Theophilus Cibber - The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland (1753)

T >> Theophilus Cibber >> The Lives of the Poets of Great Britain and Ireland (1753)

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After having lived to a good old age, admired by all, though
personally known but to few, he died September 25, 1680, and was
buried at the expence of his good friend Mr. Longueville of the
Temple, in the church-yard of St. Paul's Covent-Garden. Mr.
Longueville had a strong inclination to have him buried in Westminster
Abbey, and spoke with that view to several persons who had been his
admirers, offering to pay his part, but none of them would contribute;
upon which he was interred privately, Mr. Longueville, and seven or
eight more, following him to the grave. Mr. Alderman Barber erected a
monument to Butler in Westminster-Abbey.

The poem entitled Hudibras, by which he acquired so high a reputation,
was published at three different times; the first part came out in
1668 in 8vo. afterwards came out the second part, and both were
printed together, with several additions, and annotations; at last,
the third and last part was published, but without any annotations, as
appears by the printed copy 1678. The great success and peculiarity of
manner of this poem has produced many unsuccessful imitations of it,
and some vain attempts have been made to translate some parts of it
into Latin. Monsieur Voltaire gives it a very good character, and
justly observes, that though there are as many thoughts as words in
it, yet it cannot be successfully translated, on account of every
line's having some allusion to English affairs, which no foreigner can
be supposed to understand, or enter into. The Oxford antiquary
ascribes to our author two pamphlets, supposed falsely, he says, to be
William Prynne's; the one entitled Mola Asinaria, or the Unreasonable
and Insupportable Burthen pressed upon the Shoulders of this Groaning
Nation, London 1659, in one sheet 4to. the other, Two Letters: One
from John Audland, a Quaker, to William Prynne; the other, Prynne's
Answer, in three sheets fol. 1672. The life writer mentions a small
poem in one sheet in 4to. on Du Val, a notorious highwayman, said to
be written by Butler. These pieces, with a great many others, are
published together, under the title of his Posthumous Works. The life
writer abovementioned has preserved a fragment of Mr. Butler's, given
by one whom he calls the ingenious Mr. Aubrey, who assured him he had
it from the poet himself; it is indeed admirable, and the satire
sufficiently pungent against the priests.

No jesuit e'er took in hand
To plant a church in barren land;
Nor ever thought it worth the while
A Swede or Russ to reconcile.
For where there is no store of wealth,
Souls are not worth the charge of health.
Spain in America had two designs:
To sell their gospel for their mines:
For had the Mexicans been poor,
No Spaniard twice had landed on their shore.
'Twas gold the Catholic religion planted,
Which, had they wanted gold, they still had wanted.

Mr. Dryden[3] and Mr. Addison[4] have joined in giving testimony
against our author, as to the choice of his verse, which they condemn
as boyish and being apt to degenerate into the doggrel; but while they
censure his verse, they applaud his matter, and Dryden observes, that
had he chose any other verse, he would even then have excelled; as we
say of a court favourite, that whatever his office be, he still makes
it uppermost, and most beneficial to him.

We cannot close the life of this great man, without a reflection on
the degeneracy of those times, which suffered him to languish in
obscurity; and though he had done more against the Puritan interest,
by exposing it to ridicule, than thousands who were rioting at court
with no pretensions to favour, yet he was never taken notice of, nor
had any calamity redressed, which leaves a stain on those who then
ruled, that never can be obliterated. A minister of state seldom fails
to reward a court tool, and a man of pleasure pays his instruments for
their infamy, and what character must that ministration bear, who
allow wit, loyalty and virtue to pass neglected, and, as Cowley
pathetically expresses it,

'In that year when manna rained on all, why
should the muses fleece be only dry.'

The following epigram is not unworthy [of] a place here.

Whilst Butler, needy wretch, was yet alive,
No gen'rous patron would a dinner give;
But lo behold! when dead, the mould'ring dust,
Rewarded with a monumental bust!
A poet's fate, in emblem here is shewn,
He ask'd for bread, and he received--a stone.

Footnotes:
1. Life of Butler, p 6.
2. Posthumous Works of Wycherly, published by Mr. Theobald.
3. Juv. Ded.
4. Spect. No. 6. Vol. i.

