Lives Of The Poets, Vol. 1 (fiscle part-III), Samuel Johnson [good summer reads .TXT] 📗
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John Philips Was Born On The 30Th Of December, 1676, At Bampton, In
Oxfordshire; Of Which Place His Father, Dr. Stephen Philips, Archdeacon
Of Salop, Was Minister. The First Part Of His Education Was Domestick;
After Which He Was Sent To Winchester, Where, As We Are Told By Dr.
Sewel, His Biographer, He Was Soon Distinguished by The Superiority Of
His Exercises; And, What Is Less Easily To Be Credited, So Much Endeared
Himself To His Schoolfellows, By His Civility And Good Nature, That
They, Without Murmur Or Ill Will, Saw Him Indulged by The Master With
Particular Immunities. It Is Related, That, When He Was At School, He
Seldom Mingled in play With The Other Boys, But Retired to His Chamber;
Where His Sovereign Pleasure Was To Sit, Hour After Hour, While His Hair
Was Combed by Somebody, Whose Service He Found Means To Procure.[90]
At School He Became Acquainted with The Poets, Ancient And Modern, And
Fixed his Attention Particularly On Milton.
In 1694, He Entered himself At Christ Church; A College, At That Time, In
The Highest Reputation, By The Transmission Of Busby'S Scholars To The
Care First Of Fell, And Afterwards Of Aldrich. Here He Was Distinguished
As A Genius Eminent Among The Eminent, And For Friendship Particularly
Intimate With Mr. Smith, The Author Of Phaedra And Hippolytus. The
Profession Which He Intended to Follow Was That Of Physick; And He Took
Much Delight In natural History, Of Which Botany Was His Favourite Part.
His Reputation Was Confined to His Friends And To The University; Till,
About 1703, He Extended it To A Wider Circle By The Splendid Shilling,
Which Struck The Publick Attention With A Mode Of Writing new And
Unexpected.
This Performance Raised him So High, That, When Europe Resounded with
The Victory Of Blenheim, He Was, Probably, With An Occult Opposition To
Addison, Employed to Deliver The Acclamation Of The Tories. It Is Said
That He Would Willingly Have Declined the Task, But That His Friends
Urged it Upon Him. It Appears That He Wrote This Poem At The House Of Mr.
St. John.
Blenheim Was Published in 1705. The Next Year Produced his Greatest Work,
The Poem Upon Cider, In two Books; Which Was Received with Loud Praises,
And Continued long To Be Read, As An Imitation Of Virgil'S Georgicks,
Which Needed not Shun The Presence Of The Original.
He Then Grew Probably More Confident Of His Own Abilities, And Began To
Meditate A Poem On The Last Day; A Subject On Which No Mind Can Hope To
Equal Expectation.
This Work He Did Not Live To Finish; His Diseases, A Slow Consumption
And An Asthma, Put A Stop To His Studies, And On Feb. 15, 1708, At The
Beginning of His Thirty-Third Year, Put An End To His Life.
He Was Buried in the Cathedral Of Hereford; And Sir Simon Harcourt,
Afterwards Lord Chancellor, Gave Him A Monument In westminster Abbey.
The Inscription At Westminster Was Written, As I Have Heard, By Dr.
Atterbury, Though Commonly Given To Dr. Freind.
His Epitaph At Hereford:
Johannes Philips
Obijt 15 Die Feb. Anno Dom. 1708., Aetat Suae 32.
Cujus
Ossa Si Requiras, Hanc Urnam Inspice:
Si Ingenium Nescias, Ipsius Opera Consule;
Si Tumulum Desideras,
Templum Adi Westmonasteriense:
Qualis Quantusque Vir Fuerit,
Dicat Elegans Illa Et Praeclara,
Quae Cenotaphium Ibi Decorat,
Inscriptio.
Quam Interim Erga Cognatos Pius Et Officiosus,
Testetur Hoc Saxum
A Maria Philips Matre Ipsius Pientissima
Dilecti Filii Memoriae Non Sine Lacrymis Dicatum.
His Epitaph At Westminster:
Herefordiae Conduntur Ossa,
Hoc In delubro Statuitur Imago,
Britanniam Omnem Pervagatur Fama,
Johannis Philips:
Qui Viris Bonis Doctisque Juxta Charus,
Immortale Suum Ingenium,
Eruditione Multiplici Excultum,
Miro Animi Candore,
Eximia Morum Simplicitate,
Honestavit.
Litterarum Amoeniorum Sitim,
Quam Wintoniae Puer Sentire Coeperat,
Inter Aedis Christi Alumnos Jugiter Explevit.
