ofthe ' Drapier' upon Dr. Swift.
Bumpers were poured forth to his honpur, as large
and as frequent as to the immortal memory of Wil'
Uam III. : acclamations and vows for his prosperity
attended him, whithersoever he went ; and his por
trait was painted in every street in DubUn. ' The
Dean,' the title given to him, by way of eminence,
universaUy carried with it the idea of the first and
greatest man in the kingdom. So avowed, indeed*
was his authority, that Archbishop Butler (one of
the Lords Justices) having accused him of exaspe
rating the populace, he refuted the charge by saying,
" If I had lifted up my finger, they would have torn
yPu to pieces.." Upon every point relating to do
mestic poUcy in general, and to the trade of Ireland
in particularj he was resorted to for his advice : but
he was more immediately regarded as the legislator
of the weavers, who frequently soUcited him in a
body to settle the rates of their manufactures, land
the wages of their journeymen. When elections
were depending for the dty of DubUn, many of the
companies refiised to declare themselves, tiU they had
previously consulted his sentiments and wishes upon
the subject.
Early in 1726, after an absence of twelve years,
he revisited England ; and in conjunction with Pope,
who furnished a preface,- coUected three volumes of
^ MisceUanies.' Of these, the latter enjoyed the whole
other servants to attend. He then bid thetn take notice, that
Ilobert was no longer their fellow-servant, but Mr. Blakeney,
verger of St. Patrick's, which place he had procured for him
M account of his fidelity. Tbe grateful man, however, still
sbdntinued to serve bis master as butler.

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 495
profit, which was very considerable. Swift indeed,
unlike his associate, never seems to have regarded
his Uterary exertions as objects of pecuniary emolu
ment. The same year, Ukewise, he pubUshed his
'GuUiver's Travels;*' a production received with
such avidity, that the first edition bore a premium,
before the second could be issued. Of it's four parts,
the Voyages to LilUput and to Brobdingnag gave
* That this was the production of his spleen, may be inferred
from the following extract of a letter to Pope upon the subject :
" The chief end I propose in all my labours is, to vex the world,
rather than to divert it; and, ifl could compass that design with
out hurting my own person or fortune, I would be the most in
defatigable writer you have ever seen, without reading. I have
ever hated all nations, professions, and communities; and all
my love is toward individuals : for instance, I hate all lawyers,
but I love Counsellor Such-a-one, and Judge Such-a-one. 'Tis
so with physicians (I will not speak of my own trade) soldiers,
English, Scotch, French, and the rest : but, principally, I hate
and detest that animal called man ! though I heartily love John,
Peter, Thomas, and so forth. I have got materials toward a
treatise, proving the falsity of that definition Animal Rationale,
and to show it should be only Rationis Capax, Upon this great
foundation of misanthropy, though not in Timon's manner, the
whole building of my ' Travels' is erected, and I wiU never
have peace of mind till all honest men are of my opinion." This
misanthropy induced him to dabble too much in gall.
" He turns his pen (says Davies) too frequently into a scalp-
ing-knife, and makes his wit the executioner of his ill-nature.
Not content to overcome his antagonist by the strength of his,
abilities and tbe force of his argument. Swift treats him as if he
were not only ihe dullest, but the vilest, of mankind. It is not
enough for him to conquer, unless be tramples too upon his
enemy : he frequently selects the most opprobrious terms and
shocking expressions he can find in the English language, and
throws them about at random on persons in the most exalted, as
well as the lowest stations ; on princes and stock-jobbers, chan
cellors and printers, duchesses and coiners, statesmen and news^
writers, bishops and usurers, fine ladies and lewd rakes."