* * * * *

EDMUND WALLER Esq;

Was descended of a family of his name in Buckinghamshire, a younger
branch of the Wallers of Kent. He was born March 3, 1605 at Coleshill,
which gives Warwickshire the honour of his birth. His father dying
when he was very young, the care of his education fell to his mother,
who sent him to Eton School, according to the author of his life, but
Mr. Wood says, 'that he was mostly educated in grammaticals under one
Dobson, minister of Great Wycombe in Bucks, who had been educated in
Eton school,' without mentioning that Mr. Waller had been at all at
Eton school: after he had acquired grammar learning, he was removed to
King's college in Cambridge, and it is manifest that he must have been
extremely assiduous in his studies, since he acquired so fine a taste
of the ancients, in so short a time, for at sixteen or seventeen years
of age, he was chosen into the last Parliament of King James I. and
served as Burgess for Agmondesham.

In the year 1623, when Prince Charles nearly escaped being cast away
in the road of St. Andre, coming from Spain, Mr. Waller wrote a Poem
on that occasion, at an age when, generally speaking, persons of the
acutest parts just begin to shew themselves, and at a time when the
English poetry had scarce any grace in it. In the year 1628 he
addressed a Poem to his Majesty, on his hearing the news of the duke
of Buckingham's death, which, with the former, procured him general
admiration: harmony of numbers being at that time so great a novelty,
and Mr. Waller having, at once, so polished and refined versification,
it is no wonder that he enjoyed the felicity of an universal applause.
These poems recommended him to court-favour, and rendered him dear to
persons of the best taste and distinction that then flourished. A
Writer of his life observes, as a proof of his being much caressed by
people of the first reputation, that he was one of the famous club, of
which the great lord Falkland, Sir Francis Wainman, Mr. Chillingworth,
Mr. Godolphin, and other eminent men were members. These were the
immortals of that age, and to be associated with them, is one of the
highest encomiums which can possibly be bestowed, and exceeds the most
laboured strain of a panegyrist.

A circumstance related of this club, is pretty remarkable: One
evening, when they were convened, a great noise was heard in the
street, which not a little alarmed them, and upon enquiring the cause,
they were told, that a son of Ben Johnson's was arrested. This club
was too generous to suffer the child of one, who was the genuine son
of Apollo, to be carried to a Jail, perhaps for a trifle: they sent
for him, but in place of being Ben Johnson's son, he proved to be Mr.
George Morley, afterwards bishop of Winchester. Mr. Waller liked him
so well, that he paid the debt, which was no less than one hundred
pounds, on condition that he would live with him at Beconsfield, which
he did eight or ten years together, and from him Mr. Waller used to
say, that he learned a taste of the ancient poets, and got what he had
of their manner. But it is evident from his poems, written before this
incident of Mr. Morley's arrest, that he had early acquired that
exquisite Spirit; however, he might have improved it afterwards, by
the conversation and assistance of Mr. Morley, to whom this adventure
proved very advantageous.

It is uncertain, at what time our author was married, but, it is
supposed, that his first wife Anne, daughter and heir of Edward Banks,
esq; was dead before he fell in love with lady Dorothy Sidney,
daughter to the earl of Leicester, whom he celebrates under the name
of Sacharissa. Mr. Waller's passion for this lady, has been the
subject of much conversation; his verses, addressed to her, have been
renowned for their delicacy, and Sacharissa has been proposed, as a
model to succeeding poets, in the celebration of their mistresses. One
cannot help wishing, that the poet had been as successful in his
Addresses to her, as he has been in his love-strains, which are
certainly the sweetest in the world. The difference of station, and
the pride of blood, perhaps, was the occasion, that Sacharissa never
became the wife of Waller; though in reality, as Mr. Waller was a
gentleman, a member of parliament, and a person of high reputation, we
cannot, at present, see so great a disproportion: and, as Mr. Waller
had fortune, as well as wit and poetry, lord Leicester's daughter
could not have been disgraced by such an alliance. At least we are
sure of one thing, that she lives for ever in Waller's strains, a
circumstance, which even her beauty could not have otherwise procured,
nor the lustre of the earl of Sunderland, whom she afterwards married:
the countess of Sunderland, like the radiant circles of that age, long
before this time would have slept in oblivion, but the Sacharissa of
Waller is consigned to immortality, and can never die but with poetry,
taste, and politeness.

