A woman, loveliest of the lovely kind,In body perfect, and compleat in mind.'
Such was this amiable lady, yet, with all these advantages, she could never prevail on Dr. Swift to acknowledge her openly as his wife. A great genius must tread in unbeaten paths, and deviate from the common road of life; otherwise a diamond of so much lustre might have been publickly produced, although it had been fixed within the collet of matrimony: But that which diminished the value of this inestimable jewel in Swift's eye was the servile state of her father.
Ambition and pride, the predominant principles which directed all the actions of Swift, conquered reason and justice; and the vanity of boasting such a wife was suppressed by the greater vanity of keeping free from a low alliance. Dr. Swift and Mrs. Johnson continued the same oeconomy of life after marriage, which they had pursued before it. They lived in separate houses; nothing appeared in their behaviour inconsistent in their decorum, and beyond the limits of platonic love. However unaccountable this renunciation of marriage rites might appear to the world, it certainly arose, not from any consciousness of a too near consanguinity between him and Mrs. Johnson, although the general voice of some was willing to make them both the natural children of Sir William Temple. Dr. Swift, (says lord Orrery) was not of that opinion, for the same false pride which induced him to deny the legitimate daughter of an obscure servant, might have prompted him to own the natural daughter of Sir William Temple.[2]
It is natural to imagine, that a woman of Stella's delicacy must repine at such an extraordinary situation. The outward honours she received are as frequently bestowed upon a mistress as a wife; she was absolutely virtuous, and was yet obliged to submit to all the appearances of vice. Inward anxiety affected by degrees the calmness of her mind, and the strength of her body. She died towards the end of January 1727, absolutely destroy'd by the peculiarity of her fate; a fate which perhaps she could not have incurred by an alliance with any other person in the world.
Upon the death of Sir William Temple, Swift came to London, and took the earliest opportunity of delivering a petition to King William, under the claim of a promise made by his majesty to Sir William Temple, that Mr. Swift should have the first vacancy which might happen among the prebends of Westminster or Canterbury. But this promise was either totally forgotten, or the petition which Mr. Swift presented was drowned amidst the clamour of more urgent addresses. From this first disappointment may be dated that bitterness towards kings and courtiers, which is to be found so universally dispersed throughout his works.
After a long and fruitless attendance at Whitehall, Swift reluctantly gave up all thoughts of a settlement in England: Pride prevented him from remaining longer in a state of servility and contempt. He complied therefore with an invitation from the earl of Berkley (appointed one of the Lords Justices in Ireland) to attend him as his chaplain, and private secretary.—Lord Berkley landed near Waterford, and Mr. Swift acted as secretary during the whole journey to Dublin. But another of lord Berkley's attendants, whose name was Bush, had by this time insinuated himself into the earl's favour, and had whispered to his lordship, that the post of secretary was not proper for a clergyman, to whom only church preferments could be suitable or advantageous. Lord Berkley listened perhaps too attentively to these insinuations, and making some slight apology to Mr. Swift, divested him of that office, and bestowed it upon Mr. Bush.
Here again was another disappointment, and a fresh object of indignation. The treatment was thought injurious, and Swift expressed his sensibility of it in a short but satyrical copy of verses, intitled the Discovery. However, during the government of the Earls of Berkley and Galway, who were jointly Lords Justices of Ireland, two livings, Laracor and Rathbeggan, were given to Mr. Swift. The first of these rectories was worth about 200, and the latter about 60 l. a year; and they were the only church preferments which he enjoyed till he was appointed Dean of St. Patrick's, in the year 1713.
Lord Orrery gives the following instances of his humour and of his pride.
As soon as he had taken possession of his two livings, he went to reside at Laracor, and gave public notice to his parishioners, that he would read prayers on every Wednesday and Friday. Upon the subsequent Wednesday the bell was rung, and the rector attended in his desk, when after having sat some time, and finding the congregation to consist only of himself and his clerk Roger, he began with great composure and gravity; but with a turn peculiar to himself. "Dearly belovedRoger,the scripture moveth you and me in sundry places, &c." And then proceeded regularly thro' the whole service. This trifling circumstance serves to shew; that he could not resist a vein of humour, whenever he had an opportunity of exerting it.
The following is the instance of his pride. While Swift was chaplain to lord Berkley, his only sister, by the consent and approbation of her uncle and relations, was married to a man in trade, whose fortune, character, and situation were esteemed by all her friends, and suitable to her in every respect.
But the marriage was intirely disagreeable to her brother. It seemed to interrupt those ambitious views he had long since formed: He grew outragious at the thoughts of being brother-in law to a trademan. He utterly refused all reconciliation with his father; nor would he even listen to the entreaties of his mother, who came over to Ireland under the strongest hopes of pacifying his anger; having in every other instance found him a dutiful and obedient son: But his pride was not to be conquered, and Mrs. Swift finding her son inflexible, hastened back to Leicester, where she continued till her death.
During his mother's life time, he scarce ever failed to pay her an annual visit. But his manner of travelling was as singular as any other of his actions. He often went in a waggon, but more frequently walked from Holyhead to Leicester, London, or any other part of England. He generally chose to dine with waggoners, ostlers, and persons of that rank; and he used to lye at night in houses where he found written over the door, Lodgings for a Penny. He delighted in scenes of low life. The vulgar dialect was not only a fund of humour for him; but seems to have been acceptable to his nature, as appears from the many filthy ideas, and indecent expressions found throughout his works.
A strict residence in a country place was not in the least suitable to the restless temper of Swift. He was perpetually making excursions not only to Dublin, and other places in Ireland, but likewise to London; so rambling a disposition occasioned to him a considerable loss. The rich deanery of Derry became vacant at this time, and was intended for him by lord Berkley, if Dr. King, then bishop of Derry, and afterwards archbishop of Dublin, had not interposed; entreating with great earnestness, that the deanery might be given to some grave and elderly divine, rather than to so young a man 'because (added the bishop) the situation of Derry is in the midst of Presbyterians, and I should be glad of a clergyman, who might be of assistance to me. I have no objection to Mr. Swift. I know him to be a sprightly ingenious young man; but instead of residing, I dare say he will be eternally flying backwards and forwards to London; and therefore I entreat that he may be provided for in some other place.'
Swift was accordingly set aside on account of youth, and from the year 1702, to the change of the ministry in the year 1710, few circumstances of his life can be found sufficiently material to be inserted here. From this last period, 'till the death of Queen Anne, we find him fighting on the side of the Tories, and maintaining their cause in pamphlets, poems, and weekly papers. In one of his letters to Mr. Pope he has this expression, 'I have conversed, in some freedom, with more ministers of state, of all parties, than usually happens to men of my level; and, I confess, in their capacity as ministers I look upon them as a race of people, whose acquaintance no man would court otherwise, than on the score of vanity and ambition.' A man always appears of more consequence to himself, than he is in reality to any other person. Such, perhaps, was the case of Dr. Swift. He knew how useful he was to the administration in general; and in one of his letters he mentions, that the place of historiographer was intended for him; but in this particular he flattered himself; at least, he remained without any preferment 'till the year 1713, when he was made dean of St. Patrick's. In point of power and revenue, such a deanery might be esteemed no inconsiderable promotion; but to an ambitious mind, whose perpetual view was a settlement in England, a dignity in any other country must appear only a profitable and an honourable kind of banishment. It is very probable, that the temper of Swift might occasion his English friends to wish him promoted at a distance. His spirit was ever untractable. The motions of his genius were often irregular. He assumed more of the air of a patron, than of a friend. He affected rather to dictate than advise. He was elated with the appearance of enjoying ministerial confidence. He enjoyed the shadow indeed, but the substance was detained from him. He was employed, not entrusted; and at the same time he imagined himself a subtle diver, who dextrously shot down into the profoundest regions of politics, he was suffered only to sound the shallows nearest the shore, and was scarce admitted to descend below the froth at the top. Swift was one of those strange kind of Tories, who lord Bolingbroke, in his letter to Sir William Wyndham, calls the Whimsicals, that is, they were Tories attach'd to the Hanoverian succession. This kind of Tory is so incongruous a creature, that it is a wonder ever such a one existed. Mrs. Pilkington informs us, that Swift had written A Defence of the last Ministers of Queen Anne, from an intention of restoring the Pretender, which Mr. Pope advised him to destroy, as not one word of it was true. Bolingbroke, by far the most accomplished man in that ministry (for Oxford was, in comparison of him, a statesman of no compass) certainly aimed at the restoration of the exiled family, however he might disguise to some people his real intentions, under the masque of being a Hanoverian Tory. This serves to corroberate the observation which lord Orrery makes of Swift: 'that he was employed, not trusted, &c.'
