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Bestow On Him An Academical Education; But Durst Not Name

A College, For Fear Of Detection.

 

 

 

He Was, For Some Time, According to The Author Of His Life, Clerk To Mr.

Jefferys, Of Earl'S Croomb, In worcestershire, An Eminent Justice Of

The Peace. In his Service He Had Not Only Leisure For Study, But For

Recreation: His Amusements Were Musick And Painting; And The Reward Of

His Pencil Was The Friendship Of The Celebrated cooper. Some Pictures,

Said To Be His, Were Shown To Dr. Nash, At Earl'S Croomb; But, When He

Inquired for Them Some Years Afterwards, He Found Them Destroyed, To Stop

Windows, And Owns That They Hardly Deserved a Better Fate.

 

 

 

He Was Afterwards Admitted into The Family Of The Countess Of Kent, Where

He Had The Use Of A Library; And So Much Recommended himself To Selden,

That He Was Often Employed by Him In literary Business. Selden, As Is

Well Known, Was Steward To The Countess, And Is Supposed to Have Gained

Much Of His Wealth By Managing her Estate.

 

 

 

In What Character Butler Was Admitted into That Lady'S Service, How Long

He Continued in it, And Why He Left It, Is, Like The Other Incidents Of

His Life, Utterly Unknown. The Vicissitudes Of His Condition Placed him

Afterwards In the Family Of Sir Samuel Luke, One Of Cromwell'S Officers.

Here He Observed so Much Of The Character Of The Sectaries, That He Is

Said To Have Written Or Begun His Poem At This Time; And It Is Likely

That Such A Design Would Be Formed in a Place Where He Saw The Principles

And Practices Of The Rebels, Audacious And Undisguised in the Confidence

Of Success.

 

 

 

At Length The King returned, And The Time Came In which Loyalty Hoped

For Its Reward. Butler, However, Was Only Made Secretary To The Earl Of

Carbury, President Of The Principality Of Wales; Who Conferred on Him The

Stewardship Of Ludlow Castle, When The Court Of The Marches Was Revived.

 

 

 

In This Part Of His Life, He Married mrs. Herbert, A Gentlewoman Of A

Good Family; And Lived, Says Wood, Upon Her Fortune, Having studied

The Common Law, But Never Practised it. A Fortune She Had, Says His

Biographer, But It Was Lost By Bad Securities.

 

 

 

In 1663 Was Published the First Part, Containing three Cantos, Of The

Poem Of Hudibras, Which, As Prior Relates, Was Made Known At Court By

The Taste And Influence Of The Earl Of Dorset. When It Was Known, It Was

Necessarily Admired: The King quoted, The Courtiers Studied, And The

Whole Party Of The Royalists Applauded it. Every Eye Watched for The

Golden Shower Which Was To Fall Upon The Author, Who Certainly Was Not

Without His Part In the General Expectation.

 

 

 

In 1664 The Second Part Appeared; The Curiosity Of The Nation Was

Rekindled, And The Writer Was Again Praised and Elated. But Praise Was

His Whole Reward. Clarendon, Says Wood, Gave Him Reason To Hope For

"Places And Employments Of Value And Credit;" But No Such Advantages Did

He Ever Obtain. It Is Reported that The King once Gave Him Three Hundred

Guineas; But Of This Temporary Bounty I Find No Proof.

 

 

 

Wood Relates That He Was Secretary To Villiers, Duke Of Buckingham, When

He Was Chancellor Of Cambridge: This Is Doubted by The Other Writer, Who

Yet Allows The Duke To Have Been His Frequent Benefactor. That Both These

Accounts Are False There Is Reason To Suspect, From A Story Told By

Packe, In his Account Of The Life Of Wycherley; And From Some Verses

Which Mr. Thyer Has Published in the Author'S Remains.

 

 

 

"Mr. Wycherley," Says Packe, "Had Always Laid Hold Of An Opportunity

Which Offered of Representing to The Duke Of Buckingham How Well Mr.

Butler Had Deserved of The Royal Family, By Writing his Inimitable

Hudibras; And That It Was A Reproach To The Court, That A Person Of His

Loyalty And Wit Should Suffer In obscurity, And Under The Wants He Did.

The Duke Always Seemed to Hearken To Him With Attention Enough; And,

After Some Time, Undertook To Recommend His Pretensions To His Majesty.

Mr. Wycherley, In hopes To Keep Him Steady To His Word, Obtained of His

Grace To Name A Day, When He Might Introduce That Modest And Unfortunate

Poet To His New Patron. At Last An Appointment Was Made, And The Place Of

Meeting was Agreed to Be The Roebuck. Mr. Butler And His Friend Attended

Accordingly; The Duke Joined them; But, As The D--L Would Have It, The

Door Of The Room Where They Sat Was Open, And His Grace, Who Had Seated

Himself Near It, Observing a Pimp Of His Acquaintance (The Creature Too

Was A Knight) Trip By With A Brace Of Ladies, Immediately Quitted his

Engagement To Follow Another Kind Of Business, At Which He Was More Ready

Than In doing good Offices To Men Of Desert, Though No One Was Better

Qualified than He, Both In regard To His Fortune And Understanding, To

Protect Them; And, From That Time To The Day Of His Death, Poor Butler

Never Found The Least Effect Of His Promise!"

