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The Poetical Works of James Beattie
Some of the few now offered to the Public would perhaps have been suppressed, if in making this collection I had implicitly followed my own judgment. But in so small a matter, who would refuse to submit his opinion to that of a friend?
It is of no consequence to the reader to know the date of any of these little poems. But some private reasons determined the author to add, that most of them were written many years age, and that the greatest part of the Minstrel, which is his latest attempt in this way, was composed in the year one thousand seven hundred and sixty-eight.
PREFACE TO THE MINSTREL
The design was to trace the progress of a Poetical Genius, born in a rude age, from the first dawning of fancy and reason, till that period at which he may be supposed capable of appearing in the world as a Minstrel, that is, as an itinerant Poet and Musician; – a character which, according to the notions of our forefathers, was not only respectable, but sacred.
I have endeavoured to imitate Spenser in the measure of his verse, and in the harmony, simplicity, and variety of his composition. Antique expressions I have avoided; admitting, however, some old words, where they seemed to suit the subject; but I hope none will be found that are now obsolete, or in any degree not intelligible to a reader of English poetry.
To those who may be disposed to ask, what could induce me to write in so difficult a measure, I can only answer that it pleases my ear, and seems, from its Gothic structure and original, to bear some relation to the subject and spirit of the Poem. It admits both simplicity and magnificence of sound and of language beyond any other stanza that I am acquainted with. It allows the sententiousness of the couplet, as well as the more complex modulation of blank verse. What some critics have remarked, of its uniformity growing at last tiresome to the ear, will be found to hold true, only when the poetry is faulty in other respects.
THE MINSTREL
BOOK I
THE MINSTREL; OR, THE PROGRESS OF GENIUS.
BOOK I
IAh! who can tell how hard it is to climbThe steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar!Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublimeHas felt the influence of malignant star,And waged with Fortune an eternal war;Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown,And Poverty's unconquerable bar,In life's low vale remote has pined alone,Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown!IIAnd yet the languor of inglorious days,Not equally oppressive is to all:Him who ne'er listen'd to the voice of praise,The silence of neglect can ne'er appall.There are, who, deaf to mad Ambition's call,Would shrink to hear the obstreperous trump of Fame;Supremely blest, if to their portion fallHealth, competence, and peace. Nor higher aimHad he, whose simple tale these artless lines proclaim.IIIThe rolls of fame I will not now explore;Nor need I here describe, in learned lay,How forth the Minstrel far'd in days of yore,Right glad of heart, though homely in array;His waving locks and beard all hoary gray;While from his bending shoulder decent hungHis harp, the sole companion of his way,Which to the whistling wind responsive rung:And ever as he went some merry lay he sung.IVFret not thyself, thou glittering child of pride,That a poor villager inspires my strain;With thee let Pageantry and Power abide:The gentle Muses haunt the sylvan reign;Where thro' wild groves at eve the lonely swainEnraptur'd roams, to gaze on Nature's charms:They hate the sensual, and scorn the vain,The parasite their influence never warms,Nor him whose sordid soul the love of gold alarms.VThough richest hues the peacock's plumes adorn,Yet horror screams from his discordant throat.Rise, sons of harmony, and hail the morn,While warbling larks on russet pinions float;Or seek at noon the woodland scene remote,Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
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1
"At his leisure hours he cultivated the muses. A journal kept by him, as well as some specimens of his poetry, are still in the possession of his descendants. This last circumstance is the more worthy of being noticed, as it proves that Dr. Beattie derived his poetical turn from his father." – Bower's Life of Beattie, 1804, p. 2.
2
According to Bower, Beattie was supported at college by the generosity of his brother David, who accompanied him to Aberdeen, when he first quitted Laurencekirk to commence his course at the University. "The peculiar mode of their conveyance to Aberdeen is a matter of very trifling moment. It may not be unacceptable to some, however, to be informed, that they rode on one horse; and at a season of the year not the most agreeable for undertaking a journey (when good roads were unknown in Scotland) of thirty English miles." —Life of Beattie, 1804, p. 17.
3
Life of Homer, Court of Augustus, &c.
4
Bower's Life of Beattie, 1804, p. 89.
5
Ibid. p. 100.
6
Lord Gardenstone was himself a votary of the muses, though his verses are now forgotten. As a satirical poet he is far from contemptible.
7
Robert Arbuthnot, Esq., Secretary to the Board of Trustees for Fisheries, Manufactures, and improvements in Scotland, who resided chiefly at Peterhead, where he carried on business as a merchant; a person of considerable taste and learning. He was nearly related to the famous Dr. Arbuthnot, the friend of Pope and Swift.