By reflexions of this sort, says lord Orrery, we may account for his disappointment of an English bishopric. A disappointment, which, he imagined, he owed to a joint application, made against him to the Queen, by Dr. Sharp, archbishop of York, and by a lady of the highest rank and character. Archbishop Sharpe, according to Swift's account, had represented him to the Queen as a person, who was no Christian; the great lady had supported the assertion, and the Queen, upon such assurances, had given away the bishopric, contrary to her Majesty's intentions. Swift kept himself, indeed, within some tolerable bounds when he spoke of the Queen; but his indignation knew no limits when he mentioned the archbishop, or the lady.
Most people are fond of a settlement in their native country, but Swift had not much reason to rejoice in the land where his lot had fallen; for upon his arrival in Ireland to take possesion of the deanery, he found the violence of party raging in that kingdom to the highest degree. The common people were taught to consider him as a Jacobite, and they proceeded so far in their detestation, as to throw stones and dirt at him as he passed thro' the streets. The chapter of St. Patrick's, like the rest of the kingdom, received him with great reluctance. They opposed him in every point he proposed. They avoided him as a pestilence, and resisted him as an invader and an enemy to his country. Such was his first reception, as dean of St. Patrick's. Fewer talents, and less firmness must have yielded to so outrageous an opposition. He had seen enough of human nature to be convinced that the passions of low, self-interested minds ebb and flow continually. They love they know not whom, they hate they know not why. They are captivated by words, guided by names, and governed by accidents. But to few the strange revolutions in this world, Dr. Swift, who was now the detestion of the Irish rabble, lived to be afterwards the most absolute monarch over them, that ever governed men. His first step was to reduce to reason and obedience his revd. brethren the the chapter of St. Patrick's; in which he succeeded so perfectly, and so speedily, that, in a short time after his arrival, not one member in that body offered to contradict him, even in trifles: on the contrary, they held him in the highest respect and veneration, so that he sat in the Chapter-House, like Jupiter in the Synod of the Gods.
In the beginning of the year 1714 Swift returned to England. He found his great friends, who sat in the seat of power, much disunited among themselves. He saw the Queen declining in her health, and distressed in her situation; while faction was exerting itself, and gathering new strength every day. He exerted the utmost of his skill to unite the ministers, and to cement the apertures of the state: but he found his pains fruitless, his arguments unavailing, and his endeavours, like the stone of Sisyphus, rolling back upon himself. He retired to a friend's house in Berkshire, where he remained 'till the Queen died. So fatal an event terminated all his views in England, and made him return as fast as possible to his deanery in Ireland, oppressed with grief and discontent. His hopes in England were now crushed for ever. As Swift was well known to have been attached to the Queen's last ministry, he met with several indignities from the populace, and, indeed, was equally abused by persons of all ranks and denominations. Such a treatment soured his temper, confined his acquaintance, and added bitterness to his stile.
From the year 1714, 'till he appeared in the year 1720 a champion for Ireland, against Wood's halfpence, his spirit of politics and patriotism was kept almost closely confined within his own breast. Idleness and trifles engrossed too many of his leisure hours; fools and sycophants too much of his conversation. His attendance upon the public service of the church was regular and uninterrupted; and indeed regularity was peculiar to all his actions, even in the meerest trifles. His hours of walking and reading never varied. His motions were guided by his watch, which was so constantly held in his hand, or placed before him on the table, that he seldom deviated many minutes in the revolution of his exercises and employments. In the year 1720 he began to re-assume, in some degree, the character of a political writer. A small pamphlet in defence of the Irish Manufactures was his first essay in Ireland in that kind of writing, and to that pamphlet he owed the turn of the popular tide in his favour. It was entitled, A Proposal for the Universal Use of Irish Manufacture in Clothes and Furniture of Houses, &c. utterly rejecting and renouncing every thing wearable that comes from England. This proposal immediately raised a very violent flame. The Printer was prosecuted, and the prosecution had the same effect, which generally attends those kind of measures. It added fuel to flame. But his greatest enemies must confess, that the pamphlet is written in the stile of a man who had the good of his country nearest his heart, who saw her errors, and wished to correct them; who felt her oppressions, and wished to relieve them; and who had a desire to rouze and awaken an indolent nation from a lethargic disposition, that might prove fatal to her constitution. This temporary opposition but increased the stream of his popularity. He was now looked upon in a new light, and was distinguished by the title of THE DEAN, and so high a degree of popularity did he attain, as to become an arbitrator, in disputes of property, amongst his neighbours; nor did any man dare to appeal from his opinion, or murmur at his decrees.
But the popular affection, which the dean had hitherto acquired, may be said not to have been universal, 'till the publication of the Drapier's Letters, which made all ranks, and all professions unanimous in his applause. The occasion of those letters was, a scarcity of copper coin in Ireland, to so great a degree, that, for some time past, the chief manufacturers throughout the kingdom were obliged to pay their workmen in pieces of tin, or in other tokens of suppositious value. Such a method was very disadvantageous to the lower parts of traffic, and was in general an impediment to the commerce of the state. To remedy this evil, the late King granted a patent to one Wood, to coin, during the term of fourteen years, farthings and halfpence in England, for the use of Ireland, to the value of a certain Aim specified. These halfpence and farthings were to be received by those persons, who would voluntarily accept them. But the patent was thought to be of such dangerous consequence to the public, and of such exorbitant advantage to the patentee, that the dean, under the character of M. B. Drapier, wrote a Letter to the People, warning them not to accept Wood's halfpence and farthings, as current coin. This first letter was succeeded by several others to the same purpose, all which are inserted in his works.