^96 JONATHAN SWIFT,
the greatest pleasure. The supposed satire on human
nature, in his portrait of the Yahoo in the foui?ft,
whUe it disgusted, the general reader, exposed it's
author to a charge of misanthropy, frpm which he
has been vindicated (if npt with complete success,
with considerable ingenuity) by Mr. Sheridan.
From the concems, however, of authorship and the
charm of EngUsh society he hurried to Ireland, upn
receiving inteUigence that ' his SteUa, to whom he had
been completely reconcUed, was dangerously iU.' Hq
had the satisfaction of finding her better; and re-i
turning to England the same year, kissed hands at
court three days after the accession of the new Sovc'
reign. Having been treated by the Queen, when
Princess of Wales, with some distinction, possessing
the regard of Mrs, Howard her favourite, andkno^ij
to Walpole himself, he not unreasonably began again
to hope' that he might accompUsh a settlement in
England by an exchange, of preferment; but in vain.
On a summons Uke the preceding one, accompanied
by a severe fit of giddiness of his own, he. revisited
his native island; a country to which not even
power almost despotic, nor flattery almost idolatrous,
could reconcUe him : * and it was, speedUy, to lose
it's only remaining charm.
In 1727, died his Stella, regretted by him with
such excess of sorrow as only the keenest sensibiUty
could suffer, and the most exceUent character excite
or deserve. The singular conduct of this unaccount-
#¦
'f " His reiterated wailings," says Dr. Johnson, " persuaded
Boljingbcoke, tbat he was really willing to quit his deanery for an
English parish ; and Bolingbroke procured an exchange, which
was rejected, and Swift still retained tbe pleasur-e of com
plaining,'*

DEAN OP ST. PATRICK'S. 497
able humourist, it is thought, threw her into a de
cUne, and shortened her days.
Thus perished at the early age of forty four an
amiable and beautiful woman, doomed to protracted
misery in consequence of her having loved one, who (to
adopt Dr. Delany's interpretation of his conduct) was
fond of sing^arity, and desfrous of making a mode
of happiness for himself different from the general
course of things and order of Providence. During
the interval of eleven years between her marriage and
her death, she had Uved suUenly on, in hope that
in tiriae he would own and receive her: but she died
under the tyranny of him, by whom she was in the
highest degree adored and honoured ! *
* In the character, which he himself drew up of Stella shortly
after her death, he pronounces' her ' the truest, most virtuous,
and valuable friend, thathe or perhaps any other person was
ever blessed with : ' and afiBrms that she ' never swerved, in any
one deed or moment of her life, from the principles of honour
and virtue;' had • a gracefulness, somewhat more than human,-
in every motion, word, and action;' was not at any time known
to ' cry ,out or discover any fear in a coach or on horseback,' or
any uneasiness in those sudden accidents, with which most of
ber sex (either by weakness, or afiectation) appear so much dis
ordered ; x>r to discover the least absence of mind in conversa
tion, or to interrupt or appear eager to put in her word by wait
ing impatiently till another had done;' and that, when enhanced
prices and reduced interest of money began to cramp her expen
diture, her ' charity to tbe poor (as a duty not to be diminished)
became a tax upon those tradesmen, who furnish the fopperies
of other ladies. " She bought clothes," he adds, " as seldom
as possible, and then as plain and cheap as consisted with the
way she was in ; and wore no lace for many years. Either her
judgement or fortune was extraordinary, in the choice of those
on whom she bestowed her charity ; for it went farther in doing
good, than double the sum from any other band. And I have
heard ber say, ' she always met with gratitude from the poor ;'
VOL. V. 2k

