"When BUTLER wrote his Hudibras, _one Coll. Rolle_, a Devonshire man, lodged with him, and was exactly like his description of the Knight; whence it is highly probable, that it was this gentleman, and not Sir Samuel Luke, whose person he had in his eye. The reason that he gave for calling his poem _Hudibras_ was, because the name of the old tutelar saint of Devonshire was _Hugh de Bras_." I find this in the Grubstreet Journal, January, 1731, a periodical paper conducted by two eminent literary physicians, under the appropriate names of Bavius and Maevius,[312] and which for some time enlivened the town with the excellent design of ridiculing silly authors and stupid critics.

It is unquestionably proved, by the confession of several friends of Butler, that the prototype of Sir Hudibras was a Devonshire man; and if Sir _Hugh de Bras_ be the old patron saint of Devonshire, (which however I cannot find in Prince's or in Fuller's Worthies,)[313] this discovers the suggestion which led Butler to the _name_ of his hero; burlesquing the _new saint_ by pairing him with the chivalrous saint of the county; hence, like the Knight of old, did

Sir _Knight_ abandon dwelling, And out he rode a _Colonelling!_

This origin of the name is more appropriate to the character of the work than deriving it from the Sir Hudibras of Spenser, with whom there exists no similitude.

It is as honourable as it is extraordinary, that such was the celebrity of Hudibras, that the workman's name was often confounded with the work itself; the poet was once better known under the name of HUDIBRAS than of BUTLER. Old Southern calls him "Hudibras Butler;" and if any one would read the most copious life we have of this great poet in the great General Dictionary, he must look for a name he is not accustomed to find among English authors --that of _Hudibras_! One fact is remarkable: that, like Cervantes, and unlike Rabelais and Sterne, Butler in his great work has not sent down to posterity a single pa.s.sage of indecent ribaldry, though it was written amidst a court which would have got such by heart, and in an age in which such trash was certain of popularity.

We know little more of Butler than we do of Shakspeare and of Spenser!

Longueville, the devoted friend of our poet, has unfortunately left no reminiscences of the departed genius whom he so intimately knew, and who bequeathed to Longueville the only legacy a neglected poet could leave--all his ma.n.u.scripts; and to his care, though not to his spirit, we are indebted for Butler's "Remains." His friend attempted to bury him with the public honours he deserved, among the tombs of his brother-bards in Westminster Abbey; but he was compelled to consign the bard to an obscure burial-place in Paul's, Covent Garden.[314] Many years after, when Alderman Barber raised an inscription to the memory of Butler in Westminster Abbey, others were desirous of placing one over the poet's humble gravestone. This probably excited some compet.i.tion: and the following fine one, attributed to Dennis, has perhaps never been published. If it be Dennis's, it must have been composed in one of his most lucid moments.

Near this place lies interred The body of Mr. Samuel Butler, Author of Hudibras.

He was a whole species of Poets in one!

Admirable in a Manner In which no one else has been tolerable; A Manner which began and ended in Him; In which he knew no Guide, And has found no Followers.[315]

To this too brief article I add a proof that that fanaticism which is branded by our immortal Butler can survive the castigation. Folly is sometimes immortal, as nonsense is sometimes irrefutable. Ancient follies revive, and men repeat the same unintelligible jargon: just as contagion keeps up the plague in Turkey by lying hid in some obscure corner, till it breaks out afresh. Recently we have seen a notable instance where one of the school to which we are alluding declares of Shakspeare that "it would have been happy if he had never been born, for that thousands will look back with incessant anguish on the guilty delight which the plays of Shakspeare ministered to them."[316] Such is the anathema of Shakspeare! We have another of Butler, in "An Historic Defence of Experimental Religion;" in which the author contends, that the best men have experienced the agency of the Holy Spirit in an immediate illumination from heaven. He furnishes his historic proofs by a list from Abel to Lady Huntingdon! The author of Hudibras is denounced, "_One_ Samuel Butler, a celebrated _buffoon_ in the abandoned reign of Charles the Second, wrote a mock-heroic poem, in which he undertook to burlesque the pious puritan. He ridicules all the gracious promises by comparing the _divine illumination_ to an _ignis fatuus_, and dark lantern of the spirit."[317] Such are the writers whose ascetic spirit is still descending among us from the monkery of the deserts, adding poignancy to the very ridicule they would annihilate. The satire which we deemed obsolete, we find still applicable to contemporaries!