8
Sir William Forbes says it "had a rapid sale." Mr. A. Chalmers, however (Poets, vol. xviii. p. 519), doubts if it was ever published for sale, except in Beattie's Poems, 1766, in the Advertisement to which we are told that it "appeared in a separate pamphlet in the beginning of the year 1765." I have been unable to meet with the original edition.
9
I have been told that the poem consisted originally of only four stanzas, and that the two beautiful ones with which it now concludes were added, a considerable time after the others were written, at the request of Mrs. Carnegie, of Charlton, near Montrose. This lady, whose maiden name was Scott, was authoress of a poem called Dunotter Castle, printed in the second edition of Colman and Thornton's Poems by Eminent Ladies.
'Pentland Hills', for which Beattie wrote The Hermit, was an air composed by Mr. Tytler, of Woodhouselee, in imitation of the old Scottish melodies.
10
On one occasion, I have been informed, she took some China jars from the chimney-piece, and carefully arranged them on the top of the parlour door, in order that when Beattie opened it, they might fall upon his head.
11
Beattie's Verses were printed in the Aberdeen Journal, together with an introductory letter in prose also by him, signed "Oliver Oldstile." The writer of the Life of Ross, in that pleasing compilation, Lives of Scottish Poets, 3 vols. 1822, says: "The author of both productions was generally understood to be Dr. Beattie; and they have remained so long ascribed to him without contradiction, that there can be little doubt of their being from his pen." Part iii. p. 107. There is no doubt about the matter; Beattie owns them in a letter to Blacklock. – Forbes's Life of Beattie, vol. i. p. 153. ed. 1807. The Fortunate Shepherdess is a poem of great merit: to the second edition of it (and I believe to all subsequent editions) Beattie's verses are prefixed.
12
Dr. Reid.
13
Dr. Campbell.
14
Mr. Hume, who at an early period had been the patron of Blacklock. Long before the date of this letter they had ceased to have any intercourse.
15
"O how canst thou renounce the boundless storeOf charms which Nature to her votary yields!The warbling woodland, the resounding shore,The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields;All that the genial ray of morning gilds,And all that echoes to the song of even,All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields,And all the dread magnificence of heaven,O, how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven!""I have often wished," says Beattie, in a note on Gray's letter, "to alter this same word [garniture], but have not yet been able to hit upon a better."
16
See p. xv.
17
At a subsequent period, after the king had granted him a pension, he received two offers of church preferment in England – the one from Mr. Pitt, of Dorsetshire, of a living in that county worth £150 per annum, the other from Dr. Thomas, Bishop of Winchester, of a living in Hants, valued at £500 a year – neither of which he would accept. In the letter wherein he declines the second noble offer, he thus expresses himself:
"I wrote the 'Essays on Truth' with the certain prospect of raising many enemies, with very faint hopes of attracting the public attention, and without any views of advancing my fortune. I published it, however, because I thought it might probably do a little good, by bringing to nought, or, at least, lessening the reputation of that wretched system of sceptical philosophy, which had made a most alarming progress, and done incredible mischief to this country. My enemies have been at great pains to represent my views, in that publication, as very different: and that my principal, or only motive was to make a book, and, if possible, to raise myself higher in the world. So that, if I were now to accept preferment in the church, I should be apprehensive that I might strengthen the hands of the gainsayer, and give the world some ground to believe that my love of truth was not quite so ardent, or so pure, as I had pretended.
"Besides, might it not have the appearance of levity and insincerity, and, by some, be construed into a want of principle, if I were, at these years (for I am now thirty-eight), to make such an important change in my way of life, and to quit, with no other apparent motive than that of bettering my circumstances, that church of which I have hitherto been a member? If my book has any tendency to do good, as I flatter myself it has, I would not, for the wealth of the Indies, do any thing to counteract that tendency; and I am afraid that tendency might, in some measure be counteracted (at least in this country) if I were to give the adversary the least ground to charge me with inconsistency. It is true, that the force of my reasonings cannot be really affected by my character; truth is truth, whoever be the speaker; but even truth itself becomes less respectable, when spoken, or supposed to be spoken, by insincere lips.
"It has also been hinted to me, by several persons of very sound judgment, that what I have written, or may hereafter write in favour of religion, has a chance of being more attended to, if I continue a layman, than if I were to become a clergyman. Nor am I without apprehensions (though some of my friends think them ill founded) that, from entering so late in life, and from so remote a province, into the Church of England, some degree of ungracefulness, particularly in pronunciation, might adhere to my performances in public, sufficient to render them less pleasing, and consequently less useful."