498 JONATHAN SWIFT,
Aftet' this riielaneholy event, his life became ex
tremely retired, and the austerity of his temper
greatly increased : his pubUc days for receiving com-
patiy were discontinued; and he even shunned the
society of his most intimate friends. His fkculties,
however, appeai'ed yet to have Suffered little injury.
One of his last pieces, ' Verses on the death pf Dr.
Swift,' is perhaps one of his best : and his ' Epistle
to a Lady,' and his ' Rhapsody on Poetry,' both
written with a view to gratify his resentment against
which must be owing to her skill in distinguishing proper objects,
as "well as her gracious manner in relieving them.
" But she had another quality, that much delighted her,
although it may be thought a kind of check upoii her bounty :
however, it was a pleasure she could not resist. I mean, that
of making agreeable presents, wherein I never knew her equal,
although it be an affair of as delicate a nature as most in the
course of life. She used to define a present, tbat • it was a
gift to a friend of something he wanted or was fond of, and
which could not be easily gotten for money.' I am confident,
during my acquaintance with her she hath, in these and some
other kinds of liberality, disposed of to tbe value pf several
hundred pounds. As to presents made to herself, she received
them with great unwillingness, but especially from those to
whom she had ever given any; beitig, on all occasions, the
most disinterested mortal I ever knew or heard of," — " She
loved Ireland much better than the generality of those, who owe
both their birth and riches to it; and having brought over all the
fortune she had in money, left tbe reversion of the best part df
it, one thousand pounds, to Dr. Stephens' Hospital. She dc''
tested the tyranny and injustice of England, in their treatment
of this kingdom. She had, indeed, reason to love a country,
where she had the esteem and friendship of all who knew her."
Of those he elsewhere names, as her visiting friends, tbe Primate
Lindsay, Bishops Lloyd, Ashe, Browne, Stearne, and Pulleyn.
" Indeed, tbe greatest number of her acquaintance was among
the clergy."

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 499
Walpole,* who (as he conceived) had prevented the
Queen from sending him some promised medals, are
not inferior to any of his former productions pf the
same kind. He was as earnest, Ukewise, as usual
in his schemes for bettering the condition of the
Irish poor ; and even devoted the third part of
his income to charity : a deduction, which he could
the better bear, as he had ceased to open his table
to his acquaintance. He received, also, an addi
tional proof of pubUc regard: for, having been
threatened by one CounseUor Bettesworth (an active
Whig leader in Dublin) with corporal vengeance, in
resentment of having beeri ' hitched into a bitter
rhyme,' the inhabitants of St. Patrick's district re
solved to embody themselves for his defence.
But, with his advancing years, his fits of giddi
ness and deafness became both more frequent and
more severe; tiU in 1736, as he was writing a sati
rical poem, caUed ' The Legion Club,' he was seized
with one so dreadful, that he left the work unfinished,
and never afterward attempted a composition of any
length either in verse or prose. His conversation,
however, stUl remained the same, Uvely and se
vere; though his memory graduaUy became worse
and worse,f and his temper grew daUy more fretful
and impatient.
In 1738 appeared his ' Polite Conversation,' which
had been the production of former years. This, and
his ' Directions for Servants,' show " a mind inces
santly attentive, and when it was not employed upon
* Walpole was exasperated to the highest degree by these
compositions, and even threatened a prosecutipn.
X He had resolved never to wear spectacles, which at last
totally intercepted the amusement of reading.
2 K 2

500 JONATHAN SWIFT,
great things, busy with minute occurrences. It is
apparent, indeedj, that he must have had the habit of
noting whatever he observed ; for such a number of
particulars could never have been assembled by the
power of recoUection."
From 1739 to 1744, his passions grew so ungo
vernable, his memory so imperfect, and his reason
so depraved, that the utmost precautions were taken
to prevent strangers from approaching him ; for, tiU
then, he had not been totally incapable of conversa
tion. In 1741 it was found - necessary to appoint
legal guardians of his person and fortune ; and early
in 1742, the small remains of his understanding be
coming whoUy confused, the violence of his rage
increased to a degree of madness. His meat was
brought to hini cut into mouthfuls, which he would
generaUy eat walking : for he was stiU on his feet
ten hours a day.
In October, his left eye sweUed to the size of a
hen's egg, and several large boUs broke out on his
body. These, by the pain they caused, kept him
awake nearly a whole month ; during one week of
which, it was with difficulty that five persons restrained
him, by mere force, from puUing out his own eyes.
Upon thefr subsiding, he knew' those about him ; and
appeared so far to have recovered his. understanding
and his temper, that his friends hoped he might once
more enjoy society. Thefr hopes, howeverj proved
but of short duration : for a few days afterward he
sunk into a jtate of total insensibiUty (the effect, as
it was supposed, of water on the brain), slept much,
and could not without great reluctance be induced to
walk across the room. After he had continued sUent
a whole year in a state of idiotcy, his housekeeper