At the sound of the Drapier's trumpet, a spirit arose among the people. Persons of all ranks, parties and denominations, were convinced that the admission of Wood's copper must prove fatal to the commonwealth. The Papist, the Fanatic, the Tory, the Whig, all listed themselves volunteers, under the banner of the Drapier, and were all equally zealous to serve the common cause. Much heat, and many fiery speeches against the administration were the consequence of this union; nor had the flames been allayed, notwithstanding threats and proclamations, had not the coin been totally suppressed, and Wood withdrawn his patent. The name of Augustus was not bestowed upon Octavius Cæsar with more universal approbation, than the name of the Drapier was bestowed upon the dean. He had no sooner assumed his new cognomen, than he became the idol of the people of Ireland, to a degree of devotion, that in the most superstitious country, scarce any idol ever obtained. Libations to his health were poured out as frequent as to the immortal memory of King William. His effigies was painted in every street in Dublin. Acclamations and vows for his prosperity attended his footsteps wherever he passed. He was consulted in all points relating to domestic policy in general, and to the trade of Ireland in particular; but he was more immediately looked upon as the legislator of the Weavers, who frequently came in a body, consisting of 40 or 50 chiefs of their trade, to receive his advice in settling the rates of their manufactures, and the wages of their journeymen. He received their address with less majesty than sternness, and ranging his subjects in a circle round his parlour, spoke as copiously, and with as little difficulty and hesitation, to the several points in which they supplicated his assistance, as if trade had been the only study and employment of his life. When elections were depending for the city of Dublin, many Corporations refused to declare themselves, 'till they had consulted his sentiments and inclinations, which were punctually followed with equal chearfulness and submission.
In this state of power, and popular admiration, he remained 'till he lost his senses; a loss which he seemed to foresee, and prophetically lamented to many of his friends. The total deprivation of his senses came upon him by degrees. In the year 1736 he was seized with a violent fit of giddiness; he was at that time writing a satirical poem, called The Legion Club; but he found the effects of his giddiness so dreadful, that he left the poem unfinished, and never afterwards attempted a composition, either in verse or prose. However, his conversation still remained the same, lively and severe, but his memory gradually grew worse and worse, and as that decreased, he grew every day more fretful and impatient. In the year 1741, his friends found his passions so violent and ungovernable, his memory so decayed, and his reason so depraved, that they took the utmost precautions to keep all strangers from approaching him; for, 'till then, he had not appeared totally incapable of conversation. But early in the year 1742, the small remains of his understanding became entirely confused, and the violence of his rage increased absolutely to a degree of madness. In this miserable state he seemed to be appointed the first inhabitant of his own Hospital; especially as from an outrageous lunatic, he sunk afterwards to a quiet speechless ideot; and dragged out the remainder of his life in that helpless situation. He died towards the latter end of October 1745. The manner of his death was easy, without the least pang, or convulsion; even the rattling of his throat was scarce sufficient to give an alarm to his attendants, 'till within some very little time before he expired. A man in possession of his reason would have wished for such a kind dissolution; but Swift was totally insensible of happiness, or pain. He had not even the power or expression of a child, appearing for some years before his death, referred only as an example to mortify human pride, and to reverse that fine description of human nature, which is given us by the inimitable Shakespeare. 'What a piece of work is man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a God! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals!' Swift's friends often heard him lament the state of childhood and idiotism, to which some of the greatest men of this nation were reduced before their death. He mentioned, as examples within his own time, the duke of Marlborough and lord Somers; and when he cited these melancholy instances, it was always with a heavy sigh, and with gestures that shewed great uneasiness, as if he felt an impulse of what was to happen to him before he died. He left behind him about twelve thousand pounds, inclusive of the specific legacies mentioned in his will, and which may be computed at the sum of twelve hundred pounds, so that the remaining ten thousand eight hundred pounds, is entirely applicable to the Hospital for Idiots and Lunatics; an establishment remarkably generous, as those who receive the benefit, must for ever remain ignorant of their benefactor.
Lord Orerry has observed, that a propension to jocularity and humour is apparent in the last works of Swift. His Will, like all his other writings, is drawn up in his own peculiar manner. Even in so serious a composition, he cannot help indulging himself in leaving legacies, that carry with them an air of raillery and jest. He disposes of his three best hats (his best, his second best, and his third best beaver) with an ironical solemnity, that renders the bequests ridiculous. He bequeaths, 'To Mr. John Grattan a silver-box, to keep in it the tobacco which the said John usually chewed, called pigtail.' But his legacy to Mr. Robert Grattan, is still more extraordinary. 'Item, I bequeath to the Revd. Mr. Robert Grattan, Prebendary of St. Audeon's, my strong box, on condition of his giving the sole use of the said box to his brother, Dr. James Grattan, during the life of the said Doctor, who hath more occasion for it.'
These are so many last expressions of his turn, and way of thinking, and no doubt the persons thus distinguished looked upon these instances as affectionate memorials of his friendship, and tokens of the jocose manner, in which he had treated them during his life-time.
With regard to Dean Swift's poetical character, the reader will take the following sketch of it in the words of Lord Orrery. 'The poetical performances of Swift (says he) ought to be considered as occasional poems, written either to pleasure[3], or to vex some particular persons. We must not suppose them designed for posterity; if he had cultivated his genius that way, he must certainly have excelled, especially in satire. We see fine sketches in several of his pieces; but he seems more desirous to inform and strengthen his mind, than to indulge the luxuriancy of his imagination. He chuses to discover, and correct errors in the works of others, rather than to illustrate, and add beauties of his own. Like a skilful artist, he is fond of probing wounds to their depth, and of enlarging them to open view. He aims to be severely useful, rather than politely engaging; and as he was either not formed, nor would take pains to excel in poetry, he became in some measure superior to it; and assumed more the air, and manner of a critic than a poet.' Thus far his lordship in his VIth letter, but in his IXth, he adds, when speaking of the Second Volume of Swift's Works, 'He had the nicest ear; he is remarkably chaste, and delicate in his rhimes. A bad rhime appeared to him one of the capital sins of poetry.'
The Dean's poem on his celebrated Vanessa, is number'd among the best of his poetical pieces. Of this lady it will be proper to give some account, as she was a character as singular as Swift himself.
Vanessa's real name was Esther Vanhomrich[4]. She was one of the daughters of Bartholomew Vanhomrich, a Dutch merchant of Amsterdam; who upon the Revolution went into Ireland, and was appointed by king William a commissioner of the revenue. The Dutch merchant, by parsimony and prudence, had collected a fortune of about 16,000l. He bequeathed an equal division of it to his wife, and his four children, of which two were sons, and two were daughters. The sons after the death of their father travelled abroad: The eldest died beyond sea; and the youngest surviving his brother only a short time, the whole patrimony fell to his two sisters, Esther and Mary.
With this encrease of wealth, and with heads and hearts elated by affluence, and unrestrained by fore-sight or discretion, the widow Vanhomrich, and her two daughters, quitted their native country for the more elegant pleasures of the English court. During their residence at London, they lived in a course of prodigality, that stretched itself far beyond the limits of their income, and reduced them to great distress, in the midst of which the mother died, and the two daughters hastened in all secresy back to Ireland, beginning their journey on a Sunday, to avoid the interruption of creditors. Within two years after their arrival in Ireland, Mary the youngest sister died, and the small remains of the shipwreck'd fortune center'd in Vanessa.
Vanity makes terrible devastations in a female breast: Vanessa was excessively vain. She was fond of dress; impatient to be admired; very romantic in her turn of mind; superior in her own opinion to all her sex; full of pertness, gaiety, and pride; not without some agreeable accomplishments, but far from being either beautiful or genteel: Ambitious at any rate to be esteemed a wit; and with that view always affecting to keep company with wits; a great reader, and a violent admirer of poetry; happy in the thoughts of being reputed Swift's concubine; but still aiming to be his wife. By nature haughty and disdainful, looking with contempt upon her inferiors; and with the smiles of self-approbation upon her equals; but upon Dr. Swift, with the eyes of love: Her love was no doubt founded in vanity.
