“Death, courage, honour, make thy soul to live!—
Thy soul in heaven, thy name in tongues of men!”
19.
Sidney’s Poetry.—In addition to the Arcadia and the
Apologie for Poetrie, Sidney wrote a number of beautiful poems.
The best of these are a series of sonnets called Astrophel and
Stella, of which his latest critic says: “As a series of sonnets,
the Astrophel and Stella poems are second only to
Shakespeare’s; as a series of love-poems, they are perhaps unsurpassed.”
Spenser wrote an elegy upon Sidney himself, under the title of
Astrophel. Sidney’s prose is among the best of the sixteenth
century. “He reads more modern than any other author of that century.”
He does not use “ink-horn terms,” or cram his sentences with Latin or
French or Italian words; but both his words and his idioms are of pure
English. He is fond of using personifications. Such phrases as, “About
the time that the candles began to inherit the sun’s office;” “Seeing
the day begin to disclose her comfortable beauties,” are not uncommon.
The rhythm of his sentences is always melodious, and each of them has a
very pleasant close.
THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
1.
The First Half.—Under the wise and able rule of Queen
Elizabeth, this country had enjoyed a long term of peace. The Spanish
Armada had been defeated in 1588; the Spanish power had gradually waned
before the growing might of England; and it could be said with perfect
truth, in the words of Shakespeare:—
“In her days every man doth eat in safety
Under his own vine what he plants, and sing
The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.”
The country was at peace; and every peaceful art and pursuit
prospered. As one sign of the great prosperity and outstretching
enterprise of commerce, we should note the foundation of the East India
Company on the last day of the year 1600. The reign of James I.
(1603-1625) was also peaceful; and the country made steady progress in
industries, in commerce, and in the arts and sciences. The two greatest
prose-writers of the first half of the seventeenth century were
Raleigh and Bacon; the two greatest poets were
Shakespeare and Ben Jonson.
2.
Sir Walter Raleigh
(1552-1618).—Walter Raleigh, soldier, statesman,
coloniser, historian, and poet, was born in Devonshire, in the year
1552. He was sent to Oriel College, Oxford; but he left at the early age
of seventeen to fight on the side of the Protestants in France. From
that time his life is one long series of schemes, plots,
adventures, and misfortunes—culminating in his execution at
Westminster in the year 1618. He spent “the evening of a tempestuous
life” in the Tower, where he lay for thirteen years; and during this
imprisonment he wrote his greatest work, the History of the
World, which was never finished. His life and adventures belong to
the sixteenth; his works to the seventeenth century. Raleigh was
probably the most dazzling figure of his time; and is “in a singular
degree the representative of the vigorous versatility of the Elizabethan
period.” Spenser, whose neighbour he was for some time in Ireland,
thought highly of his poetry, calls him “the summer’s nightingale,” and
says of him—
“Yet æmuling18 my song, he took in hand
My pipe, before that æmulëd of many,
And played thereon (for well that skill he conn’d),
Himself as skilful in that art as any.”
Raleigh is the author of the celebrated verses, “Go, soul, the body’s
guest;” “Give me my scallop-shell of quiet;” and of the lines which were
written and left in his Bible on the night before he was
beheaded:—
“Even such is time, that takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust;
Who, in the dark and silent grave,
When we have wandered all our ways,
Shuts up the story of our days:
But from this earth, this grave, this dust,
The Lord shall raise me up, I trust!”
Raleigh’s prose has been described as “some of the most flowing and
modern-looking prose of the period;” and there can be no doubt that, if
he had given himself entirely to literature, he would have been one of
the greatest poets and prose-writers of his time. His style is calm,
noble, and melodious. The following is the last sentence of the
History of the World:—
“O eloquent, just, and mighty Death! whom none could advise, thou hast
persuaded; what none hath dared, thou hast done; and whom all the world
hath flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised; thou
hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride,
cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it all over with these two
narrow words Hic jacet.”
3.
Francis Bacon (1561-1626), one
of the greatest of English thinkers, and one of our best prose-writers,
was born at York House,
in the Strand, London, in the year 1561. He was a grave and precocious
child; and Queen Elizabeth, who knew him and liked him, used to pat him
and call him her “young Lord Keeper”—his father being Lord Keeper
of the Seals in her reign. At the early age of twelve he was sent to
Trinity College, Cambridge, and remained there for three years. In 1582
he was called to the bar; in 1593 he was M.P. for Middlesex. But his
greatest rise in fortune did not take place till the reign of
James I.; when, in the year 1618, he had risen to be Lord High
Chancellor of England. The title which he took on this
occasion—for the Lord High Chancellor is chairman of the House of
Lords—was Baron Verulam; and a few years after he was
created Viscount St Albans. His eloquence was famous in
England; and Ben Jonson said of him: “The fear of every man that heard
him was lest he should make an end.” In the year 1621 he was accused of
taking bribes, and of giving unjust decisions as a judge. He had not
really been unconscientious, but he had been careless; was obliged to
plead guilty; and he was sentenced to pay a fine of £40,000, and to be
imprisoned in the Tower during the king’s pleasure. The fine was
remitted; Bacon was set free in two days; a pension was allowed
him; but he never afterwards held office of any kind. He died on
Easter-day of the year 1626, of a chill which he caught while
experimenting on the preservative properties of snow.