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 501
entered his room on his bfrth-day, and told him that
* bonefires and Uluminations were preparing to cele
brate it as usual:' to which he immediately repUed,
" It is aU foUy ; they had better Id it alone."
Some other instances of lucid intervals, after his
madness ended in a stupor, seem to evince that his
disorder, whatever it was, had only- suspended his
intellectual powers. In 1744, he occasionaUy caUed
his servant by name; and once in an attempt to
speak to him, not being able to express his meaning,
he showed signs of great uneasiness, and at last ex
claimed, " I am a fool." The same attendant, like
wise, taking away his watch, he cried out, " Bring
it here;" and on his breaking a large coal, he told
him, " That is a stone, you blockhead." These were
the last words he pronounced : after which, he re
mained a miserable spectacle of human weakness tUl
the end of October, 1745 ; when, every power of
nature being exhausted, he sunk into the arms of
death without a struggle.
He had often been heard to lament the state of
chUdhood and dotage, to which some of the vrisest
and greatest of men had been reduced ; and men
tioned, as examples within his own time, the Duke
of Marlborough* and Lord Somers. This he always
did with a heavy sigh, and with much apparent un-
* How beautifully, in his ' Vanity of Human Wishes,* has
Johnson associated this noblman with his elegiac lampooner :
' In life's last scene what prodigies surprise,
Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise ;
From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage flow.
And Swift expires — a driveller and a show.'
This last melancholy fact, of his being exhibited, is asserted
upon vei-y respectable authority.

502 JONATHAN SWIFT,
easiness, as if he anticipated what was to happen to
himself
.'¦!.iH.Na sooner was his death announced, than the
citizens gathered from all quarters, and forced thefr
way in crowds into the house, to pay the last tribute
of grief to thefr departed benefactor. Nothing but
lamentations were heard round the quarter where
he Uved, as if he had been cut off in the vigour of
his years. Happy were they, who first got into the
chamber where he lay, and procured by bribes to the
servants locks of his hafr, to be handed down as
sacred reUcs to their posterity. So eager, indeed, were
numbers to obtain at any price this predous memo
rial, that in less than an hour his venerable head was
entirely stripped of it's alver ornaments, so thiat
not a hair remained.
His whole fortune, which was about 12,000/., he
left (with the exception of legacies to the amount of
1,200/.*) to the buUding of a Hospital for Idiots and
Lunatics. His remains were intended with much funeral
pompi being numerously attended by the weavers,
and a vast concourse of other manufacturers and
tradesmen. They tvere deposited in the great aisle
of St. Patrick's Cathedral, DubUn, under a slab of
black marble ; upon which was inscribed the foUow
ing Latin epitaph, written by himself:
, Hic depositum est corpus
Jonathan Swift, S. T. P.
Hijus ecclesies cathedralis
Decani,
Ubi sceva indigriafio
* His sister, Mrs. Fentcn, had offended him by an imprudent
marriage (as be proudly conceived it to be) with a tradesman.

