XXI. A. D. 1752 CHAP. mind; but their influence was but transient they passed away, and Philosophy resumed her seat,— to 1754. taught him again to enjoy the present, and to look with indifference upon the past. An enemy has declared, that all his philosophy was but feigned : that he himself was miserable in the retirement which he made delightful to all who were permitted to share it. The assertion is specious, but unjust. In a mind so constitutionally restless and ambitious, we wonder rather that the strongest self-discipline could have gained for philosophy any influence at all, than that resentment and regret should sometimes swell within him, and occasionally burst the fetters by which they had been confined. We have already alluded to the air of resignation which characterises his familiar correspondence: could these letters have been written by a man who was habitually harassed by the bitterness of disappointed ambition? The mask might perhaps have been preserved in his formal appearances in public; but would it have been retained in the unsuspecting interchange of private friendships? The philosophy of Bolingbroke was not feigned; in his character, as in that of all other men, there were inconsistencies, but he habitually practised what he taught. The dictates of philosophy were the rule of his life--his occasional deviations from them the exception. His speculative philosophy we have already considered; but in practice he frequently felt the dreariness of his creed, and, in his letters to his friends, XXI. regrets that his reason should deprive him of the CHAP. pleasure of believing that there is a future state, A.D. 1752 where their intercourse would be uninterrupted, and their happiness unalloyed. His thoughts upon this subject seem to have taken the same course with those of the poet who imitated him in his infidelity and surpassed him in the order of his genius. He also would have exclaimed "How sweet it were in concert to adore, With those who made our mortal labours light; To hear each voice we feared to hear no more, Behold each mighty shade reveal'd to sight, The Bactrian Samian Sage, and all who taught the right!" But his distorted reason checked the aspiration, and he returned in thought to mere material mortality.* "Lord Bolingbroke," says Pope, "is above trifling. When he writes of anything in this world, he is more than mortal. If ever he trifles, it must be when he turns divine." But we must not forget the constant and effective patronage which Bolingbroke afforded to the literature of his country. What he excelled in himself, he admired in others. This feature of their administra *"Is it that they who are to live together in another state (for vera amicitia non nisi inter bonos) begin to feel more strongly that divine sympathy which is to be the great band of their future society? There is no one thought that soothes my mind like this. I encourage my imagination to pursue it, to 1754. XXI. to 1754. CHAP. tion, so honourable to both, is the only object in which Oxford and Bolingbroke were cordially agreed. A. D. 1752 There are few literary characters of the day, whose names have descended to us, who have not confessed and celebrated the liberality and taste of these statesmen. St. John, with a kindness which savoured more of generosity than prudence, would sometimes cherish those talents which were most constantly employed against him; and Swift seldom found it difficult to secure his influence in behalf of a distressed writer, even though he were a Whig. Even Steele experienced proofs of his consideration, which he was but little careful to repay. His urbanity is the frequent theme of the poets of his own party; and although some of those whom he most aided are now but little known, this fact rather attests the extent of his bounty than impugns the correctness of his taste. Pope wanted not his assistance; Dryden, Prior, Gay,* and Thomson, needed and obtained it. In Some * Gay inscribed his Pastorals pleasing specimens of the poet's style. Lo! I who erst beneath a tree, Sung Bumkinet and Bouzybee, In apron blue or apron white, For my good Lord of Bolingbroke. In describing the people he saw at court, he says There saw I St. John, sweet of mien, Full steadfast both to Church and Queen, XXI. A. D. 1752 to 1754. the days of Dryden his means were small; but his CHAP. exertions in behalf of Prior show what he would have done for one so far his superior, had his opportunities been equal to his friendship. Gay and Thomson were unknown to him, until his sun had set; their obligations to him are therefore less notorious, although perhaps no less real. These were men who could well reward the patronage they received. There are others whose more feeble voices scarcely reach us; but in these whispers we can always distinguish the name of St. John. Fenton, a poet less remembered for his poetry than for Lord Orrery's remark that he died of an easy chair and two bottles With whose fair name I'll deck my strain- And certes mirth it were to see Lo! here thou hast mine eclogues fair; But let not these detain thine ear; Let not the affairs of state and kings Wait while our Bouzybeus sings. Rather than verse of simple swain Should stay the trade of France or Spain, I'd burn book, preface, notes, and all. CHAP. of port a day, has ranked it among the most impossible of attempts XXI. A.D. 1752 to 1754. To make harmonious St. John more polite. Dr. King addressed him a poetical welcome upon his Thus from the noisy crowd exempt, with ease Of St. John, English Memmius, I presumed Of war, with mean attempt; while he, intent To string his charming shell. But when return'd, The same poet, who seems to have always resided with St. John when absent from Oxford, has addressed to him a very elegant Latin ode, in return for a present which seems to have had great charms for the muse of Phillips. Dr. Johnson tells us it consisted of wine and tobacco. |