4.
His chief prose-works in English—for he wrote many in
Latin—are the Essays, and the Advancement of
Learning. His Essays make one of the wisest books ever
written; and a great number of English thinkers owe to them the best of
what they have had to say. They are written in a clear, forcible, pithy,
and picturesque style, with short sentences, and a good many
illustrations, drawn from history, politics, and science. It is true
that the style is sometimes stiff, and even rigid; but the stiffness is
the stiffness of a richly embroidered cloth, into which threads of gold
and silver have been worked. Bacon kept what he called a Promus
or Commonplace-Book; and in this he entered striking thoughts,
sentences, and phrases that he met with in the course of his reading, or
that occurred to him during the day. He calls these sentences
“salt-pits, that you may extract salt out of, and sprinkle as you will.”
The following are a few examples:—
“That that is Forced is not Forcible.”
“No Man loveth his Fetters though they be of Gold.”
“Clear and Round Dealing is the Honour of Man’s Nature.”
“The Arch-flatterer, with whom all the petty Flatterers have
intelligence, is a Man’s Self.”
“If Things be not tossed upon the Arguments of Counsell, they will be
tossed upon the Waves of Fortune.”
The following are a few striking sentences from his
Essays:—
“Virtue is like a rich stone, best plain set.”
“A man’s nature runs either to herbs or weeds; therefore, let him
seasonably water the one, and destroy the other.”
“A crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and
talk but a tinkling cymbal, when there is no love.”
No man could say wiser things in pithier words; and we may well say of
his thoughts, in the words of Tennyson, that they are—
“Jewels, five words long,
That on the stretched forefinger of all time
Sparkle for ever.”
5.
William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
has been already treated of in the chapter on the sixteenth century. But
it may be noted here that his first two periods—as they are
called—fall within the sixteenth, and his last two periods within
the seventeenth century. His first period lies between 1591 and 1596;
and to it are ascribed his early poems, his play of Richard II.,
and some other historical plays. His second period, which stretches from
1596 to 1601 holds the Sonnets, the Merchant of Venice, the
Merry Wives of Windsor, and a few historical dramas. But his
third and fourth periods were richer in production, and in greater
productions. The third period, which belongs to the years 1601 to 1608,
produced the play of Julius Cæsar, the great tragedies of
Hamlet, Othello, Lear, Macbeth, and some
others. To the fourth period, which lies between 1608 and 1613, belong
the calmer and wiser dramas,—Winter’s Tale, The
Tempest, and Henry VIII. Three years after—in
1616—he died.
6.
The Second Half.—The second half of the great and unique
seventeenth century was of a character very different indeed from that
of the first half. The Englishmen born into it had to face a new world!
New thoughts in religion, new forces in politics, new powers in social
matters had been slowly, steadily, and irresistibly rising into
supremacy ever since the Scottish King James came to take his seat upon
the throne of England in 1603. These new forces had, in fact, become so
strong that they led a king to the scaffold, and handed over the
government of England to a section of Republicans. Charles I. was
executed in 1649; and, though his son came back to the throne in 1660,
the face, the manners, the thoughts of England and of Englishmen had
undergone a complete internal and external change. The Puritan party was
everywhere the ruling party; and its views and convictions, in religion,
in politics, and in literature, held unquestioned sway in almost every
part of England. In the Puritan party, the strongest section was formed
by the Independents—the “root and branch men”—as they were
called; and the greatest man among the Independents was Oliver Cromwell,
in whose government John Milton was Foreign Secretary. Milton was
certainly by far the greatest and most powerful writer, both in prose
and in verse, on the side of the Puritan party. The ablest verse-writer
on the Royalist or Court side was Samuel Butler, the unrivalled
satirist—the Hogarth of language,—the author of
Hudibras. The greatest prose-writer on the Royalist and Church
side was Jeremy Taylor, Bishop of Down, in Ireland, and the
author of Holy Living, Holy Dying, and many other works
written with a wonderful eloquence. The greatest philosophical writer
was Thomas Hobbes, the author of the Leviathan. The most
powerful writer for the people was John Bunyan, the immortal
author of The Pilgrim’s Progress. When, however, we come to the
reigns of Charles II. and James II., and the new influences which their
rule and presence imparted, we find the greatest poet to be John
Dryden, and the most important prose-writer, John Locke.
7.
