Lives Of The Poets, Vol. 1 (fiscle part-III) by Samuel Johnson (audio ebook reader txt) 📕

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