Though Vanessa had exerted all the arts of her sex, to intangle Swift in matrimony; she was yet unsuccessful. She had lost her reputation, and the narrowness of her income, and coldness of her lover contributed to make her miserable, and to increase the phrensical disposition of her mind. In this melancholly situation she remained several years, during which time Cadenus (Swift) visited her frequently. She often press'd him to marry her: His answers were rather turns of wit, than positive denials; till at last being unable to sustain the weight of misery any longer, she wrote a very tender epistle to him, insisting peremptorily upon a serious answer, and an immediate acceptance, or absolute refusal of her as his wife. His reply was delivered by his own hand. He brought it with him when he made his final visit; and throwing down the letter upon the table with great passion, hastened back to his house, carrying in his countenance the frown of anger, and indignation. Vanessa did not survive many days the letter delivered to her by Swift, but during that short interval she was sufficiently composed, to cancel a will made in his favour, and to make another, wherein she left her fortune (which by a long retirement was in some measure retrieved) to her two executors, Dr. Berkley the late lord bishop of Cloyne, and Mr. Marshal one of the king's Serjeants at law. Thus perished under all the agonies of despair, Mrs. Esther Vanhomrich; a miserable example of an ill-spent life, fantastic wit, visionary schemes, and female weakness.
It is strange that vanity should have so great a prevalence in the female breast, and yet it is certain that to this principle it was owing, that Swift's house was often a seraglio of very virtuous women, who attended him from morning till night, with an obedience, an awe, and an assiduity that are seldom paid to the richest, or the most powerful lovers. These ladies had no doubt a pride in being thought the companions of Swift; but the hours which were spent in his company could not be very pleasant, as his sternness and authority were continually exerted to keep them in awe.
Lord Orrery has informed us, that Swift took every opportunity to expose and ridicule Dryden, for which he imagines there must have been some affront given by that great man to Swift. In this particular we can satisfy the reader from authentic information.
When Swift was a young man, and not so well acquainted with the world as he afterwards became, he wrote some Pindaric Odes. In this species of composition he succeeded ill; sublimity and fire, the indispensable requisites in a Pindaric Ode not being his talent. As Mr. Dryden was Swift's kinsman, these odes were shewn to him for his approbation, who said to him with an unreserved freedom, and in the candour of a friend, 'Cousin Swift, turn your thoughts some other way, for nature has never formed you for a Pindaric poet.'
Though what Dryden observed, might in some measure be true, and Swift perhaps was conscious that he had not abilities to succeed in that species of writing; yet this honest dissuasive of his kinsman he never forgave. The remembrance of it soured his temper, and heated his passions, whenever Dryden's name was mention'd.
We shall now take a view of Swift in his moral life, the distinction he has obtained in the literary world having rendered all illustrations of his genius needless.
Lord Orrery, throughout his excellent work, from which we have drawn our account of Swift, with his usual marks of candour, has displayed his moral character. In many particulars, the picture he draws of the Dean resembles the portrait of the same person as drawn by Mrs. Pilkington.
'I have beheld him (says his lordship) in all humours and dispositions, and I have formed various speculations from the several weaknesses to which I observed him liable. His capacity, and strength of mind, were undoubtedly equal to any talk whatsoever. His pride, his spirit, or his ambition (call it by what name you please) was boundless; but his views were checked in his younger years, and the anxiety of that disappointment had a sensible effect upon all his actions. He was sour and severe, but not absolutely ill-natur'd. He was sociable only to particular friends, and to them only at particular hours. He knew politeness more than he practiced it. He was a mixture of avarice and generosity; the former was frequently prevalent, the latter seldom appeared unless excited by compassion. He was open to adulation, and would not, or could not, distinguish between low flattery and just applause. His abilities rendered him superior to envy. He was undisguised, and perfectly sincere. I am induced to think that he entered into orders, more from some private and fixed resolution, than from absolute choice: Be that as it may, he performed the duties of the church with great punctuality, and a decent degree of devotion. He read prayers, rather in a strong nervous voice, than in a graceful manner; and although he has been often accused of irreligion, nothing of that kind appeared in his conversation or behaviour. His cast of mind induced him to think and speak more of politics than religion. His perpetual views were directed towards power; and his chief aim was to be removed to England: But when he found himself entirely disappointed, he turned his thoughts to opposition, and became the Patron of Ireland.'
Mrs. Pilkington has represented him as a tyrant in his family, and has discovered in him a violent propension to be absolute in every company where he was. This disposition, no doubt, made him more feared than loved; but as he had the most unbounded vanity to gratify, he was pleased with the servility and awe with which inferiors approached him. He may be resembled to an eastern monarch, who takes delight in surveying his slaves, trembling at his approach, and kneeling with reverence at his feet.
Had Swift been born to regal honours, he would doubtless have bent the necks of his people to the yoke: As a subject, he was restless and turbulent; and though as lord Orrery says, he was above corruption, yet that virtue was certainly founded on his pride, which disdained every measure, and spurned every effort in which he himself was not the principal.
He was certainly charitable, though it had an unlucky mixture of ostentation in it. One particular act of his charity (not mentioned, except by Mrs. Pilkington, in any account of him yet published) is well worthy of remembrance, praise, and imitation:—He appropriated the sum of five-hundred pounds intirely to the use of poor tradesmen and handicraftsmen, whose honesty and industry, he thought merited assistance, and encouragement: This he lent to them in small loans, as their exigencies required, without any interest; and they repaid him at so much per week, or month, as their different circumstances best enabled them.—To the wealthy let us say—
"Abi tu et fac similiter."
[1] Lord Orrery, page 6.
[2] The authors of the Monthly Review have justly remarked, that this observation of his lordship's seems premature.
The same public rumour, say they, that made HER Sir William Temple's daughter, made HIM also Sir William's son: Therefore he (Swift) could never with decency, have acknowledged Mrs. Johnson as his wife, while that rumour continued to retain any degree of credit; and if there had been really no foundation for it, surely it might have been no very hard task to obviate its force, by producing the necessary proofs and circumstances of his birth: Yet, we do not find that ever this was done, either by the Dean or his relations.
[3] We are assured, there was one while a misunderstanding subsisting between Swift and Pope: But that worthy gentleman, the late general Dormer (who had a great regard for both) reconciled them, e'er it came to an open rupture:—Though the world might be deprived by the general's mediation of great matter of entertainment, which the whetted wit of two such men might have afforded; yet his good-nature, and sincere friendship, deserves to be remember'd with honour.—This gentleman Mr. Cibber senior was very intimate with, and once hinted to him, 'He was concerned to find he stood so ill in the Dean's opinion, whose great parts, wit, genius, &c. he held in the highest estimation; nor could he easily account for the Dean's so frequently appearing his enemy, as he never knowingly had offended him; and regretted the want of an opportunity of being better acquainted with him.'—The general had also a great regard for Mr. Cibber, and wished to bring them together on an agreeable footing:—Why they were not so, came out soon after.—The secret was,—Mr. Pope was angry; [for the long-latent cause, look into Mr. Cibber's letter to Mr. Pope.] Passion and prejudice are not always friends to truth;—and the foam of resentment never rose higher, than when it boil'd and swell'd in Mr. Pope's bosom: No wonder then, that his misrepresentation might make the Dean believe, Mr. Cibber was not unworthy of that satire and raillery (not always just neither, and sometimes solicited) which is not unsparingly thrown on him in the Dean's works:—That this was the case, appears from the following circumstance.