The Poetry of the Second Half.—The poetry of the second
half of the seventeenth century was not an outgrowth or lineal
descendant of the poetry of the first half. No trace of the strong
Elizabethan poetical emotion remained; no writer of this half-century
can claim kinship with the great authors of the Elizabethan period. The
three most remarkable poets in the latter half of this century are
John Milton, Samuel Butler, and John Dryden. But
Milton’s culture was derived chiefly from the great Greek and Latin
writers; and his poems show
few or no signs of belonging to any age or generation in particular of
English literature. Butler’s poem, the Hudibras, is the only one
of its kind; and if its author owes anything to other writers, it is to
France and not to England that we must look for its sources. Dryden,
again, shows no sign of being related to Shakespeare or the dramatic
writers of the early part of the century; he is separated from them by a
great gulf; he owes most, when he owes anything, to the French school of
poetry.
8.
John Milton (1608-1674), the
second greatest name in English poetry, and the greatest of all our epic
poets, was born in Bread Street, Cheapside, London, in the year
1608—five years after the accession of James I. to the
throne, and eight years before the death of Shakespeare. He was educated
at St Paul’s School, and then at Christ’s College, Cambridge. He
was so handsome—with a delicate complexion, clear blue eyes, and
light-brown hair flowing down his shoulders—that he was known as
the “Lady of Christ’s.” He was destined for the Church; but, being early
seized with a strong desire to compose a great poetical work which
should bring honour to his country and to the English tongue, he gave up
all idea of becoming a clergyman. Filled with his secret purpose, he
retired to Horton, in Buckinghamshire, where his father had bought a
small country seat. Between the years 1632 and 1638 he studied all the
best Greek and Latin authors, mathematics, and science; and he also
wrote L’Allegro and Il Penseroso, Comus,
Lycidas, and some shorter poems. These were preludes, or
exercises, towards the great poetical work which it was the mission of
his life to produce. In 1638-39 he took a journey to the Continent. Most
of his time was spent in Italy; and, when in Florence, he paid a visit
to Galileo in prison. It had been his intention to go on to Greece; but
the troubled state of politics at home brought him back sooner than he
wished. The next ten years of his life were engaged in teaching and in
writing his prose works. His ideas on teaching are to be found in his
Tractate on Education. The most eloquent of his prose-works is
his Areopagitica, a Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed
Printing (1644)—a plea for the freedom of the press, for
relieving all writings from the criticism of censors. In 1649—the
year of the execution of Charles I.—Milton was appointed
Latin or Foreign Secretary to the Government of Oliver Cromwell; and for
the next ten years his time was taken up with official work, and with
writing prose-volumes in defence of the action of the
Republic. In 1660 the Restoration took place; and Milton was at length
free, in his fifty-third year, to carry out his long-cherished scheme of
writing a great Epic poem. He chose the subject of the fall and the
restoration of man. Paradise Lost was completed in 1665; but,
owing to the Plague and the Fire of London, it was not published till
the year 1667. Milton’s young Quaker friend, Ellwood, said to him one
day: “Thou hast said much of Paradise Lost, what hast thou to say of
Paradise Found?” Paradise Regained was the
result—a work which was written in 1666, and appeared, along
with Samson Agonistes, in the year 1671. Milton died in the year
1674—about the middle of the reign of Charles II. He had been
three times married.
9.
L’Allegro (or “The Cheerful Man”) is a companion poem to Il
Penseroso (or “The Meditative Man”). The poems present two
contrasted views of the life of the student. They are written in an
irregular kind of octosyllabic verse. The Comus—mostly in
blank verse—is a lyrical drama; and Milton’s work was accompanied
by a musical composition by the then famous musician Henry Lawes.
Lycidas—a poem in irregular rhymed verse—is a
threnody on the death of Milton’s young friend, Edward King, who was
drowned in sailing from Chester to Dublin. This poem has been called
“the touchstone of taste;” the man who cannot admire it has no feeling
for true poetry. The Paradise Lost is the story of how Satan was
allowed to plot against the happiness of man; and how Adam and Eve fell
through his designs. The style is the noblest in the English language;
the music of the rhythm is lofty, involved, sustained, and sublime. “In
reading ‘Paradise Lost,’” says Mr Lowell, “one has a feeling of
spaciousness such as no other poet gives.” Paradise Regained is,
in fact, the story of the Temptation, and of Christ’s triumph over the
wiles of Satan. Wordsworth says: “‘Paradise Regained’ is most perfect in
execution of any written by Milton;” and Coleridge remarks that “it is
in its kind the most perfect poem extant, though its kind may be
inferior in interest.” Samson Agonistes (“Samson in Struggle”) is
a drama, in highly irregular unrhymed verse, in which the poet sets
forth his own unhappy fate—
“Eyeless, in Gaza, at the mill with slaves.”
It is, indeed, an autobiographical poem—it is the story of the
last years of the poet’s life.
10.
Samuel Butler (1612-1680), the
wittiest of English poets, was born at Strensham, in Worcestershire, in
the year 1612, four years
after the birth of Milton, and four years before the death of
Shakespeare. He was educated at the grammar-school of Worcester, and
afterwards at Cambridge—but only for a short time. At the
Restoration he was made secretary to the Earl of Carbery, who was then
President of the Principality of Wales, and steward of Ludlow Castle.