 

 

 

Such Is The Story. The Verses Are Written With A Degree Of Acrimony, Such

As Neglect And Disappointment Might Naturally Excite; And Such As It

Would Be Hard To Imagine Butler Capable Of Expressing against A Man Who

Had Any Claim To His Gratitude.

 

 

 

Notwithstanding this Discouragement And Neglect, He Still Prosecuted his

Design; And, In 1678, Published the Third Part, Which Still Leaves The

Poem Imperfect And Abrupt. How Much More He Originally Intended, Or With

What Events The Action Was To Be Concluded, It Is Vain To Conjecture. Nor

Can It Be Thought Strange That He Should Stop Here, However Unexpectedly.

To Write Without Reward Is Sufficiently Unpleasing. He Had Now Arrived

At An Age When He Might Think It Proper To Be In jest No Longer, And,

Perhaps, His Health Might Now Begin To Fail.

 

 

 

He Died in 1680; And Mr. Longueville, Having unsuccessfully Solicited a

Subscription For His Interment In westminster Abbey, Buried him, At His

Own Cost, In the Church-Yard Of Covent Garden[64]. Dr. Simon Patrick Read

The Service.

 

 

 

Granger Was Informed by Dr. Pearce, Who Named for His Authority Mr.

Lowndes, Of The Treasury, That Butler Had A Yearly Pension Of An Hundred

Pounds. This Is Contradicted by All Tradition, By The Complaints Of

Oldham, And By The Reproaches Of Dryden; And, I Am Afraid, Will Never Be

Confirmed.

 

 

 

About Sixty Years Afterwards, Mr. Barber, A Printer, Mayor Of London,

And A Friend To Butler'S Principles, Bestowed on Him A Monument In

Westminster Abbey, Thus Inscribed:

 

 

 

  M. S.

  Samuelis Butleri,

 

 

 

  Qui Strenshamiae In agro Vigorn. Nat. 1612,

  Obijt Lond. 1680.

  Vir Doctus Imprimis, Acer, Integer;

  Operibus Ingenii, Non Item Praemiis, Foelix:

  Satyrici Apud Nos Carminis Artifex Egregius;

  Quo Simulatae Religionis Larvam Detraxit,

  Et Perduellium Scelera Liberrime Exagitavit;

  Scriptorum In suo Genere, Primus Et Postremus.

  Ne, Cui Vivo Deerant Fere Omnia,

  Deesset Etiam Mortuo Tumulus,

  Hoc Tandem Posito Marmore, Curavit

  Johannes Barber, Civis Londinensis, 1721.

 

 

 

After His Death Were Published three Small Volumes Of His Posthumous

Works; I Know Not By Whom Collected, Or By What Authority

Ascertained[65]; And, Lately, Two Volumes More Have Been Printed by Mr.

Thyer, Of Manchester, Indubitably Genuine. From None Of These Pieces Can

His Life Be Traced, Or His Character Discovered. Some Verses, In the

Last Collection, Show Him To Have Been Among Those Who Ridiculed the

Institution Of The Royal Society, Of Which The Enemies Were, For Some

Time, Very Numerous And Very Acrimonious; For What Reason It Is Hard To

Conceive, Since The Philosophers Professed not To Advance Doctrines, But

To Produce Facts: And The Most Zealous Enemy Of Innovation Must Admit

The Gradual Progress Of Experience, However He May Oppose Hypothetical

Temerity.

 

 

 

In This Mist Of Obscurity Passed the Life Of Butler, A Man Whose Name Can

Only Perish With His Language. The Mode And Place Of His Education Are

Unknown; The Events Of His Life Are Variously Related; And All That Can

Be Told With Certainty Is, That He Was Poor.

 

 

 

       *       *       *       *       *

 

 

 

The Poem Of Hudibras Is One Of Those Compositions Of Which A Nation

May Justly Boast; As The Images Which It Exhibits Are Domestick, The

Sentiments Unborrowed and Unexpected, And The Strain Of Diction Original

And Peculiar. We Must Not, However, Suffer The Pride, Which We Assume

As The Countrymen Of Butler, To Make Any Encroachment Upon Justice, Nor

Appropriate Those Honours Which Others Have A Right To Share. The Poem Of

Hudibras Is Not Wholly English; The Original Idea Is To Be Found In the

History Of Don Quixote; A Book To Which A Mind Of The Greatest Powers May

Be Indebted without Disgrace.