As soon as Mr. Cibber's Apology was first printed, it was immediately carried over to Dublin, and given to Mr. Faulkner (an eminent printer and bookseller there) by a gentleman, who wished to see an edition of it in Ireland; Mr. Faulkner published it, and the success thereof was so great, some thousands thereof were disposed of in a very short time: Just before the intended edition appeared, the Dean (who often visited Mr. Faulkner) coming into the shop, asked, 'What new pieces were likely to come forth?'—Mr. Faulkner gave Mr. Cibber's Apology to him;—The Dean's curiosity [Transcriber's note: 'curosity' in original] was pretty strong to see a work of that uncommon sort:—In short, he stay'd and dined there; and did not quit the house, or the book, 'till he had read it through: He advised Faulkner, to lose no time in printing it; and said, he would answer for it's success:—He declared, he had not perus'd any thing a long time that had pleas'd him so much; and dwelt long in commendation of it: He added, that he almost envy'd the author the pleasure he must have in writing it;—That he was sorry he had ever said any thing to his disadvantage; and was convinced Cibber had been very much misrepresented to him; nor did he scruple to say, that, as it had been formerly the fashion to abuse Cibber, he had unwarily been drawn into it by Pope, and others. He often, afterwards, spoke in praise of Mr. Cibber, and his writing in general, and of this work in particular.—He afterwards told Mr. Faulkner, he had read Cibber's Apology thro' three times; that he was more and more pleased with it: That the style was not inferior to any English he had ever read: That his words were properly adapted: His similes happy, uncommon, and well chosen: He then in a pleasant manner said—'You must give me this book, which is the first thing I ever begg'd from you.' To this, we may be sure Mr. Faulkner readily consented. Ever after in company, the Dean gave this book a great character.—Let the reader make the application of this true and well known fact.
[4] The name is pronounced Vannumery.
* * * * *
This lady was born in Ireland; and, as Mrs. Barber judiciously remarks, was one of the most extraordinary women that either this age, or perhaps any other, ever produced. She died in the year 1733, at the age of 27, and was allowed long before to be an excellent scholar, not only in Greek and Roman literature, but in history, divinity, philosophy, and mathematics.
Mrs. Grierson (says she) 'gave a proof of her knowledge in the Latin tongue, by her dedication of the Dublin edition of Tacitus to the lord Carteret, and by that of Terence to his son, to whom she likewise wrote a Greek epigram. She wrote several fine poems in English[1], on which she set so little value, that she neglected to leave copies behind her of but very few.
'What makes her character the more remarkable is, that she rose to this eminence of learning merely by the force of her own genius, and continual application. She was not only happy in a fine imagination, a great memory, an excellent understanding, and an exact judgment, but had all these crowned by virtue and piety: she was too learned to be vain, too wise to be conceited, too knowing and too clear-sighted to irreligious.
'If heaven had spared her life, and blessed her with health, which she wanted for some years before her death, there is good reason to think she would have made as great a figure in the learned world, as any of her sex are recorded to have done.
'As her learning and abilities raised her above her own sex, so they left her no room to envy any; on the contrary, her delight was to see others excel. She was always ready to advise and direct those who applied to her, and was herself willing to be advised.
'So little did she value herself upon her uncommon excellences, that it has often recalled to my mind a fine reflexion of a French author,That great geniuses should be superior to their own abilities.
'I perswade myself that this short account of so extraordinary a woman, of whom much more might have been said, will not be disagreeable to my readers; nor can I omit what I think is greatly to the lord Carteret's honour, that when he was lord lieutenant of Ireland, he obtained a patent for Mr. Grierson, her husband, to be the King's Printer, and to distinguish and reward her uncommon merit, had her life inserted in it.' Thus far Mrs. Barber. We shall now subjoin Mrs. Pilkington's account of this wonderful genius.
'About two years before this, a young woman (afterwards married to Mr. Grierson) of about eighteen years of age, was brought to my father[2], to be by him instructed in Midwifry: she was mistress of Hebrew[3], Greek, Latin, and French, and understood the mathematics as well as most men: and what made these extraordinary talents yet more surprizing was, that her parents were poor, illiterate, country people: so that her learning appeared like the gift poured out on the apostles, of speaking all languages without the pains of study; or, like the intuitive knowledge of angels: yet inasmuch as the power of miracles is ceased, we must allow she used human means for such great and excellent acquirements. And yet, in a long friendship and familiarity with her, I could never obtain a satisfactory account from her on this head; only she said, she had received some little instruction from the minister of the parish, when she could spare time from her needle-work, to which she was closely kept by her mother. She wrote elegantly both in verse and prose, and some of the most delightful hours I ever passed were in the conversation of this female philosopher.
'My father readily consented to accept of her as a pupil, and gave her a general invitation to his table; so that she and I were seldom asunder. My parents were well pleased with our intimacy, as her piety was not inferior to her learning. Her turn was chiefly to philosophical or divine subjects; yet could her heavenly muse descend from its sublime height to the easy epistolary stile, and suit itself to my then gay disposition[4].
[1] Mrs. Barber has preserved several specimens of her talent in this way, which are printed with her own poems.
[2] Dr. Van Lewen of Dublin, an eminent physician and man-midwife.
[3] Her knowledge of the Hebrew is not mentioned by Mrs. Barber.
[4] Vide MRS. PILKINGTON'S MEMOIRS, Vol. I.
* * * * *
The Revd. Dr. Birch, who has prefixed a life of Mrs. Cockburn before the collection he has made of her works, with great truth observes, that it is a justice due to the public, as well as to the memory of Mrs. Cockburn, to premise some account of so extraordinary a person. "Posterity, at least, adds he, will be so sollicitous to know, to whom they will owe the most demonstrative and perspicuous reasonings, upon subjects of eternal importance; and her own sex is entitled to the fullest information about one, who has done such honour to them, and raised our ideas of their intellectual powers, by an example of the greatest extent of understanding and correctness of judgment, united to all the vivacity of imagination. Antiquity, indeed, boasted of its Female Philosophers, whose merits have been drawn forth in an elaborate treatise of Menage[1]. But our own age and country may without injustice or vanity oppose to those illustrious ladies the defender of Lock and Clark; who, with a genius equal to the most eminent of them, had the superior advantage of cultivating it in the only effectual method of improvement, the study of a real philosophy, and a theology worthy human nature, and its all-perfect author. [Transcriber's note: closing quotes missing from original.]
She was the daughter of captain David Trotter, a Scots gentleman, and commander of the royal navy in the reign of Charles II. He was highly in favour with that prince, who employed him as commodore in the demolition of Tangier, in the year 1683. Soon after he was sent to convoy the fleet of the Turkey company; when being seized by the plague, then raging at Scanderoon, he died there. His death was an irreparable loss to his family, who were defrauded of all his effects on board his ship, which were very considerable, and of all the money which he had advanced to the seamen, during a long voyage: And to add to this misfortune, the goldsmith, in whose hands the greatest part of his money was lodged, became soon after a bankrupt. These accumulated circumstances of distress exciting the companion of king Charles, the captain's widow was allowed a pension, which ended with that king's life; nor had she any consideration for her losses in the two succeeding reigns. But queen Anne, upon her accession to the throne, granted her an annual pension of twenty pounds.
Captain Trotter at his death, left only two daughters, the youngest of whom, Catherine, our celebrated author, was born in London, August 16, 1679. She gave early marks of her genius, and was not passed her childhood when she surprized a company of her relations and friends with extemporary verses, on an accident which had fallen under her observation in the street. She both learned to write, and made herself mistress of the French language, by her own application and diligence, without any instructor. But she had some assistance in the study of the Latin Grammar and Logic, of which latter she drew up an abstract for her own use. The most serious and important subjects, and especially [Transcriber's note: 'espepecially' in original] those of religion, soon engaged her attention. But not withstanding her education, her intimacy with several families of distinction of the Romish persuasion exposed her, while very young, to impressions in favour of that church, which not being removed by her conferences with some eminent and learned members of the church of England, she followed the dictates of a misguided conscience, and embraced the Romish communion, in which she continued till the year 1707.