In illo Musarum Domicilio
Praeclaris Aemulorum Studiis Excitatus,
Optimis Scribendi Magistris Semper Intentus,
Carmina Sermone Patrio Composuit
A Graecis Latinisque Fontibus Feliciter Deducta,
Atticis Romanisque Auribus Omnino Digna,
Versuum Quippe Harmoniam
Rythmo Didicerat,
Antiquo Illo, Libero, Multiformi,
Ad Res Ipsas Apto Prorsus, Et Attemperato,
Non Numeris In eundem Fere Orbem Redeuntibus,
Non Clausularum Similiter Cadentium Sono
Metiri:
Uni In hoc Landis Genere Miltono Secundus,
Primoque Poene Par.
Res Seu Tenues, Seu Grandes, Sen Mediocres
Ornandas Sumserat,
Nusquam, Non Quod Decuit,
Et Vidit, Et Assecutus Est,
Egregius, Quocunque Stylum Verteret,
Fandi Author, Et Modorum Artifex.
Fas Sit Huic,
Auso Licet A Tua Metrorum Lege Discedere,
O Poesis Anglicanae Pater, Atque Conditor, Chaucere,
Alterum Tibi Latus Claudere,
Vatum Certe Cineres Tuos Undique Stipantium
Non Dedecebit Chorum.
Simon Hahcoukt, Miles,
Viri Bene De Se, De Litteris Meriti,
Quoad Viveret Fautor,
Post Obitum Pie Memor,
Hoc Illi Saxum Poni Voluit.
J. Philips, Stephani, S. T. P. Archidiaconi
Salop. Filius, Natus Est Bamptoniae
In agro Oxon. Dec. 30, 1676.
Obijt Herefordiae, Feb. 15, 1708.
Philips Has Been Always Praised, Without Contradiction, As A Man Modest,
Blameless, And Pious; Who Bore Narrowness Of Fortune Without Discontent,
And Tedious And Painful Maladies Without Impatience; Beloved by Those
That Knew Him, But Not Ambitious To Be Known. He Was Probably Not Formed
For A Wide Circle. His Conversation Is Commended for Its Innocent Gaiety,
Which Seems To Have Flowed only Among His Intimates; For I Have Been
Told, That He Was In company Silent And Barren, And Employed only Upon
The Pleasures Of His Pipe. His Addiction To Tobacco Is Mentioned by
One Of His Biographers, Who Remarks, That In all His Writings, Except
Blenheim, He Has Found An Opportunity Of Celebrating the Fragrant Fume.
In Common Life He Was Probably One Of Those Who Please By Not Offending,
And Whose Person Was Loved because His Writings Were Admired. He Died
Honoured and Lamented, Before Any Part Of His Reputation Had Withered,
And Before His Patron St. John Had Disgraced him. His Works Are Few. The
Splendid Shilling has The Uncommon Merit Of An Original Design, Unless It
May Be Thought Precluded by The Ancient Centos. To Degrade The Sounding
Words And Stately Construction Of Milton, By An Application To The Lowest
And Most Trivial Things, Gratifies The Mind With A Momentary Triumph Over
That Grandeur, Which Hitherto Held Its Captives In admiration; The Words
And Things Are Presented with A New Appearance, And Novelty Is Always
Grateful Where It Gives No Pain.
But The Merit Of Such Performances Begins And Ends With The First Author.
He That Should Again Adapt Milton'S Phrase To The Gross Incidents
Of Common Life, And Even Adapt It With More Art, Which Would Not Be
Difficult, Must Yet Expect But A Small Part Of The Praise Which Philips
Has Obtained; He Can Only Hope To Be Considered as The Repeater Of A
Jest.
"The Parody On Milton," Says Gildon, "Is The Only Tolerable Production Of
Its Author." This Is A Censure Too Dogmatical And Violent. The Poem Of
Blenheim Was Never Denied to Be Tolerable, Even By Those Who Do Not
Allow Its Supreme Excellence. It Is, Indeed, The Poem Of A Scholar, "All
Inexpert Of War;" Of A Man Who Writes Books From Books, And Studies The
World In a College. He Seems To Have Formed his Ideas Of The Field Of
Blenheim From The Battles Of The Heroick Ages, Or The Tales Of Chivalry,
With Very Little Comprehension Of The Qualities Necessary To The
Composition Of A Modern Hero, Which Addison Has Displayed with So Much
Propriety. He Makes Marlborough Behold At A Distance The Slaughter Made
By Tallard, Then Haste To Encounter And Restrain Him, And Mow His Way
Through Ranks Made Headless By His Sword.