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 508
Ulterius cor lacerare tiequit.
Abi, viator, efimiiare.
Si poteris,
Strenuum pro virili libertatis vindicem, ..i^'- *
Obiit anno (1745)
Mensis {Octobris) die. (19)
^tatis annoj^'78).
" His person," says Johnson, " had not many
recommendations. He had a kind of muddy com
plexion, which, though he washed himself with Ori
ental scrupulosity, did not look clear. He had a
countenance sour and severe, which he seldom soft*
ened by any appearance of gayety. He stubbornly
resisted any tendency to laughter."
His works have been frequently printed, and in
various forms. Some additional volumes have, re
cently, been pubUshed by Deane Swift, Esq., and
by Mr. Nichols.*
" From his early hatred to hypocrisy," says Dr.
Sheridan, " he feU (forgetting his own assertion, that
' hypocrisy is less mischievous than open impiety')
into the contrary extreme ; and no mortal ever took
more pains to display his good quaUties, and appear
in the best Ught to the world, than he did to conceal
his, or even to put on the semblance of thefr con
traries. This humour affected his whole conduct, as
well in the more important duties, as in the common
offices of life. Though a man of great piety and
true reUgion, yet he carefuUy shunned aU ostentation
* Of these successive editions,'the most accurate accfount is
given by Mr. Nichols in the General Preface to his own ; in
which he observes that Lord Orrery, where he did not find the
appearance of a fault in Swift, laboured hard to make one : Mr.
Sheridan, on the other band, (it may be remarked) is too uni
formly pane^rical.

sot JONATHAN SWIFT,
of it : as an instance of which it is weU known that,
during his residence in London, not being caUed
upon by any duty to officiate pubUcly in his clerical
capacity, he was seldom seen at church at the usual
hours that pretenders to reUgioft show themselves
there; but he was a constant attendant on early
prayers, and a frequent partaker of early sacraments.
Though generous and charitable in his nature to the
highest degree, he seemed to part .with money so
reluctantly, and spoke so much about economy, that
he passed for avaricious and hard-hearted. His very
civUities bore the appearance of rudeness; and hi^
finest compUments were conveyed under the disguise
pf satfre. Lord BoUngbroke, who knew him well,
in two words summed up his character in this respect,
by saying, that Swift was a ' hypocrite reversed.'
When to this we add the party-animosities, to which
by his eminence as a poUtical partisan he was ex
posed, we cannot be surprised that on such a ground
work such a superstructure of calumny was erected
against him. This, as no defence was made, was
daily suffered to increase. For he had very unwisely
laid it down as a maxim, ' To act uprightly, and
pay no regard to the opinion of the world.'
" Thus, whUe he was admfred, esteemed, beloved
beyond any man of his time by his particular friends,
not only on account of his superior talents, but his
pre-eminence in every kind of virtue ; he was en
vied, feared, and hated by his enemies, who con
sisted 'of a whole virulent faction, to a man. And
when we take in the general appetite for scandal, and
the spirit of envy in the bulk of mankind which
deUghts in the humUiation of an exalted character,
we shaU not be surprised that even among his own

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 505
party he found few advocates to vindicate his fame ;
and that he had no other support, in this torrent of
abuse, but the consciousness of his own rectitude and
the unalterable attachment of his intimate friends,
among which number he could count such as were
most eminent in those days both for talent and
virtue." " For a long time," the same writer elsewhere
observes, " his several productions remained in a
detached state, without the name of any author;
nor could the general adnuration they excited prevaU
on him to reveal himself, or claim them as his own.
In this respect, he seems to have been actuated by
the same principle which governed his whole conduct
in Ufe, that of the most perfect disinterestedness j
and as he had laid it down for a maxim from the
beginning, that ' he never would receive any pecu
niary gratification for his writings,' * so he used his
best endeavours to avoid, as much as possible, even
the reward of fame. Or if, in process of time, the
author of works bearing the stamp of such uncommon
genius should be discovered, it would be aUowed that
he- courted not fame, but that fame foUowed him.
The improvement of mankind being the chief object
he had in view in aU his pubUcations, he thought the
extraordinary talent, bestowed on him for this pur
pose with so Uberal a hand, ought to be as UberaUy
employed, without any mean mixture of selfish
motives. " In his pubUc capacity, he was one of the truest
* The only exceptions to this, if Mrs. Whiteway is correct,
were his ' History of the Four Last Years of Queen Anne's
Heign,' and bis ' Gulliver.' {Letter to Mr, Pope, May 16^
mo.)