She was but 14 years of age, when she wrote a copy of verses upon Mr. Bevil Higgons's sickness and recovery from the small pox, which are printed in our author's second volume. Her next production was a Tragedy called Agnes de Castro, which was acted at the Theatre-royal, in 1695, when she was only in her seventeenth year, and printed in 1696. The reputation of this performance, and the verses which she addressed to Mr. Congreve upon his Mourning Bride, in 1697, were probably the foundation of her acquaintance with that admirable writer.
Her second Tragedy, intitled Fatal Friendship, was acted in 1698, at the new Theatre in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields. This Tragedy met with great applause, and is still thought the most perfect of her dramatic performances. Among other copies of verses sent to her upon occasion of it, and prefixed to it, was one from an unknown hand, which afterwards appeared to be from the elegant pen of Mr. Hughs, author of the Siege of Damascus [2].
The death of Mr. Dryden engaged her to join with several other ladies in paying a just tribute to the memory of that great improver of the strength, fulness, and harmony of English verse; and their performances were published together, under the title of the Nine Muses; or Poems written by so many Ladies, upon the Death of the late famous John Dryden, Esq;
Her dramatic talents not being confined to Tragedy, she brought upon the stage, in 1701, a Comedy called Love at a Loss; or most Votes carry it, published in May that year. In the same year she gave the public her third Tragedy, intitled, The Unhappy Penitent, acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane. In the dedication to Charles lord Hallifax, she draws the characters of several of the most eminent of her predecessors in tragic poetry, with great judgment and precision. She observes, that Shakespear had all the images of nature present to him, studied her thoroughly, and boldly copied all her various features: and that though he chiefly exerted himself on the more masculine passions, it was the choice of his judgment, not the restraint of his genius; and he seems to have designed those few tender moving scenes, which he has given us, as a proof that he could be every way equally admirable. She allows Dryden to have been the most universal genius which this nation ever bred; but thinks that he did not excel in every part; for though he is distinguished in most of his writings, by greatness and elevation of thought, yet at the same time that he commands our admiration of himself, he little moves our concern for those whom he represents, not being formed for touching the softer passions. On the other hand, Otway, besides his judicious choice of the fable, had a peculiar art to move compassion, which, as it is one of the chief ends of Tragedy, he found most adapted to his genius; and never venturing where that did not lead him, excelled in the pathetic. And had Lee, as she remarks, consulted his strength as well, he might have given us more perfect pieces; but aiming at the sublime, instead of being great, he is extravagant; his stile too swelling; and if we pursue him in his flight, he often carries us out of nature. Had he restrained that vain ambition, and intirely applied himself to describe the softest of the passions (for love, of all the passions, he seems best to have understood, if that be allowed a proper subject for Tragedy) he had certainly had fewer defects.
But poetry and dramatic writing did not so far engross the thoughts of our author, but that she sometimes turned them to subjects of a very different nature; and at an age when few of the other sex were capable of understanding the Essay of Human Understanding, and most of them prejudiced against the novelty of its principles; and though she was at that time engaged in the profession of a religion not very favourable to so rational a philosophy as that of Mr. Lock; yet she had read that incomparable book, with so clear a comprehension, and so unbiassed a judgment, that her own conviction of the truth and importance of the notions contained in it, led her to endeavour that of others, by removing some of the objections urged against them. She drew up therefore a Defence of the Essay, against some Remarks which had been published against it in 1667. The author of these remarks was never known to Mr. Lock, who animadverted upon them with some marks of chagrin, at the end of his reply to Stillingfleet, 1697. But after the death of the ingenious Dr. Thomas Burner, master of the Charter-House, it appeared from his papers, that the Remarks were the product of his pen. They were soon followed by second Remarks, printed the same year, in vindication of the first, against Mr. Lock's Answer to them; and in 1699, by Third Remarks, addressed likewise to Mr. Lock. Mrs. Trotter's Defence of the Essay against all these Remarks was finished so early as the beginning of December 1701, when she was but 22 years old. But being more apprehensive of appearing before the great writer whom she defended, than of the public censure, and conscious that the name of a woman would be a prejudice against a work of that nature, she resolved to conceal herself with the utmost care. But her title to the reputation of this piece did not continue long a secret to the world. For Mrs. Burnet, the late wife of Dr. Burnet, bishop of Sarum, a lady of an uncommon degree of knowledge, and whose Method of Devotion, which passed through several editions, is a proof of her exemplary piety, and who, as well as that prelate, honoured our author with a particular friendship, notwithstanding the difference of her religion, being informed that she was engaged in writing, and that it was not poetry, was desirous to know the subject. This Mrs. Trotter could not deny a lady of her merit, in whom she might safely confide, and who, upon being acquainted with it, shewed an equal sollicitude that the author might not be known. But afterwards finding the performance highly approved by the bishop her husband, Mr. Norris of Bemmerton, and Mr. Lock himself; she thought the reasons of secrecy ceased, and discovered the writer; and in June 1707 returned her thanks to Mrs. Trotter, then in London, for her present of the book, in a letter which does as much honour to her own understanding, principles and temper, as to her friend, to whom she addressed it. Dr. Birch has given a copy of this letter.
Mr. Lock likewise was so highly satisfied with the Defence, (which was perhaps the only piece that appeared in favour of his Essay, except one by Mr. Samuel Bold, rector of Steeple in Dorsetshire, 1699) that being in London, he desired Mr. King, afterwards lord high chancellor, to make Mrs. Trotter a visit, and a present of books; and when she had owned herself, he wrote to her a letter of compliment, a copy of which is inserted in these memoirs.
But while our author continued to shew the world so deep a penetration into subjects of the most difficult and abstract kind, she was still incapable of extricating herself from those subtilties and perplexities of argument, which retained her in the church of Rome. And the sincerity of her attachment to it, in all its outward severities, obliged her to so strict an observance of its fasts, as proved extremely injurious to her health. Upon which Dr. Denton Nicholas, a very ingenious learned physician of her acquaintance, advised her to abate of those rigours of abstinence, as insupportable to a constitution naturally infirm.
She returned to the exercise of her dramatic genius in 1703, and having fixed upon the Revolution of Sweden under Gustavus Erickson (which has been related in prose with so much force and beauty by the Abbé Vertot) for the subject of a Tragedy, she sent the first draught of it to Mr. Congreve, who returned her an answer, which, on account of the just remarks upon the conduct of the drama, well deserves a place here, did it not exceed our proposed bounds, and therefore we must refer the reader to Dr. Birch's account. This Tragedy was acted in 1706, at the Queen's Theatre in the Hay-Market, and was printed in quarto.
By a letter from Mrs. Trotter to her friend George Burnet of Kemnay in Scotland, Esq; then at Geneva, dated February 2, 1703-4, it appears that she then began to entertain more moderate notions of religion, and to abate of her zeal for the church of Rome. Her charitableness and latitude of sentiments seems to have increased a-pace, from the farther examination which she was now probably making into the state of the controversy between the church of Rome and the Protestants; for in another letter to Mr. Burnet, of August 8, 1704, she speaks to the subject of religion, with a spirit of moderation unusual in the communion of which she still professed herself.