The first part of his long poem called Hudibras appeared in 1662;
the second part in 1663; the third in 1678. Two years after, Butler died
in the greatest poverty in London. He was buried in St Paul’s,
Covent Garden; but a monument was erected to him in Westminster Abbey.
Upon this fact Wesley wrote the following epigram:—
“While Butler, needy wretch, was yet alive,
No generous patron would a dinner give;
See him, when starved to death, and turned to dust,
Presented with a monumental bust.
The poet’s fate is here in emblem shown,—
He asked for bread, and he received a stone.”
11.
The Hudibras is a burlesque poem,—a long lampoon,
a laboured caricature,—in mockery of the weaker side of the
great Puritan party. It is an imaginary account of the adventures of a
Puritan knight and his squire in the Civil Wars. It is choke-full of all
kinds of learning, of the most pungent remarks—a very hoard
of sentences and saws, “of vigorous locutions and picturesque phrases,
of strong, sound sense, and robust English.” It has been more quoted
from than almost any book in our language. Charles II. was never tired
of reading it and quoting from it—
“He never ate, nor drank, nor slept,
But Hudibras still near him kept”—
says Butler himself.
The following are some of his best known lines:—
“And, like a lobster boil’d, the morn
From black to red began to turn.”
“For loyalty is still the same,
Whether it win or lose the game:
True as the dial to the sun,
Altho’ it be not shin’d upon.”
“He that complies against his will,
Is of his own opinion still.”
12.
John Dryden (1631-1700), the
greatest of our poets in the second rank, was born at Aldwincle, in
Northamptonshire, in the
year 1631. He was descended from Puritan ancestors on both sides of his
house. He was educated at Westminster School, and at Trinity College,
Cambridge. London became his settled abode in the year 1657. At the
Restoration, in 1660, he became an ardent Royalist; and, in the year
1663, he married the daughter of a Royalist nobleman, the Earl of
Berkshire. It was not a happy marriage; the lady, on the one hand, had a
violent temper, and, on the other, did not care a straw for the literary
pursuits of her husband. In 1666 he wrote his first long poem, the
Annus Mirabilis (“The Wonderful Year”), in which he paints the
war with Holland, and the Fire of London; and from this date his life is
“one long literary labour.” In 1670, he received the double appointment
of Historiographer-Royal and Poet-Laureate. Up to the year 1681, his
work lay chiefly in writing plays for the theatre; and these plays were
written in rhymed verse, in imitation of the French plays; for, from the
date of the Restoration, French influence was paramount both in
literature and in fashion. But in this year he published the first part
of Absalom and Achitophel—one of the most powerful satires
in the language. In the year 1683 he was appointed Collector of Customs
in the port of London—a post which Chaucer had held before
him. (It is worthy of note that Dryden “translated” the Tales of
Chaucer into modern English.) At the accession of James II., in
1685, Dryden became a Roman Catholic; most certainly neither for gain
nor out of gratitude, but from conviction. In 1687, appeared his poem of
The Hind and the Panther, in which he defends his new creed. He
had, a few years before, brought out another poem called Religio
Laici (“A Layman’s Faith”), which was a defence of the Church
of England and of her position in religion. In The Hind and the
Panther, the Hind represents the Roman Catholic Church,
“a milk-white hind, unspotted and unchanged,” the Panther the
Church of England; and the two beasts reply to each other in all the
arguments used by controversialists on these two sides. When the
Revolution of 1688 took place, and James II. had to flee the
kingdom, Dryden lost both his offices and the pension he had from the
Crown. Nothing daunted, he set to work once more. Again he wrote for the
stage; but the last years of his life were spent chiefly in translation.
He translated passages from Homer, Ovid, and from some Italian writers;
but his most important work was the translation of the whole of Virgil’s
Æneid. To the last he retained his fire and vigour, action and
rush of verse; and some of his greatest lyric poems belong to his later
years. His ode called Alexander’s Feast was written at the age of
sixty-six; and it was written at one sitting. At the age of sixty-nine
he was meditating a
translation of the whole of Homer—both the Iliad and the Odyssey.
He died at his house in London, on May-day of 1700, and was buried with
great pomp and splendour in Poets’ Corner in Westminster Abbey.
13.
His best satire is the Absalom and Achitophel; his best specimen
of reasoning in verse is The Hind and the Panther. His best ode
is his Ode to the Memory of Mrs Anne Killigrew. Dryden’s
style is distinguished by its power, sweep, vigour, and “long majestic
march.” No one has handled the heroic couplet—and it was this form
of verse that he chiefly used—with more vigour than Dryden; Pope
was more correct, more sparkling, more finished, but he had not Dryden’s
magnificent march or sweeping impulsiveness. “The fire and spirit of the
‘Annus Mirabilis,’” says his latest critic, “are nothing short of
amazing, when the difficulties which beset the author are remembered.