The FIRST part of Hudibras is the most perfect; that was the rich fruit of matured meditation, of wit, of learning, and of leisure. A mind of the most original powers had been perpetually acted on by some of the most extraordinary events and persons of political and religious history. Butler had lived amidst scenes which might have excited indignation and grief; but his strong contempt of the actors could only supply ludicrous images and caustic raillery. Yet once, when villany was at its zenith, his solemn tones were raised to reach it.[318]

The SECOND part was precipitated in the following year. An interval of fourteen years was allowed to elapse before the THIRD and last part was given to the world; but then everything had changed! the poet, the subject, and the patron! The old theme of the sectarists had lost its freshness, and the cavaliers, with their royal libertine, had become as obnoxious to public decency as the Tartuffes. Butler appears to have turned aside, and to have given an adverse direction to his satirical arrows. The slavery and dotage of Hudibras to the widow revealed the voluptuous epicurean, who slept on his throne, dissolved in the arms of his mistresses. "The enchanted bower," and "The amorous suit," of Hudibras reflected the new manners of this wretched court; and that Butler had become the satirist of the party whose cause he had formerly so honestly espoused, is confirmed by his "Remains," where, among other nervous satires, is one, "On the licentious age of Charles the Second, contrasted with the puritanical one that preceded it." This then is the greater glory of Butler, that his high and indignant spirit equally satirised the hypocrites of Cromwell and the libertines of Charles.

SHENSTONE'S SCHOOL-MISTRESS.

The inimitable "School-Mistress" of Shenstone is one of the felicities of genius; but the purpose of this poem has been entirely misconceived.

Johnson, acknowledging this charming effusion to be "the most pleasing of Shenstone's productions" observes, "I know not what claim it has to stand among the _moral works_." The truth is, that it was intended for quite a different cla.s.s by the author, and Dodsley, the editor of his works, must have strangely blundered in designating it "a moral poem."

It may be cla.s.sed with a species of poetry, till recently, rare in our language, and which we sometimes find among the Italians, in their _rime piacevoli_, or _poesie burlesche_, which do not always consist of low humour in a facetious style with jingling rhymes, to which form we attach our idea of a burlesque poem. There is a refined species of ludicrous poetry, which is comic yet tender, lusory yet elegant, and with such a blending of the serious and the facetious, that the result of such a poem may often, among its other pleasures, produce a sort of ambiguity; so that we do not always know whether the writer is laughing at his subject, or whether he is to be laughed at. Our admirable Whistlecraft met this fate![319] "The School-Mistress" of Shenstone has been admired for its simplicity and tenderness, not for its exquisitely ludicrous turn!

This discovery I owe to the good fortune of possessing the edition of "The School-Mistress," which the author printed under his own directions, and to his own fancy.[320] To this piece of LUDICROUS POETRY, as he calls it, "lest it should be mistaken," he added a LUDICROUS INDEX, "purely to show fools that I am in jest." But "the fool," his subsequent editor, who, I regret to say, was Robert Dodsley, thought proper to suppress this amusing "ludicrous index," and the consequence is, as the poet foresaw, that his aim has been "mistaken."

The whole history of this poem, and this edition, may be traced in the printed correspondence of Shenstone. Our poet had pleased himself by ornamenting "A sixpenny pamphlet," with certain "seemly" designs of his, and for which he came to town to direct the engraver; he appears also to have intended accompanying it with "The deformed portrait of my old school-dame, Sarah Lloyd." The frontispiece to this first edition represents the "Thatched-house" of his old schoolmistress, and before it is the "birch-tree," with "the sun setting and gilding the scene." He writes on this, "I have the first sheet to correct upon the table. I have laid aside the thoughts of fame a good deal in this unpromising scheme; and fix them upon the landskip which is engraving, the red letter which I propose, and the fruit-piece which you see, being the most seemly ornaments of the first sixpenny pamphlet that was ever so highly honoured. I shall incur the same reflection with Ogilby, of having nothing good but my decorations. I expect that in your neighbourhood and in Warwickshire there should be twenty of my poems sold. I print it myself. I am pleased with Mynde's engravings."

