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Having purchased an annuity of four hundred pounds, he now certainly hoped to pass some years of life in plenty and tranquillity ; but his hope deceived him : he was struck with a palsy, and died June 18, 1749, in his seventy-eighth year.
Of his personal character all that I have heard is, that he was eminent for bravery and skill in the sword, and that in conversation he was folemn and pompous. He had great sensibility of censure, if judgement may be made by a single story which I heard long ago from Mr. Ing, a gentleman of great eminence in Staffordshire. “ Philips,” said he, “ was once at
table, when I asked him, How came thy king of
Epirus to drive oxen, and to say I'm goaded on by “ love? After which question he never spoke again.'
Of the Distres Mother not much is pretended to be his own, and therefore it is no subject of criticism : his other two tragedies, I believe, are not below mediocrity, nor above it. Among the Poems comprised in the late collection, the Letter from Denmark may be justly praised; the Pastorals, which by the writer of the Guardian were ranked as one of the four genuine productions of the rustick Niuse, cannot surely be despicable. That they exhibit a mode of life which does not exist, nor ever existed, is not to be objected; the supposition of such a state is allowed to Pastoral. In his other poems he cannot be denied the praise of lines sometimes elegant; but he has feldon much force, or much comprehension. The pieces that pleate best are those which, from Pope and Pope's adherens, procured him the name of Namby Pamoy, the p01 of short lines, by which he paid his court to all ages and characters, from Walpole the scerer of the reality
to miss Pulteney in the nursery. The numbers are smooth and spritely, and the diction is seldom faulty. They are not loaded with much thought, yet if they had been written by Addison they would have had admirers : little things are not valued but when they are done by those who cannot do greater.
In his translations from Pindar he found the art of reaching all the obscurity of the Theban bard, however he may fall below his sublimity; he will be allowed, if he has less fire, to have more smoke.
He has added nothing to English poetry, yet at least half his book deserves to be read ; perhaps he valued most himself that part which the criticha would reject.
W E S T.
ILBERT WEST is one of the writers of
whom I regret my inability to give a fufficient account; the intelligence which my enquiries have obtained is general and scanty.
He was the son of the reverend Dr. West; perhaps him who published Pindar at Oxford about the beginning of this century. His mother was sister to Sir Richard Temple, afterwards lord Cobham. His father, purposing to educate him for the Church, fent him first to Eton, and afterwards to Oxford; but he was seduced to a more airy mode of life, by a commission in a troop of horse procured him by his uncle.
He continued some time in the army; though it is reasonable to suppose that he never funk into a mere soldier, nor ever lost the love or much neglected the pursuit of learning; and afterwards, finding himself more inclined to civil einployment, he laid down his commission, and engaged in business under the lord Townshend, then secretary of state, with whom he attended the king to Hanover. 04
His adherence to lord Townshend ended in nothing but a nomination (May 1729) to be clerk-extraordinary of the Privy Council, which produced no immediate profit; for it only placed him in a state of expectation and right of succession, and it was very long before a vacancy admitted him to profit. .
Soon afterwards he married, and settled himself in a very pleasant house at Wickham in Kent, where he devoted himself to learning, and to piety. Of his learning the late Collection exhibits evidence, which would have been yet fuller if the dissertations which accompany his version of Pindar had not been improperly omitted. Of his piety the influence has, I hope, been extended far by his Observations on the Refurrection, published in 1747, for which the University of Oxford created him a Doctor of Laws by diploma (March 30, 1748), and would doubtless have reached yet further had he lived to complete what he had for some time meditated, the Evidences of the truth of the New Testament. Perhaps it may not be without effect to tell, that he read the prayers of the publick liturgy every morning to his family, and that on Sunday evening he called his servants into the parlour, and read to them first a fermon, and then prayers. Crashaw is now not the only maker of verses to whom may be given the two venerable names of Poet and Saint.
He was very often visited by Lyttelton and Pitt, who, when they were weary of faction and debates, used at Wickham to find books and quiet, a decent table, and literary conversation. There is at Wickhain a walk made by Pitt; and, what is of far more
importance, at Wickham Lyttelton received that conviction which produced his Dissertation on St. Paul.
These two illustrious friends had for a while listened to the blandishments of infidelity, and when West's book was published, it was bought by some who did not know his change of opinion, in expectation of new objections against Christianity; and as infidels do not want malignity, they revenged the disappointment by calling him a methodist.
Mr. West's income was not large ; and his friends endeavoured, but without success, to obtain an augmentation. It is reported, that the education of the young prince was offered to him, but that he required a more extensive power of superintendence than it was thought proper to allow him.
In time, however, his revenue was improved ; he lived to have one of the lucrative clerkships of the Privy Council (1752); and Mr. Pitt at last had it in his power to make him treasurer of Chelsea Hofpital.
He was now sufficiently rich; but wealth camne too late to be long enjoyed : nor could it secure him from the calamities of life; he loft (1755) his only fon; and the year after (March 26) a stroke of the palsy brought to the grave one of the few
poets to whom the grave might be without its terrors.
Of his translations I have only compared the first Olympick Ode with the original, and found my expectation surpassed, both by its elegance and its exactness. He does not confine himself to his author's train of stanzas ; for he saw that the difference of the languages required a different mode of versification. The first strophe is eminently happy; in the second