'I wish, (says she) there was no distinction of churches; and then I doubt not there would be much more real religion, the name and notion of which I am so sorry to observe confined to the being of some particular community; and the whole of it, I am afraid, placed by most in a zeal of those points, which make the differences between them; from which mistaken zeal, no doubt, have proceeded all the massacres, persecutions, and hatred of their fellow christians, which all churches have been inclined to, when in power. And I believe it is generally true, that those who are most bigotted to a sect, or most rigid and precise in their forms and outward discipline, are most negligent of the moral duties, which certainly are the main end of religion. I have observed this so often, both in private persons and public societies, that I am apt to suspect it every where.'
The victory at Blenheim, which exercised the pens of Mr. Addison and Mr. John Philips, whose poems on that occasion divided the admiration of the public, tempted Mrs. Trotter to write a copy of verses to the duke of Marlborough, upon his return from his glorious campaign in Germany, December, 1704. But being doubtful with respect to the publication of them, she sent them in manuscript to his grace; and received for answer, that the duke and duchess, and the lord treasurer Godolphin, with several others to whom they were shewn, were greatly pleased with them; and that good judges of poetry had declared, that there were some lines in them superior to any that had been written on the subject. Upon this encouragement she sent the poem to the press.
The high degree of favour with which she was honoured by these illustrious persons, gave her, about this time, hopes of some establishment of her fortune, which had hitherto been extremely narrow and precarious. But though she failed of such an establishment, she succeeded in 1705, in another point, which was a temporary relief to her. This particular appears from one of her letters printed in the second volume; but of what nature or amount this relief was, we do not find.
Her enquiries into the nature of true religion were attended with their natural and usual effects, in opening and enlarging her notions beyond the contracted pale of her own church. For in her letter of the 7th of July 1705, to Mr. Burnet, she says, 'I am zealous to have you agree with me in this one article, that all good christians are of the same religion; a sentiment which I sincerely confess, how little soever it is countenanced by the church of Rome.' And in the latter end of the following year, or the beginning of 1707, her doubts about the Romish religion, which she had so many years professed, having led her to a thorough examination of the grounds of it, by consulting the best books on both sides of the question, and advising with men of the best judgment, the result was a conviction of the falseness of the pretensions of that church, and a return to that of England, to which she adhered during the rest of her life. In the course of this enquiry, the great and leading question concerning A Guide in Controversy, was particularly discussed by her; and the two letters which she wrote upon it, the first to Mr. Bennet, a Romish priest, and the second to Mr. H——, who had procured an answer to that letter from a stranger, Mr. Beimel's indisposition preventing him from returning one, were thought so valuable on account of the strength and perspicuity of reasoning, as well as their conciseness, that she consented to the importunity of her friends, for their publication in June 1707, under the following title, A Discourse concerning a Guide in Controversies; in two Letters: Written to one of the Church Church of Rome, by a Person lately converted from that Communion; a later edition of them being since printed at Edinburgh in 1728 in 8vo. Bishop Burnet wrote the preface to them, though without his name to it; and he observes, that they might be of use to such of the Roman Catholics as are perswaded, that those who deny the infallibility of their church, take away all certainty of the Christian religion, or of the authority of the scriptures. This is the main topic of those two letters, and the point was considered by our author as of such importance, that she procured her friend Mrs. Burnet to consult Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Clark upon it, and to show him a paper, which had been put into her hands, urging the difficulties on that article, on the side of the Papists. The sentiments of that great man upon this subject are comprised in a letter from Mrs. Burnet to Mrs. Trotter, of which our editor has given a copy, to which we refer the reader in the 31st page of his account.
In 1708 our author was married to Mr. Cockburn, the son of Dr. Cockburn, an eminent and learned divine of Scotland, at first attached to the court of St. Germains, but obliged to quit it on account of his inflexible adherence to the Protestant religion; then for some time minister of the Episcopal church at Amsterdam, and at last collated to the rectory of Northaw in Middlesex, by Dr. Robinson bishop of London, at the recommendation of Queen Anne. Mr. Cockburn, his son, soon after his marriage with our author, had the donative of Nayland in Sussex, where he settled in the same year 1708; but returned afterwards from thence to London, to be curate of St. Dunstan's in Fleet-street, where he continued 'till the accession of his late majesty to the throne, when falling into a scruple about the oath of abjuration, though he always prayed for the King and Royal Family by name, he was obliged to quit that station, and for ten or twelve years following was reduced to great difficulties in the support of his family; during which time he instructed the youth of the academy in Chancery-Lane, in the Latin tongue. At last, in 1726, by consulting the lord chancellor King and his own father, upon the sense and intent of that oath, and by reading some papers put into his hands, with relation to it, he was reconciled to the taking of it. In consequence of this, being the year following invited to be minister of the Episcopal congregation at Aberdeen in Scotland, he qualified himself conformably to the law, and, on the day of his present Majesty's accession, preached a sermon there on the duty and benefit of praying for the government. This sermon being printed and animadverted upon, he published a reply to the remarks on it, with some papers relating to the oath of abjuration, which have been much esteemed. Soon after his settlement at Aberdeen, the lord chancellor presented him to the living of Long-Horsely, near Morpeth in Northumberland, as a means of enabling him to support and educate his family; for which purpose he was allowed to continue his function at Aberdeen, 'till the negligence and ill-behaviour of the curates, whom he employed at Long Horsely, occasioned Dr. Chandler, the late bishop of Durham, to call him to residence on that living, 1737; by which means he was forced to quit his station at Aberdeen, to the no small diminution of his income. He was a man of considerable learning; and besides his sermon abovementioned, and the vindication of it, he published, in the Weekly Miscellany, A Defence of Prime Ministers, in the Character of Joseph; and a Treatise of the Mosaic Design, published since his death.
Mrs. Cockburn, after her marriage, was entirely diverted from her studies for many years, by attending tending upon the duties of a wife and a mother, and by the ordinary cares of an encreasing family, and the additional ones arising from the reduced circumstances of her husband. However, her zeal for Mr. Lock's character and writings drew her again into the public light in 1716, upon this occasion.
Dr. Holdsworth, fellow of St. John's College in Oxford, had preached on Easter-Monday, 1719 20, before that university, a sermon on John v. 28, 29, which he published, professing in his title page to examine and answer the Cavils, False Reasonings, and False Interpretations of Scripture, of Mr. Lock and others, against the Resurrection of the Same Body. This sermon did not reach Mrs. Cockburn's hands 'till some years after; when the perusal of it forced from her some animadversions, which she threw together in the form of a letter to the Dr. and sent to him in May 1724, with a design of suppressing it entirely, if it should have the desired effect upon him. After nine months the Dr. informed her, that he had drawn up a large and particular answer to it, but was unwilling to trust her with his manuscript, 'till she should publish her own. However, after a long time, and much difficulty, she at last obtained the perusal of his answer; but not meeting with that conviction from it, which would have made her give up her cause, she was prevailed on to let the world judge between them, and accordingly published her Letter to Dr. Holdsworth, in January 1726 7, without her name, but said in the title page to be by the author of, A Defence of Mr. Lock's Essay of Human Understanding. The Dr. whose answer to it was already finished, was very expeditious in the publication of it in June 1727, in an 8vo volume, under the title of A Defence of the Doctrine of the Resurrection of the same Body, &c.
Mrs. Cockburn wrote a very particular reply to this, and entitled it, A Vindication of Mr. Lock's Principles, from the injurious Imputations of Dr. Holdsworth. But though it is an admirable performance, and she was extremely desirous of doing justice to Mr. Lock and herself, yet not meeting with any Bookseller willing to undertake, nor herself being able to support the expence of the impression, it continued in manuscript, and was reserved to enrich the collection published after her death.