On the publication Shenstone has opened his idea on its poetical characteristic. "I dare say it must be very incorrect; for I have added eight or ten stanzas within this fortnight. But inaccuracy is more excusable in _ludicrous poetry_ than in any other. If it strikes _any_, it must be merely people of _taste_; for people of _wit_ without taste, which comprehends the larger part of the critical tribe, will unavoidably despise it. I have been at some pains to recover myself from A. Phi**** misfortune of mere _childishness_, 'Little charm of placid mien,' &c. I have added a _ludicrous index_ purely to show (fools) that I am in jest; and my motto, 'O, qua sol habitabiles ill.u.s.trat oras, maxima principum!' is calculated for the same purpose. You cannot conceive how large the number is of those that mistake burlesque for the very foolishness it exposes; which observation I made once at the _Rehearsal_, at _Tom Thumb_, at _Chrononhotonthologos_, all which, are pieces of elegant humour. I have some mind to pursue this caution further, and advertise it 'The School-Mistress,' &c. a very _childish_ performance everybody knows (_novorum more_). But if a person seriously calls this, or rather burlesque, a childish or low species of poetry, he says wrong. For the most regular and formal poetry may be called trifling, folly, and weakness, in comparison of what is written with a more _manly_ spirit in ridicule of it.'

This edition is now lying before me, with its splendid "red-letter," its "seemly designs," and, what is more precious, its "Index." Shenstone, who had greatly pleased himself with his graphical inventions, at length found that his engraver, Mynde, had sadly bungled with the poet's ideal.

Vexed and disappointed, he writes, "I have been plagued to death about the ill-execution of my designs. Nothing is certain in London but expense, which I can ill bear." The truth is, that what is placed in the landskip over the thatched-house, and the birch-tree, is like a falling monster rather than a setting sun; but the fruit-piece at the end, the grapes, the plums, the melon, and the Catharine pears, Mr. Mynde has made sufficiently tempting. This edition contains only twenty-eight stanzas, which were afterwards enlarged to thirty-five. Several stanzas have been omitted, and they have also pa.s.sed through many corrections, and some improvements, which show that Shenstone had more judgment and felicity in severe correction than perhaps is suspected. Some of these I will point out.[321]

In the second stanza, the _first_ edition has,

In every mart that stands on Britain's isle, In every village less reveal'd to fame, Dwells there in cottage known about a mile, A matron old, whom we schoolmistress name.

Improved thus:--

In every village mark'd with little spire, Embower'd in trees, and hardly known to fame, There dwells in lowly shed and mean attire, A matron old, whom we schoolmistress name.

The eighth stanza, in the _first_ edition, runs,

The gown, which o'er her shoulders thrown she had, Was russet stuff (who knows not russet stuff?) Great comfort to her mind that she was clad In texture of her own, all strong and tough; Ne did she e'er complain, ne deem it rough, &c.

More elegantly descriptive is the dress as now delineated:--

A russet stole was o'er her shoulders thrown, A russet kirtle fenced the nipping air; 'Twas simple russet, but it was her own: 'Twas her own country bred the flock so fair, 'Twas her own labour did the fleece prepare, &c.

The additions made to the first edition consist of the 11, 12, 13, 14, and 15th stanzas, in which are so beautifully introduced the herbs and garden stores, and the psalmody of the schoolmistress; the 29th and 30th stanzas were also subsequent insertions. But those lines which give so original a view of genius in its infancy,

A little bench of heedless bishops here, And there a chancellor in embryo, &c.

were printed in 1742; and I cannot but think that the far-famed stanza in Gray's Elegy, where he discovers men of genius in peasants, as Shenstone has in children, was suggested by this original conception:

Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood,

is, to me, a congenial thought, with an echoed turn of expression of the lines from the School-Mistress.

I shall now restore the ludicrous INDEX, and adapt it to the stanzas of the later edition.