The glorious dash of the performance is his own.” His prose, though full
of faults, is also very vigorous. It has “something of the lightning
zigzag vigour and splendour of his verse.” He always writes clear,
homely, and pure English,—full of force and point.
Many of his most pithy lines are often quoted:—
“Men are but children of a larger growth.”
“Errors,
like straws, upon the surface flow;
He that would search for pearls must dive below.”
“The greatest argument for love is love.”
“The secret pleasure of the generous act,
Is the great mind’s great bribe.”
The great American critic and poet, Mr Lowell, compares him to “an
ostrich, to be classed with flying things, and capable, what with leap
and flap together, of leaving the earth for a longer or a shorter space,
but loving the open plain, where wing and foot help each other to
something that is both flight and run at once.”
14.
Jeremy Taylor (1613-1667), the
greatest master of ornate and musical English prose in his own day, was
born at Cambridge in the year 1613—just three years before
Shakespeare died. His father was a barber. After attending the free
grammar-school of Cambridge, he proceeded to the University. He took
holy orders and removed to London. When he was lecturing one day at
St Paul’s, Archbishop Laud was so taken by his “youthful beauty,
pleasant air,” fresh eloquence, and exuberant style, that he had him
created
a Fellow of All Souls’ College, Oxford. When the Civil War broke out, he
was taken prisoner by the Parliamentary forces; and, indeed, suffered
imprisonment more than once. After the Restoration, he was presented
with a bishopric in Ireland, where he died in 1667.
15.
Perhaps his best works are his Holy Living and Holy Dying.
His style is rich, even to luxury, full of the most imaginative
illustrations, and often overloaded with ornament. He has been called
“the Shakespeare of English prose,” “the Spenser of divinity,” and by
other appellations. The latter title is a very happy description; for he
has the same wealth of style, phrase, and description that Spenser has,
and the same boundless delight in setting forth his thoughts in a
thousand different ways. The following is a specimen of his writing. He
is speaking of a shipwreck:—
“These are the thoughts of mortals, this is the end and sum of all their
designs. A dark night and an ill guide, a boisterous sea and a
broken cable, a hard rock and a rough wind, dash in pieces the
fortune of a whole family; and they that shall weep loudest for the
accident are not yet entered into the storm, and yet have suffered
shipwreck.”
His writings contain many pithy statements. The following are a few of
them:—
“No man is poor that does not think himself so.”
“He that spends his time in sport and calls it recreation, is like him
whose garment is all made of fringe, and his meat nothing but sauce..”
“A good man is as much in awe of himself as of a whole assembly.”
16.
Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679), a
great philosopher, was born at Malmesbury in the year 1588. He is hence
called “the philosopher of Malmesbury.” He lived during the reigns of
four English sovereigns—Elizabeth, James I., Charles I.,
and Charles II.; and he was twenty-eight years of age when
Shakespeare died. He is in many respects the type of the hard-working,
long-lived, persistent Englishman. He was for many years tutor in the
Devonshire family—to the first Earl of Devonshire, and to the
third Earl of Devonshire—and lived for several years at the family
seat of Chatsworth. In his youth he was acquainted with Bacon and Ben
Jonson; in his middle age he knew Galileo in Italy; and as he lived to
the age of ninety-two, he might have conversed with John Locke or with
Daniel Defoe. His greatest work is the Leviathan; or, The
Matter, Form, and Power of a Commonwealth. His style is clear,
manly, and vigorous. He tried to write poetry too. At
the advanced age of eighty-five, he wrote a translation of the whole of
Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey into rhymed English verse, using the same
quatrain and the same measure that Dryden employed in his ‘Annus
Mirabilis.’ Two lines are still remembered of this translation: speaking
of a child and his mother, he says—
“And like a star upon her bosom lay
His beautiful and shining golden head.”
17.
John Bunyan (1628-1688), one of
the most popular of our prose-writers, was born at Elstow, in
Bedfordshire, in the year 1628—just three years before the birth
of Dryden. He served, when a young man, with the Parliamentary forces,
and was present at the siege of Leicester. At the Restoration, he was
apprehended for preaching, in disobedience to the Conventicle Act, “was
had home to prison, and there lay complete twelve years.” Here he
supported himself and his family by making tagged laces and other
small-wares; and here, too, he wrote the immortal Pilgrim’s
Progress. After his release, he became pastor of the Baptist
congregation at Bedford. He had a great power of bringing persons who
had quarrelled together again; and he was so popular among those who
knew him, that he was generally spoken of as “Bishop Bunyan.” On a
journey, undertaken to reconcile an estranged father and a rebellious
son, he caught a severe cold, and died of fever in London, in the year
1688. Every
one has read, or will read, the Pilgrim’s Progress; and it may be
said, without exaggeration, that to him who has not read the book,
a large part of English life and history is dumb and
unintelligible. Bunyan has been called the “Spenser of the people,” and
“the greatest master of allegory that ever lived.” His power of
imagination is something wonderful; and his simple, homely, and vigorous
style makes everything so real, that we seem to be reading a narrative
of everyday events and conversations. His vocabulary is not, as Macaulay
said, “the vocabulary of the common people;” rather should we say that
his English is the English of the Bible and of the best religious
writers. His style is, almost everywhere, simple, homely, earnest, and
vernacular—without being vulgar. Bunyan’s books have, along with
Shakespeare and Tyndale’s works, been among the chief supports of an
idiomatic, nervous, and simple English.