Upon the marriage of that lady to lord Spenser, afterwards earl of
Sunderland, which was solemnized July 11, 1639, Mr. Waller wrote the
following letter to lady Lucy Sidney, her sister, which is so full of
gallantry, and so elegantly turned, that it will doubtedly give
pleasure to our readers to peruse it.

MADAM,

'In this common joy at Penshurst[1], I know, none to whom complaints
may come less unseasonable than to your ladyship, the loss of a
bedfellow, being almost equal to that of a mistress, and therefore you
ought, at least, to pardon, if you consent not to the imprecations of
the deserted, which just Heaven no doubt will hear. May my lady
Dorothy, if we may yet call her so, suffer as much, and have the like
passion for this young lord, whom she has preferred to the rest of
mankind, as others have had for her; and may his love, before the year
go about, make her taste of the first curse imposed upon womankind,
the pains of becoming a mother. May her first born be none of her own
sex, nor so like her, but that he may resemble her lord, as much as
herself. May she, that always affected silence and retirement, have
the house filled with the noise and number of her children, and
hereafter of her grand-children; and then may she arrive at that great
curse, so much declined by fair ladies, old age; may she live to be
very old, and yet seem young; be told so by her glass, and have no
aches to inform her of the truth; and when she shall appear to be
mortal, may her lord not mourn for her, but go hand in hand with her
to that place, where we are told there is neither marrying, nor giving
in marriage, that being there divorced, we may all have an equal
interest in her again! my revenge being immortal, I wish all this may
befall her posterity to the world's end, and afterwards! To you,
madam, I wish all good things, and that this loss may, in good time,
be happily supplied, with a more constant bedfellow of the other sex.
Madam, I humbly kiss your hands, and beg pardon for this trouble, from

'Your ladyship's
'most humble servant,
'E. WALLER.'

He lived to converse with lady Sunderland when she was very old, but
his imprecations relating to her glass did not succeed, for my lady
knew she had the disease which nothing but death could cure; and in a
conversation with Mr. Waller, and some other company at lady
Wharton's, she asked him in raillery, 'When, Mr. Waller, will you
write such fine verses upon me again?' 'Oh Madam,' said he, 'when your
ladyship is as young again.'

In the year 1640, Mr. Waller was returned Burgess for Agmondesham, in
which Parliament he opposed the court measures. The writer of his life
observes[2], 'that an intermission of Parliaments for 12 years
disgusted the nation, and the House met in no good humour to give
money. It must be confessed, some late proceedings had raised such
jealousies as would be sure to discover themselves, whenever the King
should come to ask for a supply; and Mr. Waller was one of the first
to condemn those measures. A speech he made in the House upon this
occasion, printed at the end of his poems, gives us some notion of his
principles as to government.' Indeed we cannot but confess he was a
little too inconstant in them, and was not naturally so steady, as he
was judicious; which variable temper was the cause of his losing his
reputation, in a great measure, with both parties, when the nation
became unhappily divided. His love to poetry, and his indolence, laid
him open to the insinuations of others, and perhaps prevented his
fixing so resolutely to any one party, as to make him a favourite with
either. As Mr. Waller did not come up to the heighths of those who
were for unlimited monarchy, so he did not go the lengths of such as
would have sunk the kingdom into a commonwealth, but had so much
credit at court, that in this parliament the King particularly sent to
him, to second his demands of some subsidies to pay the army; and Sir
Henry Vane objecting against first voting a supply, because the King
would not accept it, unless it came up to his proportion; Mr. Waller
spoke earnestly to Sir Thomas Jermyn, comptroller of the houshold, to
save his master from the effects of so bold a falsity; for, says he, I
am but a country gentleman, and cannot pretend to know the King's
mind: but Sir Thomas durst not contradict the secretary; and his son
the earl of St. Alban's, afterwards told Mr. Waller, that his father's
cowardice ruined the King.

In the latter end of the year 1642, he was one of the commissioners
appointed by the Parliament, to present their propositions for peace
to his Majesty at Oxford. Mr. Whitelocke, in his Memorials, tells us,
that when Mr. Waller kissed the King's hand in the garden at Christ's
Church, his Majesty said to him, 'though you are last, yet you are not
the worst, nor the least in our favour.' The discovery of a plot,
continues Mr. Whitelocke, 'then in hand in London to betray the
Parliament, wherein Mr. Waller was engaged, with Chaloner, Tomkins,
and others, which was then in agitation, did manifest the King's
courtship of Mr. Waller to be for that service.'

