Volume IV Part 10 (1/2)
Or stratagems of war, or schemes of state?
Dost thou recall to mind, with joy or grief, Great Marlbro's actions? that immortal chief, Whose highest trophy, rais'd in each campaign, More than suffic'd to signalize a reign.
Does thy remembrance rising, warm thy heart With glory past, where thou thyself had'st part; Or do'st thou grieve indignant, now to see The fruitless end of all thy victory!
To see th' audacious foe, so late subdu'd, Dispute those terms for which so long they su'd, As if Britannia now were sunk so low, To beg that peace she wanted to bestow.
Be far, that guilt! be never known that shame!
That England should retract her rightful claim!
Or ceasing to be dreaded and ador'd, Stain with her pen the l.u.s.tre of her sword.
Or dost thou give the winds, a-far to blow, Each vexing thought, and heart-devouring woe, And fix thy mind alone on rural scenes, To turn the levell'd lawns to liquid plains; To raise the creeping rills from humble beds, And force the latent springs to lift their heads; On watry columns capitals to rear, That mix their flowing curls with upper air?
Or dost thou, weary grown, late works neglect, No temples, statues, obelisks erect; But catch the morning breeze from fragrant meads.
Or shun the noon-tide ray in wholesome shades; Or lowly walk along the mazy wood, To meditate on all that's wise and good: For nature, bountiful, in thee has join'd, A person pleasing, with a worthy mind, Not giv'n the form alone, but means and art, To draw the eye, or to allure the heart.
Poor were the praise, in fortune to excel, Yet want the way to use that fortune well.
While thus adorn'd, while thus with virtue crown'd, At home in peace; abroad, in arms renown'd; Graceful in form, and winning in address, While well you think, what aptly you express; With health, with honour, with a fair estate, A table free, and elegantly neat.
What can be added more to mortal bliss?
What can he want that stands possest of this?
What can the fondest wis.h.i.+ng mother more, Of heav'n attentive, for her son implore?
And yet, a happiness remains unknown, Or to philosophy reveal'd alone; A precept which, unpractis'd, renders vain Thy flowing hopes, and pleasure turns to pain.
Shou'd hope and fear thy heart alternate tear, Or love, or hate, or rage, or anxious care, Whatever pa.s.sions may thy mind infest, (Where is that mind which pa.s.sions ne'er molest?) Amidst the pangs of such intestine strife, Still think the present day the last of life; Defer not 'till to-morrow to be wise, To-morrow's sun to thee may never rise; Or shou'd to-morrow chance to chear thy sight, With her enliv'ning, and unlook'd-for light.
How grateful will appear her dawning rays!
Its favours unexpected doubly please.
Who thus can think, and who such thoughts pursues, Content may keep his life, or calmly lose.
All proofs of this, thou may'st thyself receive, When leisure from affairs will give thee leave.
Come, see thy friend retir'd, without regret, Forgetting care, or striving to forget, In easy contemplation, soothing time With morals much, and now and then with rhyme; Not so robust in body as in mind, And always undejected, tho' declin'd; Not wond'ring at the world's new wicked ways, Compar'd with those of our fore-father's days: For virtue now is neither more or less, And vice is only vary'd in the dress: Believe it, men have ever been the same, And OVID'S GOLDEN AGE is but a dream.
We shall conclude the life of this eminent wit, with the testimony of Mr. Pope in his favour, from the close of his postscript to the translation of Homer: It is in every respect so honourable, that it would be injurious to Mr. Congreve to omit it.--His words are--'Instead of endeavouring to raise a vain monument to myself, let me leave behind me a memorial of my friends.h.i.+p with one of the most valuable men, as well as the finest writers of my age and country.
One who has tried, and knows by his own experience, how hard an undertaking it is to do justice to Homer, and one who I'm sure sincerely rejoices with me at the period of my labours. To him therefore, having brought this long work to a conclusion, I desire to dedicate it, and have the honour and satisfaction of placing together in this manner, the names of Mr. Congreve and of
A. POPE.
[Footnote A: General Dictionary.]
[Footnote B: Wilson's Memoirs of Congreve.]
[Footnote C: Yet Maskwell purposely talks to himself, designing to be overheard by Lord Touchwood; undoubtedly an error in the conduit, and want of art in the author. This he seems here to forget, or would not remember it.]
Sir JOHN VANBRUGH,
This Gentleman was descended from an antient family in Ches.h.i.+re, which came originally from France; though by the name it would appear to be of Dutch extraction. He received a very liberal education, and became eminent for his poetry, and skill in architecture, to both which he discovered an early propension. It is somewhat remarkable in the History of Poetry, that when the spirit of Tragedy, in a great measure, declined, when Otway and Lee were dead, and Dryden was approaching to old age, that Comedy should then begin to flourish; at an aera, which one would not have expected to prove auspicious to the cause of mirth.
Much about the same time rose Mr. Congreve, and Sir John Vanbrugh; who, without any invidious reflection on the genius of others, gave a new life to the stage, and restored it to reputation, which before their appearance had been for some time sinking. Happy would it have been for the world, and some advantage to the memory of those comic writers, if they had discovered their wit, without any mixture of that licentiousness, which while it pleased, tended to corrupt the audience. The first step our author made into life, was in the character of an ensign in the army. He was possessed of a very ready wit, and an agreeable elocution. He happened somewhere in his winter quarters, to contract an acquaintance with Sir Thomas Skipwith, and received a particular obligation from him. He had very early discovered a taste for dramatic writing, to improve which he made some attempts in that way, and had the draft or out-lines of two plays lying by him, at the time his acquaintance commenced with Sir Thomas.