18.
John Locke (1632-1704), a great
English philosopher, was born at Wrington, near Bristol, in the year
1632. He was educated
at Oxford; but he took little interest in the Greek and Latin classics,
his chief studies lying in medicine and the physical sciences. He became
attached to the famous Lord Shaftesbury, under whom he filled several
public offices—among others, that of Commissioner of Trade. When
Shaftesbury was obliged to flee to Holland, Locke followed him, and
spent several years in exile in that country. All his life a very
delicate man, he yet, by dint of great care and thoughtfulness,
contrived to live to the age of seventy-two. His two most famous works
are Some Thoughts concerning Education, and the celebrated
Essay on the Human Understanding. The latter, which is his great
work, occupied his time and thoughts for eighteen years. In both these
books, Locke exhibits the very genius of common-sense. The purpose of
education is, in his opinion, not to make learned men, but to maintain
“a sound mind in a sound body;” and he begins the education of the
future man even from his cradle. In his philosophical writings, he is
always simple; but, as he is loose and vacillating in his use of terms,
this simplicity is often purchased at the expense of exactness and
self-consistency.
THE FIRST HALF OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
1.
The Age of Prose.—The eighteenth century was an age of
prose in two senses. In the first place, it was a prosaic age; and, in
the second place, better prose than poetry was produced by its writers.
One remarkable fact may also be noted about the chief prose-writers of
this century—and that is, that they were, most of them, not merely
able writers, not merely distinguished literary men, but also men of
affairs—men well versed in the world and in matters of the highest
practical moment, while some were also statesmen holding high office.
Thus, in the first half of the century, we find Addison, Swift, and
Defoe either holding office or influencing and guiding those who held
office; while, in the latter half, we have men like Burke, Hume, and
Gibbon, of whom the same, or nearly the same, can be said. The poets, on
the contrary, of this eighteenth century, are all of them—with the
very slightest exceptions—men who devoted most of their lives to
poetry, and had little or nothing to do with practical matters. It may
also be noted here that the character of the eighteenth century becomes
more and more prosaic as it goes on—less and less under the
influence of the spirit of poetry, until, about the close, a great
reaction makes itself felt in the persons of Cowper, Chatterton, and
Burns, of Crabbe and Wordsworth.
2.
The First Half.—The great prose-writers of the first half
of the eighteenth century are Addison and Steele,
Swift and
Defoe. All of these men had some more or less close connection
with the rise of journalism in England; and one of them, Defoe, was
indeed the founder of the modern newspaper. By far the most powerful
intellect of these four was Swift. The greatest poets of the first half
of the eighteenth century were Pope, Thomson,
Collins, and Gray. Pope towers above all of them by a head
and shoulders, because he was much more fertile than any, and because he
worked so hard and so untiringly at the labour of the file—at the
task of polishing and improving his verses. But the vein of poetry in
the three others—and more especially in Collins—was much
more pure and genuine than it was in Pope at any time of his
life—at any period of his writing. Let us look at each of these
writers a little more closely.
3.
Daniel Defoe (1661-1731), one of
the most fertile writers that England ever saw, and one who has been the
delight of many generations of readers, was born in the city of London
in the year 1661. He was educated to be a Dissenting minister; but he
turned from that profession to the pursuit of trade. He attempted
several trades,—was a hosier, a hatter, a printer; and
he is said also to have been a brick and tile maker. In 1692 he failed
in business; but, in no long time after, he paid every one of his
creditors to the uttermost farthing. Through all his labours and
misfortunes he was always a hard and careful reader,—an omnivorous
reader, too, for he was in the habit of reading almost every book that
came in his way. He made his first reputation by writing political
pamphlets. One of his pamphlets brought him into high favour with King
William; another had the effect of placing him in the pillory and
lodging him in prison. But while in Newgate, he did not idle away his
time or “languish”; he set to work, wrote hard, and started a newspaper,
The Review,—the earliest genuine newspaper England had seen
up to his time. This paper he brought out two or three times a-week; and
every word of it he wrote himself. He continued to carry it on
single-handed for eight years. In 1706, he was made a member of the
Commission for bringing about the union between England and Scotland;
and his great knowledge of commerce and commercial affairs were of
singular value to this Commission. In 1715 he had a dangerous illness,
brought on by political excitement; and, on his recovery, he gave up
most of his political
writing, and took to the composition of stories and romances. Although
now a man of fifty-four, he wrote with the vigour and ease of a young
man of thirty. His greatest imaginative work was written in
1719—when he was nearly sixty—The Life and Strange
Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, Mariner,... written
by Himself. Within six years he had produced twelve works of a
similar kind. He is said to have written in all two hundred and fifty
books in the course of his lifetime. He died in 1731.