18
So Beattie names the figures in one of his letters; but Sir William Forbes tells us they are supposed to mean Sophistry, Scepticism, and Infidelity. The worthy Baronet proceeds to observe:
"Because one of these was a lean figure and the [an] other a fat one, people of lively imaginations pleased themselves with finding in them the portraits of Voltaire and Mr. Hume. But Sir Joshua, I have reason to believe, had no such thought when he painted those figures."
Surely Sir William had never read all the letters which he printed in his Life of Beattie, for in vol. ii. p. 42, octavo ed., we find the great painter writing to our poet as follows, in February, 1774:
"Mr. Hume has heard from somebody that he is introduced in the picture, not much to his credit; there is only a figure, covering his face with his hands, which they may call Hume or any body else; it is true it has a tolerable broad back. As for Voltaire, I intended he should be one of the group."
This fine picture is now at Aberdeen, in the possession of Beattie's niece, Mrs. Glennie.
19
When Beattie was in London, in 1773, and when it was doubtful whether government would ever make any provision for him, his friends there set on foot a subscription for this work. "It was a thing," says he, in a letter to Lady Mayne, January, 1774, "of a private nature entirely; projected not by me, but by some of my friends, who had condescended to charge themselves with the whole trouble of it: it was never meant to be made public, nor put into the hands of booksellers, nor carried on by solicitation, but was to be considered as a voluntary mark of the approbation of some persons of rank and fortune, who wished it to be known that they patronized me on account of what I had written in defence of truth," &c. Prefixed to the volume is a list of nearly five hundred subscribers, among whom are many distinguished characters in church and state.
20
A spurious edition of his Juvenile Poems, with some which he never wrote, from Dodsley's Collection, was put forth in 1780. This volume he disowned in a public advertisement.
21
Perhaps it was not printed till the beginning of the following year. In a letter to Beattie, dated Feb. 1st, 1779, Mrs. Montagu says, "I was much pleased with your pamphlet on Psalmody."
22
He was born in 1768, and was named after James Hay, Earl of Errol, our author's early patron.
23
Writing from Edinburgh, 28th May, 1784, to his niece, Miss Valentine (now Mrs. Glennie), Beattie describes the sensation caused in that city by the performances of Mrs. Siddons. He says that he met her at the house of Lord Buchan; that he played to her many Scotch airs on the violoncello, with which she was much gratified; and that "she sung 'Queen Mary's Complaint' to admiration, and I had the honour to accompany her on the bass." – Forbes's Life of Beattie, vol. ii. p. 324, octavo ed.
I am informed, by the incomparable actress in question, that the quotation just given contains an utter falsehood, which, when Forbes's Life of our author first appeared, in 1806, she read with astonishment. She remembers perfectly having been introduced to Beattie at Lord Buchan's, but she is quite certain she did not sing either Queen Mary's Complaint or any other song; and she observes, that if she had sung to his accompaniment, the circumstance would have been so striking that it could not possibly have escaped her recollection.
Qy. Has Beattie's letter been mutilated, the person who transcribed it for the press having by mistake omitted some lines? and do the words "she sung," in the concluding sentence, refer to some other more musical lady, and not to Mrs. Siddons?
24
He was so named after Mrs. Montagu. From one of Beattie's letters, dated 1789, it appears that she had made a handsome present of money to her godson.
25
I possess a copy of it which bears the following inscription:
"To William Hayley, Esq.,in testimony of the utmost respect,esteem, and gratitude, from J. Beattie1st January, 1796."On one of its fly-leaves the ever-ready pen of Hayley has written the subjoined sonnet:
TO DOCTOR BEATTIE, IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT OFHIS VERY INTERESTING PRESENT"Bard of the North! I thank thee with my tearsFor this fond work of thy paternal hand:It bids the buried youth before me standIn nature's softest light, which love endears.Parents like thee, whose grief the world reveres,Faithful to pure affection's proud command,For a lost child have lasting honours plann'd,To give in fame what fate denied in years.The filial form of Icarus was wroughtBy his afflicted sire, the sire of art!And Tullia's fane engross'd her father's heart:That fane rose only in perturbed thought;But sweet perfection crowns, as truth begun,This Christian image of thy happier son."26
It was afterwards published for sale in 1799. I extract from it a jeu d'esprit – one of those pieces which Beattie printed, in opposition to the advice of Sir William Forbes and some other grave friends.