He Imitates Milton'S Numbers Indeed, But Imitates Them Very
Injudiciously. Deformity Is Easily Copied; And Whatever There Is In
Milton Which The Reader Wishes Away, All That Is Obsolete, Peculiar, Or
Licentious, Is Accumulated with Great Care By Philips. Milton'S Verse Was
Harmonious, In proportion To The General State Of Our Metre In milton'S
Age; And, If He Had Written After The Improvements Made By Dryden, It
Is Reasonable To Believe That He Would Have Admitted a More Pleasing
Modulation Of Numbers Into His Work; But Philips Sits Down With A
Resolution To Make No More Musick Than He Found; To Want All That His
Master Wanted, Though He Is Very Far From Having what His Master Had.
Those Asperities, Therefore, That Are Venerable In the Paradise Lost, Are
Contemptible In the Blenheim.
There Is A Latin Ode Written To His Patron St. John, In return For A
Present Of Wine And Tobacco, Which Cannot Be Passed without Notice. It Is
Gay And Elegant, And Exhibits Several Artful Accommodations Of Classick
Expressions To New Purposes. It Seems Better Turned than The Odes Of
Hannes[91].
To The Poem On Cider, Written In imitation Of The Georgicks, May Be Given
This Peculiar Praise, That It Is Grounded in truth; That The Precepts
Which It Contains Are Exact And Just; And That It Is, Therefore, At Once,
A Book Of Entertainment And Of Science. This I Was Told By Miller, The
Great Gardener And Botanist, Whose Expression Was, That "There Were Many
Books Written On The Same Subject In prose, Which Do Not Contain So Much
Truth As That Poem."
In The Disposition Of His Matter, So As To Intersperse Precepts Relating
To The Culture Of Trees With Sentiments More Generally Alluring, And In
Easy And Graceful Transitions From One Subject To Another, He Has Very
Diligently Imitated his Master; But He, Unhappily, Pleased himself With
Blank Verse, And Supposed that The Numbers Of Milton, Which Impress The
Mind With Veneration, Combined as They Are With Subjects Of Inconceivable
Grandeur, Could Be Sustained by Images Which, At Most, Can Rise Only To
Elegance.
Contending angels May Shake The Regions Of Heaven In blank Verse; But The
Flow Of Equal Measures, And The Embellishment Of Rhyme, Must Recommend
To Our Attention The Art Of Engrafting, And Decide The Merit Of The
Redstreak And Pearmain.
What Study Could Confer, Philips Had Obtained; But Natural Deficience
Cannot Be Supplied. He Seems Not Born To Greatness And Elevation. He Is
Never Lofty, Nor Does He Often Surprise With Unexpected excellence: But,
Perhaps, To His Last Poem May Be Applied what Tully Said Of The Work Of
Lucretius, That "It Is Written With Much Art, Though With Few Blazes Of
Genius."
* * * * *
The Following fragment, Written By Edmund Smith, Upon The Works Of
Philips, Has Been Transcribed from The Bodleian Manuscripts.
"A Prefatory Discourse To The Poem On Mr. Philips, With A Character Of
His Writings.
"It Is Altogether As Equitable Some Account Should Be Given Of Those Who
Have Distinguished themselves By Their Writings, As Of Those Who Are
Renowned for Great Actions. It Is But Reasonable They, Who Contribute
So Much To The Immortality Of Others, Should Have Some Share In it
Themselves; And Since Their Genius Only Is Discovered by Their Works, It
Is Just That Their Virtues Should Be Recorded by Their Friends. For No
Modest Men (As The Person I Write Of Was In perfection) Will Write
Their Own Panegyricks; And It Is Very Hard That They Should Go Without
Reputation, Only Because They The More Deserve It. The End Of Writing
Lives Is For The Imitation Of The Readers. It Will Be In the Power Of
Very Few To Imitate The Duke Of Marlborough: We Must Be Content With
Admiring his Great Qualities And Actions, Without Hopes Of Following
Them. The Private And Social Virtues Are More Easily Transcribed. The
Life Of Cowley Is More Instructive, As Well As More Fine, Than Any We
Have In our Language. And It Is To Be Wished, Since Mr. Philips Had So
Many Of The Good Qualities Of That Poet, That I Had Some Of The Abilities
Of His Historian. The Grecian Philosophers Have Had Their Lives Written,
Their Morals Commended, And Their Sayings Recorded. Mr. Philips Had
All The Virtues To Which Most Of Them Only Pretended, And All Their
Integrity, Without Any Of Their Affectation.
"The French Are Very Just To Eminent Men In this Point; Not A Learned
Man Nor A Poet Can Die, But All Europe Must Be Acquainted with His
Accomplishments. They Give Praise And Expect It In their Turns: They
Commend Their Patrus And Molieres, As Well As Their Condes And Turennes;
Their Pellisons And Racines Have Their Elogies, As Well As The Prince
Whom They Celebrate; And Their Poems, Their Mercuries, And Orations, Nay,
Their Very Gazettes Are Filled with The Praises Of The Learned.
"I
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