4.
His best known—and it is also his greatest—work is
Robinson Crusoe; and this book, which every one has read, may be
compared with ‘Gulliver’s Travels,’ for the purpose of observing how
imaginative effects are produced by different means and in different
ways. Another vigorous work of imagination by Defoe is the Journal of
the Plague, which appeared in 1722. There are three chief things to
be noted regarding Defoe and his writings. These are: first, that Defoe
possessed an unparalleled knowledge—a knowledge wider than
even Shakespeare’s—of the circumstances and details of human life
among all sorts, ranks, and conditions of men; secondly, that he gains
his wonderful realistic effects by the freest and most copious use of
this detailed knowledge in his works of imagination; and thirdly, that
he possessed a vocabulary of the most wonderful wealth. His style is
strong, homely, and vigorous, but the sentences are long, loose, clumsy,
and sometimes ungrammatical. Like Sir Walter Scott, he was too eager to
produce large and broad effects to take time to balance his clauses or
to polish his sentences. Like Sir Walter Scott, again, he possesses in
the highest degree the art of particularising.
5.
Jonathan Swift (1667-1745), the
greatest prose-writer, in his own kind, of the eighteenth century, and
the opposite in most respects—especially in style—of
Addison, was born in Dublin in the year 1667. Though born in Ireland, he
was of purely English descent—his father belonging to a Yorkshire
family, and his mother being a Leicestershire lady. His father died
before he was born; and he was educated by the kindness of an uncle.
After being at a private school at Kilkenny, he was sent to Trinity
College, Dublin, where he was plucked for his degree at his first
examination, and, on a second trial, only obtained his B.A. “by special
favour.” He next came to England, and for eleven years acted as private
secretary to Sir William Temple, a retired statesman and
ambassador, who lived at Moor Park, near Richmond-on-Thames.
In 1692 he paid a visit to Oxford, and there obtained the degree of M.A.
In 1700 he went to Ireland with Lord Berkeley as his chaplain, and while
in that country was presented with several livings. He at first attached
himself to the Whig party, but stung by this party’s neglect of his
labours and merits, he joined the Tories, who raised him to the Deanery
of St Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin. But, though nominally resident
in Dublin, he spent a large part of his time in London. Here he knew and
met everybody who was worth knowing, and for some time he was the most
imposing figure, and wielded the greatest influence in all the best
social, political, and literary circles of the capital. In 1714, on the
death of Queen Anne, Swift’s hopes of further advancement died out; and
he returned to his Deanery, settled in Dublin, and “commenced Irishman
for life.” A man of strong passions, he usually spent his birthday
in reading that chapter of the Book of Job which contains the verse,
“Let the day perish in which I was born.” He died insane in 1745, and
left his fortune to found a lunatic asylum in Dublin. One day, when
taking a walk with a friend, he saw a blasted elm, and, pointing to it,
he said: “I shall be like that tree, and die first at the top.” For
the last three years of his life he never spoke one word.
6.
Swift has written verse; but it is his prose-works that give him his
high and unrivalled place in English literature. His most powerful work,
published in 1704, is the Tale of a Tub—a satire on
the disputes between the Roman Catholic, Anglican, and Presbyterian
Churches. His best known prose-work is the Gulliver’s Travels,
which appeared in 1726. This work is also a satire; but it is a satire
on men and women,—on humanity. “The power of Swift’s prose,” it
has been said by an able critic, “was the terror of his own, and remains
the wonder of after times.” His style is strong, simple,
straightforward; he uses the plainest words and the homeliest English,
and every blow tells. Swift’s style—as every genuine style
does—reflects the author’s character. He was an ardent lover and a
good hater. Sir Walter Scott describes him as “tall, strong, and well
made, dark in complexion, but with bright blue eyes (Pope said they were
“as azure as the heavens”), black and bushy eyebrows, aquiline nose, and
features which expressed the stern, haughty, and dauntless turn of his
mind.” He grew savage under the slightest contradiction; and dukes and
great lords were obliged to pay court to him. His prose was as trenchant
and powerful as were his manners: it has been compared to “cold steel.”
His own definition of a good style is “proper words in proper
places.”
7.