Stanza Introduction 1 The subject proposed 2 A circ.u.mstance in the situation of the MANSION OF EARLY DISCIPLINE, discovering the surprising influence of the connexions of ideas 3 A simile; introducing a deprecation of the joyless effects of BIGOTRY and SUPERSt.i.tION 4 Some peculiarities indicative of a COUNTRY SCHOOL, with a short sketch of the SOVEREIGN presiding over it 5 Some account of her NIGHTCAP, Ap.r.o.n, and a tremendous description of her BIRCHEN SCEPTER 6 A parallel instance of the advantages of LEGAL GOVERNMENT with regard to children and the wind 7 Her gown 8 Her t.i.tLES, and punctilious nicety in the ceremonious a.s.sertion of them A digression concerning her HEN'S presumptuous behaviour, with a circ.u.mstance tending to give the cautious reader a more accurate idea of the officious diligence and economy of an old woman. 10 A view of this RURAL POTENTATE as seated in her chair of state, conferring HONOURS, distributing BOUNTIES, and dispersing PROCLAMATIONS 16 Her POLICIES 17 The ACTION of the poem commences with a general summons, follows a particular description of the artful structure, decoration, and fortifications of an HORN-BIBLE 18 A surprising picture of sisterly affection by way of episode 20, 21 A short list of the methods now in use to avoid a whipping--which nevertheless follows 22 The force of example 23 A sketch of the particular symptoms of obstinacy as they discover themselves in a child, with a simile ill.u.s.trating a blubbered face 24, 25, 26 A hint of great importance 27 The piety of the poet in relation to that school-dame's memory, who had the first formation of a CERTAIN patriot.

[This stanza has been left out in the later editions; it refers to the Duke of Argyle.]

The secret connexion between WHIPPING and RISING IN THE WORLD, with a view, as it were, through a perspective, of the same LITTLE FOLK in the highest posts and reputation 28 An account of the nature of an EMBRYO-FOX-HUNTER.-- [Another stanza omitted.]

A deviation to an huckster's shop 32 Which being continued for the s.p.a.ce of three stanzas, gives the author an opportunity of paying his compliments to a particular county, which he gladly seizes; concluding his piece with respectful mention of the ancient and loyal city of SHREWSBURY.

BEN JONSON ON TRANSLATION.

I have discovered a poem by this great poet, which has escaped the researches of all his editors. Prefixed to a translation, translation is the theme; with us an unvalued art, because our translators have usually been the jobbers of booksellers; but no inglorious one among our French and Italian rivals. In this poem, if the reader's ear be guided by the compressed sense of the ma.s.sive lines, he may feel a rhythm which, should they be read like our modern metre, he will find wanting; here the fulness of the thoughts forms their own cadences. The mind is musical as well as the ear. One verse running into another, and the sense often closing in the middle of a line, is the Club of Hercules; Dryden sometimes succeeded in it, Churchill abused it, and Cowper attempted to revive it. Great force of thought only can wield this verse.

_On the_ AUTHOR, WORKE, _and_ TRANSLATOR, _prefixed to the translation of Mateo Alemans's Spanish Rogue_, 1623.

Who tracks this author's or translator's pen Shall finde, that either hath read bookes, and men: To say but one were single. Then it chimes, When the old words doe strike on the new times, As in this Spanish Proteus; who, though writ But in one tongue, was formed with the world's wit: And hath the n.o.blest marke of a good booke, That an ill man dares not securely looke Upon it, but will loath, or let it pa.s.se, As a deformed face doth a true gla.s.se.

Such bookes deserve translators of like coate As was the genius wherewith they were wrote; And this hath met that one, that may be stil'd More than the foster-father of this child; For though Spaine gave him his first ayre and vogue He would be call'd, henceforth, _the English rogue_, But that hee's too well suted, in a cloth Finer than was his Spanish, if my oath Will be receiv'd in court; if not, would I Had cloath'd him so! Here's all I can supply To your desert who have done it, friend! And this Faire aemulation, and no envy is; When you behold me wish myselfe, the man That would have done, that, which you only can!

BEN JONSON.

The translator of _Guzman_ was James Mabbe, which he disguised under the Spanish pseudonym of _Diego Puede-ser_; _Diego_ for _James_, and _Puede-ser_ for _Mabbe_ or _May-be_! He translated, with the same spirit as his Guzman, _Celestina, or the Spanish Bawd_, that singular tragi-comedy,--a version still more remarkable. He had resided a considerable time in Spain, and was a perfect master of both languages,--a rare talent in a translator; and the consequence is, that he is a translator of genius.

THE LOVES OF "THE LADY ARABELLA."[322]

Where London's towre its turrets show So stately by the Thames's side, Faire Arabella, child of woe!

For many a day had sat and sighed.

And as shee heard the waves arise, And as shee heard the bleake windes roare, As fast did heave her heartfelte sighes, And still so fast her teares did poure!