THE MODERN TIPPLING PHILOSOPHERSFather Hodge96 had his pipe and his dram,And at night, his cloy'd thirst to awaken,He was served with a rasher of ham,Which procured him the surname of Bacon.He has shown that, though logical scienceAnd dry theory oft prove unhandy,Honest Truth will ne'er set at defianceExperiment, aided by brandy.Des Cartes bore a musket, they tell us,Ere he wished, or was able, to write,And was noted among the brave fellows,Who are bolder to tipple than fight.Of his system the cause and designWe no more can be pos'd to explain: —The materia subtilis was wine,And the vortices whirl'd in his brain.Old Hobbes, as his name plainly shows,At a hob-nob was frequently tried:That all virtue from selfishness roseHe believ'd, and all laughter from pride.97The truth of his creed he would brag on,Smoke his pipe, murder Homer,98 and quaff,Then staring, as drunk as a dragon,In the pride of his heart he would laugh.Sir Isaac discover'd, it seems,The nature of colors and light,In remarking the tremulous beamsThat swom on his wandering sight.Ever sapient, sober though seldom,From experience attraction he found,By observing, when no one upheld him,That his wise head fell souse on the ground.As to Berkley's philosophy – he hasLeft his poor pupils nought to inherit,But a swarm of deceitful ideasKept like other monsters, in spirit.99Tar-drinkers can't think what's the matter,That their health does not mend, but decline:Why, they take but some wine to their water,He took but some water to wine.One Mandeville once, or Man-devil,(Either name you may give as you please)By a brain ever brooding on evil,Hatch'd a monster call'd Fable of Bees,Vice, said he, aggrandizes a people;100By this light let my conduct be view'd;I swagger, swear, guzzle, and tipple:And d – ye, 'tis all for your good.David Hume ate a swinging great dinner,And grew every day fatter and fatter;And yet the huge hulk of a sinnerSaid there was neither spirit nor matter.Now there's no sober man in the nation,Who such nonsense could write, speak, or think:It follows, by fair demonstration,That he philosophiz'd in his drink.As a smuggler, even Priestley could sin;Who, in hopes the poor gauger of frightening,While he fill'd the case-bottles with gin,Swore he fill'd them with thunder and lightning.101In his cups, (when Locke's laid on the shelf),Could he speak, he would frankly confess t' ye,That unable to manage himself,He puts his whole trust in Necessity.If the young in rash folly engage,How closely continues the evil!Old Franklin retains, as a sage,The thirst he acquired when a devil.102That charging drives fire from a phial,It was natural for him to think,After finding, from many a trial,That drought may be kindled by drink.A certain high priest could explain,103How the soul is but nerve at the most;And how Milton had glands in his brain,That secreted the Paradise Lost.And sure it is what they deserve,Of such theories if I aver it,They are not even dictates of nerve,But mere muddy suggestions of claret.Our Holland Philosophers say, GinIs the true philosophical drink,As it made Doctor Hartley imagineThat to shake is the same as to think.104For, while drunkenness throbb'd in his brain,The sturdy materialist chose (O fye!)To believe its vibrations not pain,But wisdom, and downright philosophy.Ye sages, who shine in my verse,On my labours with gratitude think,Which condemn not the faults they rehearse,But impute all your sin to your drink.In drink, poets, philosophers, mob, err;Then excuse if my satire e'er nips ye:When I praise, think me prudent and sober,If I blame, be assur'd I am tipsy.27
"I have been assured by those who were intimately acquainted with both, that of the two brothers, Montagu was in many respects the superior."
Bower's Life of Beattie, 1804, p. 210.28
James Hay Beattie had a scientific knowledge of music, and, with the assistance of the Rev. Dr. Laing, had superintended the building an organ for himself. In one of our author's letters, 8th June, 1791, is the following passage:
"The organ of Durham cathedral was too much for my feelings; for it brought too powerfully to my remembrance another organ, much smaller, indeed, but more interesting, which I can never hear any more."
29
See, too, Beattie's letter to Blacklock, p. xv. of this memoir.
30
Thy shades, thy silence now be mine,Thy charms my only theme;My haunt the hollow cliff, whose pineWaves o'er the gloomy stream:Whence the scar'd owl on pinions grayBreaks from the rustling boughs,And down the lone vale sails awayTo more profound repose.96
Roger Bacon, the father of experimental philosophy. He flourished in the thirteenth century.
97
See The Spectator, No. 47.
98
Hobbes was a great smoker, and wrote what some have been pleased to call a Translation of Homer.
99
He taught that the external universe has no existence, but an ideal one, in the mind (or spirit) that perceives it; and he thought tar-water a universal remedy.
100
Private vices public benefits.
101
Electrical batteries.
102
Bred a printer. This was written long before Dr. Franklin's death.
103
Dr. L., Bp. of C., is probably the person here alluded to. He was a zealous materialist.
104
He resolved Perception and Thinking into vibrations, and (what he called) vibratiuncles of the brain.