Joseph Addison (1672-1719), the
most elegant prose-writer—as Pope was the most polished
verse-writer—of the eighteenth century, was born at Milston, in
Wiltshire, in the year 1672. He was educated at Charterhouse School, in
London, where one of his friends and companions was the celebrated Dick
Steele—afterwards Sir Richard Steele. He then went to Oxford,
where he made a name for himself by his beautiful compositions in Latin
verse. In 1695 he addressed a poem to King William; and this poem
brought him into notice with the Government of the day. Not long after,
he received a pension of £300 a-year, to enable him to travel; and he
spent some time in France and Italy. The chief result of this tour was a
poem entitled A Letter from Italy to Lord Halifax. In 1704, when
Lord Godolphin was in search of a poet who should celebrate in an
adequate style the striking victory of Blenheim, Addison was introduced
to him by Lord Halifax. His poem called The Campaign was the
result; and one simile in it took and held the attention of all English
readers, and of “the town.” A violent storm had passed over
England; and Addison compared the calm genius of Marlborough, who was as
cool and serene amid shot and shell as in a drawing-room or at the
dinner-table, to the Angel of the Storm. The lines are these:—
“So when an Angel by divine command
With rising tempests shakes a guilty land,
Such as of late o’er pale Britannia passed,
Calm and serene he drives the furious blast;
And, pleased the Almighty’s orders to perform,
Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.”
For this poem Addison was rewarded with the post of Commissioner of
Appeals. He rose, successively, to be Under Secretary of State;
Secretary for Ireland; and, finally, Secretary of State for
England—an office which would correspond to that of our present
Home Secretary. He married the Countess of Warwick, to whose son he had
been tutor; but it was not a happy marriage. Pope says of him in regard
to it, that—
“He married discord in a noble wife.”
He died at Holland House, Kensington, London, in the year 1719, at the
age of forty-seven.
8.
But it is not at all as a poet, but as a prose-writer, that Addison is
famous in the history of literature. While he was in Ireland, his friend
Steele started The Tatler, in 1709; and Addison sent numerous
contributions to this little paper. In 1711, Steele began a still more
famous paper, which he called The Spectator; and
Addison’s writings in this morning journal made its reputation. His
contributions are distinguishable by being signed with some one of the
letters of the name Clio—the Muse of History. A third
paper, The Guardian, appeared a few years after; and Addison’s
contributions to it are designated by a hand (-->) at the foot
of each. In addition to his numerous prose-writings, Addison brought out
the tragedy of Cato in 1713. It was very successful; but it is
now neither read nor acted. Some of his hymns, however, are beautiful,
and are well known. Such are the hymn beginning, “The spacious firmament
on high;” and his version of the 23d Psalm, “The Lord my pasture shall
prepare.”
9.
Addison’s prose style is inimitable, easy, graceful, full of
humour—full of good humour, delicate, with a sweet and kindly
rhythm, and always musical to the ear. He is the most graceful of social
satirists; and his genial creation of the character of Sir Roger de
Coverley will live for ever. While his work in verse is never more
than second-rate, his writings in prose are always first-rate.
Dr Johnson said of his prose: “Whoever wishes to attain an English
style—familiar but not coarse, and elegant but not
ostentatious,—must give his days and nights to the study of
Addison.” Lord Lytton also remarks: “His style has that nameless
urbanity in which we recognise the perfection of manner; courteous, but
not courtier-like; so dignified, yet so kindly; so easy, yet high-bred.
It is the most perfect form of English.” His style, however, must be
acknowledged to want force—to be easy rather than vigorous; and it
has not the splendid march of Jeremy Taylor, or the noble power of
Savage Landor.
10.
Richard Steele (1671-1729),
commonly called “Dick Steele,” the friend and colleague of Addison, was
born in Dublin, but of English parents, in the year 1671. The two
friends were educated at Charterhouse and at Oxford together; and they
remained friends, with some slight breaks and breezes, to the close of
life. Steele was a writer of plays, essays, and pamphlets—for one
of which he was expelled from the House of Commons; but his chief fame
was earned in connection with the Society Journals, which he founded. He
started many—such as Town-Talk, The Tea-Table,
Chit-Chat; but only the Tatler and the Spectator
rose to success and to fame. The strongest quality in his writing is his
pathos: the source of tears is always at his command; and, although
himself of a gay and even rollicking temperament, he seems to have
preferred this vein. The literary skill of Addison—his happy art
in
the choosing of words—did not fall to the lot of Steele; but he is
more hearty and more human in his description of character. He died in
1729, ten years after the departure of his friend Addison.
11.
Alexander Pope (1688-1744), the
greatest poet of the eighteenth century, was born in Lombard Street,
London, in the year of the Revolution, 1688. His father was a wholesale
linendraper, who, having amassed a fortune, retired to Binfield, on the
borders of Windsor Forest. In the heart of this beautiful country young
Pope’s youth was spent. On the death of his father, Pope left Windsor
and took up his residence at Twickenham, on the banks of the Thames,
where he remained till his death in 1744. His parents being Roman
Catholics, it was impossible for young Pope to go either to a public
school or to one of the universities; and hence he was educated
privately. At the early age of eight, he met with a translation of Homer
in verse; and this volume became his companion night and day. At the age
of ten, he turned some of the events described in Homer into a play. The
poems of Spenser, the poets’ poet, were his next favourites; but the
writer who made the deepest and most lasting impression upon his mind
was Dryden. Little Pope began to write verse very early. He says of
himself—