 

 

 

Cervantes Shows A Man, Who Having, By The Incessant Perusal Of Incredible

Tales, Subjected his Understanding to His Imagination, And Familiarized

His Mind By Pertinacious Meditation To Trains Of Incredible Events, And

Scenes Of Impossible Existence; Goes Out, In the Pride Of Knighthood, To

Redress Wrongs, And Defend Virgins, To Rescue Captive Princesses, And

Tumble Usurpers From Their Thrones; Attended by A Squire, Whose Cunning,

Too Low For The Suspicion Of A Generous Mind, Enables Him Often To Cheat

His Master.

 

 

 

The Hero Of Butler Is A Presbyterian Justice, Who, In the Confidence Of

Legal Authority And The Rage Of Zealous Ignorance, Ranges The Country To

Repress Superstition, And Correct Abuses, Accompanied by An Independent

Clerk, Disputatious And Obstinate, With Whom He Often Debates, But Never

Conquers Him.

 

 

 

Cervantes Had So Much Kindness For Don Quixote, That, However He

Embarrasses Him With Absurd Distresses, He Gives Him So Much Sense And

Virtue As May Preserve Our Esteem; Wherever He Is, Or Whatever He Does,

He Is Made, By Matchless Dexterity, Commonly Ridiculous, But Never

Contemptible.

 

 

 

But For Poor Hudibras, His Poet Had No Tenderness; He Chooses Not That

Any Pity Should Be Shown, Or Respect Paid Him; He Gives Him Up At Once To

Laughter And Contempt, Without Any Quality That Can Dignify Or Protect

Him.

 

 

 

In Forming the Character Of Hudibras, And Describing his Person And

Habiliments, The Author Seems To Labour With A Tumultuous Confusion Of

Dissimilar Ideas. He Had Read The History Of The Mock Knights-Errant; He

Knew The Notions And Manners Of A Presbyterian Magistrate, And Tried to

Unite The Absurdities Of Both, However Distant, In one Personage. Thus He

Gives Him That Pedantick Ostentation Of Knowledge Which Has No Relation

To Chivalry, And Loads Him With Martial Encumbrances That Can Add Nothing

To His Civil Dignity. He Sends Him Out A "Colonelling," And Yet Never

Brings Him Within Sight Of War.

 

 

 

If Hudibras Be Considered as The Representative Of The Presbyterians, It

Is Not Easy To Say Why His Weapons Should Be Represented as Ridiculous Or

Useless; For, Whatever Judgment Might Be Passed upon Their Knowledge Or

Their Arguments, Experience Had Sufficiently Shown That Their Swords Were

Not To Be Despised. The Hero, Thus Compounded of Swaggerer And Pedant, Of

Knight And Justice, Is Led forth To Action, With His Squire Ralpho, An

Independent Enthusiast.

 

 

 

Of The Contexture Of Events Planned by The Author, Which Is Called the

Action Of The Poem, Since It Is Left Imperfect, No Judgment Can He

Made. It Is Probable, That The Hero Was To Be Led through Many Luckless

Adventures, Which Would Give Occasion, Like His Attack Upon The "Bear

And Fiddle," To Expose The Ridiculous Rigour Of The Sectaries; Like His

Encounter With Sidrophel And Whacum, To Make Superstition And Credulity

Contemptible; Or, Like His Recourse To The Low Retailer Of The Law,

Discover The Fraudulent Practices Of Different Professions.

 

 

 

What Series Of Events He Would Have Formed, Or In what Manner He Would

Have Rewarded or Punished his Hero, It Is Now Vain To Conjecture. His

Work Must Have Had, As It Seems, The Defect Which Dryden Imputes To

Spenser; The Action Could Not Have Been One; There Could Only Have Been

A Succession Of Incidents, Each Of Which Might Have Happened without The

Rest, And Which Could Not All Cooperate To Any Single Conclusion.

 

 

 

The Discontinuity Of The Action Might, However, Have Been Easily

Forgiven, If There Had Been Action Enough; But, I Believe, Every Reader

Regrets The Paucity Of Events, And Complains That, In the Poem Of

Hudibras, As In the History Of Thucydides, There Is More Said Than Done.

The Scenes Are Too Seldom Changed, And The Attention Is Tired with Long

Conversation.

 

 

 

It Is, Indeed, Much More Easy To Form Dialogues Than To Contrive

Adventures. Every Position Makes Way For An Argument, And Every Objection

Dictates An Answer. When Two Disputants Are Engaged upon A Complicated

And Extensive Question, The Difficulty Is Not To Continue, But To End

The Controversy. But Whether It Be That We Comprehend But Few Of The

Possibilities Of Life, Or That Life Itself Affords Little Variety, Every

Man, Who Has Tried, Knows How Much Labour It Will Cost To Form Such A

Combination Of Circumstances As Shall Have, At Once, The Grace Of Novelty

And Credibility, And Delight Fancy

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