Her Remarks upon some Writers in the Controversy concerning the Foundation of Moral Duty and Moral Obligation were begun during the winter of the year 1739, and finished in the following one; for the weakness of her eyes, which had been a complaint of many years standing, not permitting her to use, by candlelight, her needle, which so fully employed her in the summer season, that she read little, and wrote less; she amused herself, during the long winter-evenings, in digesting her thoughts upon the most abstract subjects in morality and metaphysics. They continued in manuscript till 1743, for want of a Bookseller inclined to accept the publication of them, and were introduced to the world in August that year, in The History of the Works of the Learned. Her name did not go with them, but they were Inscribed with the utmost Deference to Alexander Pope, Esq; by an Admirer of his moral Character; for which she shews a remarkable zeal in her letters, whenever she has occasion to mention him. And her high opinion of him in that respect, founded chiefly on his writings, and especially his letters, as well as her admiration of his genius, inspired her with a strong desire of being known to him; for which purpose she drew up a pretty long letter to him about the year 1738: but it was never sent. The strength, clearness, and vivacity shewn in her Remarks upon the most abstract and perplexed questions, immediately raised the curiosity of all good judges about the concealed writer; and their admiration was greatly increased when her sex and advanced age were known. And the worthy Dr. Sharp[3], archdeacon of Northumberland, who had these Remarks in manuscript, and encouraged the publication of them, being convinced by them, that no person was better qualified for a thorough examination of the grounds of morality, entered into a correspondence with her upon that subject. But her ill state of health at last interrupted her prosecution of it; a circumstance to be regretted, since a discussion carried on with so much sagacity and candour on both sides, would, in all probability, have left little difficulty remaining on the question.
Dr. Rutherforth's Essay on the Nature and Obligations of virtue, published in May 1744, soon engaged her thoughts, and notwithstanding the asthmatic disorder, which had seized her many years before, and now left her small intervals of ease, she applied herself to the confutation of that elaborate discourse; and having finished it with a spirit, elegance, and perspicuity equal, if not superior to all her former writings, transmitted her manuscript to Mr. Warburton, who published it in 8vo. with a Preface of his own, in April 1747, under the title of Remarks upon the Principles and Reasonings of Dr. Rutherforth's Essay on the Nature and Obligations of Virtue, in Vindication of the contrary Principles and Reasons inforced in the Writings of the late Dr. Samuel Clark.
The extensive reputation which this and her former writings had gained her, induced her friends to propose to her, the collecting and publishing them in a body. And upon her consenting to the scheme, which was to be executed by subscription, in order to secure to her the full benefit of the edition, it met with a ready encouragement from all persons of true taste; but though Mrs. Cockburn did not live to discharge the office of editor, yet the public has received the acquisition by her death, of a valuable series of letters, which her own modesty would have restrained her from permitting to see the light. And it were to be wished that these two volumes, conditioned for by the terms of subscription, could have contained all her dramatic writings, of which only one is here published. But as that was impossible, the preference was, upon the maturest deliberation, given to those in prose, as superior in their kind to the most perfect of her poetical, and of more general and lasting use to the world.
The loss of her husband on the 4th of January 1748, in the 71st year of his age, was a severe shock to her; and she did not long survive him, dying on the 11th of May, 1749, in her 71st year, after having long supported a painful disorder, with a resignation to the divine will, which had been the governing principle of her whole life, and her support under the various trials of it. Her memory and understanding continued unimpaired, 'till within a few days of her death. She was interred near her husband and youngest daughter at Long-Horsley, with this short sentence on their tomb:
Let their works praise them in the gates.Prov. xxxi. 31.
They left only one son, who is clerk of the cheque at Chatham, and two daughters.
Mrs. Cockburn was no less celebrated for her beauty, in her younger days, than for her genius and accomplishments. She was indeed small of stature, but had a remarkable liveliness in her eye, and delicacy of complexion, which continued to her death. Her private character rendered her extremely amiable to those who intimately knew her. Her conversation was always innocent, useful and agreeable, without the least affectation of being thought a wit, and attended with a remarkable modesty and diffidence of herself, and a constant endeavour to adapt her discourse to her company. She was happy in an uncommon evenness and chearfulness of temper. Her disposition was generous and benevolent; and ready upon all occasions to forgive injuries, and bear them, as well as misfortunes, without interrupting her own ease, or that of others, with complaints or reproaches. The pressures of a very contracted fortune were supported by her with calmness and in silence; nor did she ever attempt to improve it among those great personages to whom she was known, by importunities; to which the best minds are most averse, and which her approved merit and established reputation mould have rendered unnecessary.
The collection now exhibited to the world is, says Dr. Birch, and we entirely agree with him, so incontestable a proof of the superiority of our author's genius, as in a manner supersedes every thing that can be said upon that head. But her abilities as a writer, and the merit of her works, will not have full justice done them, without a due attention to the peculiar circumstances, in which they were produced: her early youth, when she wrote some, her very advanced age, and ill state of health, when she drew up others; the uneasy situation of her fortune, during the whole course of her life; and an interval of near twenty years in the vigour of it, spent in the cares of a family, without the least leisure for reading or contemplation: after which, with a mind so long diverted and incumbered, resuming her studies, she instantly recovered its intire powers, and in the hours of relaxation from her domestic employments, pursued, to their utmost limits, some of the deepest enquiries of which the human mind is capable!
CONTENTS of the First Volume of Mrs. COCKBURN'S Works.
I. A Discourse concerning a Guide in Controversy. First published in 1707, with a preface by bishop Burnet.
II. A Defence of Mr. Lock's Essay of Human Understanding. First published in 1702.
III. A Letter to Dr. Holdsworth, concerning the Resurrection of the same Body. First published in 1726.
IV. A Vindication of Mr. Lock's Christian Principles, from the injurious Imputations of Dr. Holdsworth. Now first published.
V. Remarks upon some Writers in the Controversy, concerning theFoundation of Moral Virtue, and Moral Obligation. With some Thoughtsconcerning Necessary Existence; the Reality and Infinity of Space; theExtension and Place of Spirits; and on Dr. Watts's Notion of Substance.First published in 1743.
CONTENTS of the Second Volume.
I. Remarks upon Dr. Rutherforth's Essay on the Nature and Obligations ofVirtue. First published in the year 1747.
II. Miscellaneous Pieces. Now first printed. Containing a Letter of Advice to her Son.—Sunday's Journal.—On the Usefulness of Schools and Universities.—On the Credibility of the Historical Parts of Scripture. —On Moral Virtue.—Notes on Christianity as old as the Creation.—On the Infallibility of the Church of Rome.—Answer to a Question concerning the Jurisdiction of the Magistrate over the Life of the Subject.—Remarks on Mr. Seed's Sermon on Moral Virtue.—Remarks upon an Enquiry into the Origin of Human Appetites and Affections.
III. Letters between Mrs. Cockburn and several of her Friends. These take up the greatest part of the volume.
IV. Letters between the Rev. Dr. Sharp, Archdeacon of Northumberland andMrs. Cockburn concerning the Foundation of Moral Virtue.
V. Fatal Friendship, a Tragedy.
VI. Poems on several Occasions. There are very few of these, and what there are, are of little note. Her poetical talent was the smallest and least valuable of our author's literary accomplishments.
[1] Historia Mulierum Philosopharum. 8vo. Lyons. 1690.
[2] Dr. Birch mentions also Mr. Higgons's verses on this occasion, andgives a copy of a complimentary letter to our author, from Mr.George Farquhar.