In the beginning of the year 1643, our poet was deeply engaged in the
design for the reducing the city of London, and the Tower, for the
service of his Majesty, which being discovered, he was imprisoned, and
fined ten thousand pounds. As this is one of the most memorable
circumstances in the life of Waller, we shall not pass it slightly
over, but give a short detail of the rise, progress, and discovery of
this plot, which issued not much in favour of Mr. Waller's reputation.

Lord Clarendon observes[3], 'that Mr. Waller was a gentleman of very
good fortune and estate, and of admirable parts, and faculties of wit
and eloquence, and of an intimate conversation and familiarity with
those who had that reputation. He had, from the beginning of the
Parliament, been looked upon by all men, as a person of very entire
affections to the King's service, and to the established government of
church and state; and by having no manner of relation to the court,
had the more credit and interest to promote the service of it. When
the ruptures grew so great between the King, and the two houses, that
many of the Members withdrew from those councils, he, among the rest,
absented himself, but at the time the standard was set up, having
intimacy and friendship with some persons now of nearness about the
King, with his Majesty's leave he returned again to London, where he
spoke, upon all occasions, with great sharpness and freedom, which was
not restrained, and therefore used as an argument against those who
were gone upon pretence, that they were not suffered to declare their
opinion freely in the House; which could not be believed, when all men
knew what liberty Mr. Waller took, and spoke every day with impunity,
against the proceedings of the House; this won him a great reputation
with all people who wished well to the King; and he was looked upon as
the boldest champion the crown had in either House, so that such Lords
and Commons who were willing to prevent the ruin of the kingdom,
complied in a great familiarity with him, at a man resolute in their
ends, and best able to promote them; and it may be, they believed his
reputation at court so good, that he would be no ill evidence there of
other men's zeal and affection; so all men spoke their minds freely to
him, both of the general distemper, and of the passions and ambition
of particular persons, all men knowing him to be of too good a
fortune, and too wary a nature, to engage himself in designs of
hazard.'

Mr. Tomkins already mentioned, had married Waller's sister, and was
clerk of the Queen' council, and of very good fame for honesty and
ability; great interest and reputation in the city, and conversed much
with those who disliked the proceedings of the Parliament, from whom
he learned the dispositions of the citizens on all accidents, which he
freely communicated to his brother Waller, as the latter imparted to
him whatever observations he made from those with whom he conversed.
Mr. Waller told him, that many lords and commons were for a peace. Mr.
Tomkins made the same relation with respect to the most substantial
men of London, which Mr. Waller reported to the well affected members
of both houses; and Mr. Tomkins to the well affected citizens; whence
they came to a conclusion, that if they heartily united in the mutual
assistance of one another, they should be able to prevent those
tumults which seemed to countenance the distractions, and both parties
would be excited to moderation. The lord Conway at that time coming
from Ireland incensed against the Scotch, discontented with the
Parliament here, and finding Waller in good esteem with the earl of
Nor[t]humberland, and in great friendship with the earl of Portland,
entered into the same familiarity; and being a soldier, in the
discourses they had, he insinuated, it was convenient to enquire into
the numbers of the well affected in the city, that they might know
whom they had to trust to. Mr. Waller telling Mr. Tomkins this, the
latter imparted it to his confidents there; and it was agreed, that
some trusty persons in every ward and parish about London should make
a list of all the inhabitants, and by guessing at their several
affections, compute the strength of that party which opposed an
accommodation, and that which was for it.