.506 JONATHAN SWIFT,
patriots that ever Uved, and for the many important
services he did his country, be was haUed by the
general voice Pater PatHce. In his private Ufe, of
the strictest morals ; and, in the discharge of his
clerical duties, of exemplary piety. His charities
were boundless, and the whole business of his life
was, DOING GOOD."
He continued through life (remarks Johnson) to re
tain the disposition, which he assigns to the Church
of England man, of thinking commonly, with the
Whigs, of the State, and, with the Tories, of the
Church. " As to his poUtical principles (we leam
from another of his biographers) if his own account
of them is to be beUeved, he abhorred Whiggism only
in those who made it consist in damning the Church,
reviUng the clergy, abetting the Dissenters, and
speaking contemptibly of Revealed Religion. He
always declared himself against a Popish successor to
the Crown, vvhatever title he might have by prox
imity of blood; nor did he regard the right line
upon any other account, than as it was estabUshed
by law, and had much weight in the opinions of the
people. He was of opinion, that when the grievances
suffered under a present government became greater
than those which might probably be expected from
changing it by violence, a revolution was justifiable ;
and this he beUeved to have been the case in that,
which was brought about by the Prince of Orange,
He had a mortal antipathy against standing armies
in time of peace, and was of opinion that our Uberty
could never- be placed upon a firm foundation, tiU the
ancient law should be revived by which our parlia
ments were made annual. He aboiriinated the poU
tical "scheme of setting up the monied interest in
1

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 507
opposition to the landed, and was an enemy to tem
porary suspensions of the Habeas Corpus Act." In
these notions, and in his general scheme of poUtics,
Harley was known to concur.
" When you consider," says Dr. Delany to Orrery,
" Swift's singular, peculiar, and most variegated vein
of wit, always rightly intended (although not always
so rightly directed) delightful in many instances, and
salutary even when it is most offensive : when you
consider his strict truth, his fortitude in resisting
oppression and arbitrary power, his fideUty in friend
ship, his sincere love and zeal for religion, his up
rightness in making right resolutions and his , steadi
ness in adhering to them, his care of his church, it's
choir, it's economy, and it's income ; his attention to
aU those that preached in his cathedral, in order to
thefr amendment in pronunciation and stUe, as also
his remarkable attention to the interest of his , suc
cessors preferably to his own present emoluments;
his invincible patriotism, even to a country which he
did not love ; his very various, weU-devised, weUr
judged, and extensive charities throughout his life,
and his whole fortune (to say nothing of his wife's)
conveyed to the same christian purposes at his death;
charities, from which he could enjoy no honour,
advantage, or satisfaction of any kind in this .world :
when you consider his ironical and humorous, as
weU as his serious, schemes for the promotion of true
reUgion and virtue ; his success in soUciting for the
First Fruits and Twentieths, to the unspeakable
benefit of the EstabUshed Church of Ireland, and
his feUcity (to rate it no higher) in giving occasion to
the buUding of fifty new churches in London — aU
this considered, the Character of his life wiU appear