Lord Clarendon declares, that he believes this design, was to beget
such a combination among the well affected parties, that they would
refuse to conform to those ordinances of the twentieth part, and other
taxes for the support of the war; and thereby or by joint petitioning
for peace, and discountenancing the other who petitioned against it,
to prevail with the Parliament to incline to a determination of the
war, 'but that there ever was, says the earl, 'any formed design
either of letting the King's army into London, which was impossible to
be effected, or raising an army there, and surprizing the Parliament,
or any person of it, or of using any violence in, or upon the city, I
could never yet see cause to believe.' But it unluckily happened, that
while this combination was on foot, Sir Nicholas Crisp procured a
commission of array to be sent from Oxford to London, which was
carried by the lady Aubigny, and delivered to a gentleman employed by
Sir Nicholas to take it of her; and this being discovered at the same
time Mr. Waller's plot was, the two conspiracies were blended into
one; tho' the earl of Clarendon is satisfied that they were two
distinct designs. His lordship relates the discovery of Mr. Waller's
plot in this manner: 'A servant of Mr. Tomkins, who had often
cursorily overheard his master and Mr. Waller discourse of the subject
which we are upon, placed himself behind the hangings, at a time when
they were together; and there whilst either of them discovered the
language and opinion of the company which they kept, overheard enough
to make him believe, that his information and discovery could make him
welcome to those whom he thought concerned, and so went to Mr. Pym,
and acquainted him with all he had heard, or probably imagined. The
time when Mr. Pym was made acquainted with it, is not known; but the
circumstance of publishing it was such as filled all men with
apprehensions.'

'It was on Wednesday the 31st of May, their solemn fast day, when
being all at their sermon in St. Margaret's church, Westminster,
according to their custom, a letter or message was brought privately
to Mr. Pym; who thereupon with some of the most active members rose
from their seats, and after a little whispering together, removed out
of the church. This could not but exceedingly affect those who stayed
behind. Immediately they sent guards to all the prisons, at
Lambeth-house, Ely-house, and such places where malignants were in
custody, with directions to search the prisoners, and some other
places which they thought fit should be suspected. After the sermon
was ended, the houses met, and were only then told, that letters were
intercepted going to the King and the court at Oxford, which expressed
some notable conspiracy in hand, to deliver up the Parliament and the
city into the hands of the Cavaliers; and that the time for the
execution of it drew near. Hereupon a committee was appointed to
examine all persons they thought fit, and to apprehend some nominated
at that time; and the same night this committee apprehended Mr. Waller
and Mr. Tomkins, and the next day such as they suspected.'

The Houses were, or seemed to be, so alarmed with the discovery of the
plot, that six days after they took a sacred vow and covenant, which
was also taken by the city and army, denouncing war against the King
more directly than they had done before. The earl of Portland and lord
Conway were imprisoned on Mr. Waller's accusation, and often
confronted with him before the committee, where they as peremptorily
denying, as he charging them, and there being no other witness but him
against them, they were kept a while in restraint, and then bailed.
Mr. Waller, after he had had 'says the earl of Clarendon, with
incredible dissimulation, acted such a remorse of conscience, that his
trial was put off out of christian compassion, till he should recover
his understanding (and that was not till the heat and fury of the
prosecutors was abated by the sacrifices they had made) and by drawing
visitants to himself of the most powerful ministers of all factions,
had by his liberality and penitence, his receiving vulgar and vile
sayings from them with humility and reverence, as clearer convictions,
and informations than in his life he had ever had; and distributing
great sums to them for their prayers and ghostly council, so satisfied
them, that they satisfied others; was brought at his suit to the bar
of the House of Commons on on the 4th of July 1643, where being a man
in truth very powerful in language, and who, by what he spoke, and the
manner of speaking it, exceedingly captivated the good will, and
benevolence of his hearers, with such flattery, as was most exactly
calculated to that meridian, with such a submission as their pride
took delight in, and such a dejection of mind and spirit, as was like
to couzen the major part. He laid before them, their own danger and
concernment if they should suffer one of their body, how unworthy and
monstrous soever, to be tried by the soldiers, who might thereby grow
to such power hereafter, that they would both try those they would not
be willing should be tried, and for things which they would account no
crime, the inconvenience and insupportable mischief whereof wise
commonwealths had foreseen and prevented, by exempting their own
members from all judgments but their own. He prevailed, not to be
tried by a Council of War, and thereby preserved his dear-bought life;
so that in truth he did as much owe the keeping his head to that
oration, as Cataline did the loss of his to those of Tully; and having
done ill, very well, he by degrees drew that respect to his parts,
which always carries some companion to the person, that he got leave
to compound for his transgression and them to accept of ten thousand
pounds for his liberty; whereupon he had leave to recollect himself in
another country (for his liberty was to be banishment) how miserable
he had made himself in obtaining that leave to live out of his own.
And there cannot be a greater evidence of the inestimable value of his
parts, than that he lived in the good affection and esteem of many,
the pity of most, and the reproach and scorn of few, or none.'

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