SOS JONATHAN SWIFT,
like that of his writings : they wUl bear to be recon
sidered and re-examined with the utmost attention,
and always discover new beauties and exceUences
upon every examination. They wUl bear to be con
sidered as the sun, in which the brightness wiU hide
the blemishes; and whenever petulant ignorance,'
pride, maUce, maUgnity, or envy interposes to cloud
or suUy his fame, I wiU take upon me to pronounce
that the ecUpse wiU not last long.
" To conclude : no man ever deserved better of
any country, than Swift did of his. A steady, per
severing, inflexible friend ; a wise, a watchful, and a
faithful counseUor, under many severe trials and
bitter persecutions, to the manifest hazard both of
his liberty and fortune — he Uved a blessing, he died
a benefactor, and his name wUl ever Uve an honour
to Ireland."
To this character Sheridan subjoins an inscription
to the memory of the Dean, drawn up in elegant
Latin by Dr. Stopford, Bishop of Cloyne, who al
ways acknowledged that ' to Swift he was entfrely
indebted for every step of his preferment;' and con
cludes his work with the foUowing remark : " Upon
the whole, when we consider his character as a man,
perfedly free from vice, with few fraUties and such
exalted virtues ; and as an author, possessed of such
uncommon talents, such an original vein of humour,
such an inexhaustible fund of wit, joined to so clear
and soUd an understanding: when we behold these
two characters united in one and the same person, per
haps it wUl not be thought too bold an assertion to
say, that his paraUel is not to be found in the his
tory either of ancient or modem times."
A stem inflexible temper, says another writer.

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. ^09
and pride in a supreme degree were the basis upon
which were buUt firmness, sincerity, integrity, and
freedom from aU mean jealousy^ but aUoyed with
arrogance, implacabUity, carelessness of giving pain,
and total want of candor. Numerous are the anec
dotes of his rudeness and petulance in society, some
of which were of a kind that meanness alone could
tolerate. Of his obdurate and unfeeUng nature many
more examples might be adduced, if those afready
given were not more than sufficient.
As a writer, he was original, and probably wiU
always remain unparaUeUed. In wit, he stands first
in the walk of grave irony maintained with such
an air of serious simpUcity, that it would deceive any
reader not aware of his drift.
Lord Orrery himself states that he always consi-
dei'ed him as an ' abstract and brief chronicle of the
times,' no man being better acquainted with human
nature both in -the highest and lowest scenes. His
friends and correspondents were the greatest and most
eminent men of the age, and the sages of antiquity
were often the companions of his closet: for although
he avoided an ostentation of learning, and generaUy
chose to di'aw his materials from his own store, yet
his knowledge of the ancient authors evidently ap
pears from the strength of his sentiments and the
classic correctness of his stUe. His attendance upon
the public service of the church was regular and un
interrupted : and, indeed, regularity was pecuUar to
him in all his actions, even in the greatest trifles.
His hours of walking and reading never varied : his
motions were guided by his watch, which was so
constantly held in hi§ hand, or placed before him

510 JONATHAN SWIFT,
upon his table, that he seldom varied many minutes
in the daUy revolution of his exercises and employ
ments." In his church, as we are told by Johnson, he
restored the pradice of weekly communion, and dis
tributed the sacramental elements in the most solemn
and devout manner with his own hand. The sus-
pidons indeed of his irreligion proceeded, in a great
measure, from his dread of hypocrisy. He read
prayers to his servants every moming with such
dextrous secrecy, that Delany was six months in his
house before he knew it ! The Doctor, with aU his
zeal for his honour, has justly condemned this part of
his conduct.
The principal difficulty that occurs in analysing
his character is, to discover by what depravity of in
tellect he took deUght in revolving ideas from which
almost every other mind shrinks with disgust. De
lany, in his vindication, asserts that ' his mind was
not tainted by this gross corruption before his long
visit to Pope in 1726, when he had reached his fifty
ninth year.' But he had described his Yahoos before
this contaminating visit ; and he, that had formed
those images, had nothing filthy to learn.
His poetical works are often humorous, almost
always Ught, and have the qualities which recom
mend such compositions, easiness and gayety, and
exempUfy his own definition of a good stUe, " proper
words in proper places." It. was said, in a preface to
one of the Irish editions, that ' he had never been
known to take a single thought from any writer,
ancient or modem.' This is not UteraUy true : but,
perhaps, no writer can easily Jte found that has bor-

DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S. 511
rowed so Uttle, or that in aU his exceUences and aU
his defects has so weU maintained his claim to be
considered as original.

END OF VOL. V.

C. Baldwin, Printer,
New Bridge-atreet, London.

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