I. BIOGRAPHICAL.
As in other instances, the first thing to be done in any Life of our
present Worthy, is to distinguish him from other two contemporary Sir
John Davieses—non-attention to which has in many biographical and
bibliographical works led to no little confusion. There was
I. Sir John Davis (or Davys or Davies) of Pangbourne, Berkshire,
who 'sleeps well' under a chalk-stone monument in the parish church
there. He was mixed up with the 'Plots' (alleged and semi-real),
of the Elizabethan-Essex period. Many of his Letters—various very
long and matterful and pathetic—are preserved at Hatfield among the
Cecil-Salisbury MSS. The Blue-Book report of the "Royal Commission on
Historical Manuscripts" (3rd, 1872), makes a strange jumble of our Sir
John and this Sir John's Letters (see Index, s. n.). He was Master
of the Ordnance 31st January, 1598, and was knighted at Dublin 12th
July, 1599. His Will is dated 6th April, 1625, and it was proved at
London ... May, 1626. Our Sir John was appointed one of his executors.
Arms: Sable, a griffin, segt., or. He is supposed to have been of
Shropshire descent.
II. Sir John Davies (or Davys or Davis) Knight-Marshal of Connaught and
Thomond: temp. Elizabeth. He had large grants of lands in Roscommon.
He is now represented by the family of Clonshanville (or Loyle) in
Roscommon, who are of Shropshire descent (see Archdall's Peerage of
Ireland.) His Will is dated 14th February, 1625. He died 13th April,
1626. His Will was not proved (at Dublin) until 17th November, 1628.
Arms: Sable, on a chevron, argent, three trefoils slipped, vert.:
crest; a dragon's head erased, vert.
According to Mr. J. Payne Collier, the following entry is found in the
register of S. Mary, Aldermanbury: "Buried Sir John Davyes, Knight, May
28, 1624." (Bibliographical Account of Early English Literature, i.,
193). If there be no mistake here, we have another contemporary Sir
John Davies. Certainly it was not ours, and as certainly neither of the
two preceding.[1]
The spelling of the family name, which is now Davies, varies very much.
I have found it as Dyve, Dayves, Davyes, Dauis, Davis, and Davies.
Usually our Worthy signs 'Dauyes;' but in his books changes, e.g., in
'Nosce Teipsum' of 1599, to the verse-dedication to Elizabeth, it is
'Dauies;' in 1602 'Dauys,' and in 1608 'Davis,' and so diversely in his
Prose.
Among the Carte Papers in the Bodleian are rough jottings by the
Historian for a Memoir of our Sir John Davies, wherein it is stated
that the family came originally from South Wales to Tisbury, Wiltshire.
The words are: "His family had continued several generations in ye
place, though descended from a family of that name in South Wales: but
planted heere in England Temp. Hen. 7: accompanying at that time ye
Earle of Pembrooke out of Wales.[2]
The 'estate' of the Davieses at Tisbury was named Chicksgrove
(sometimes spelled Chisgrove.) Only a small fragment of the Manor-house
remains "unto this day." The Tisbury parish registers, however, yield
abundant entries of the family-names under the wonted three-fold
'Baptisms,' 'Marriages,' 'Burials;' and the church itself, in tablets
and communion plate, and other memorials, possesses various evidences
of their influential position for many generations, and in many lines
of descent and local intermarriage. It must suffice here briefly to
summarize the Pedigree, and to extract the entries immediately bearing
on our present Life.
Confirming the Carte statement of a Welsh descent, one John Davys, of
... wyn, in Shropshire, temp. Henry VIII., recorded by Carney (1606) in
the Visitation of Dublin in Ulster Office, and according to Chalmers
settled at Tisbury, temp. Edward VI., came from Wales with the Earl
of Pembroke, and was living in 1517 and 1541.[3] This John Davys
married Matilda, daughter of ... Bridemore, who was buried as "Maud,
Master Davys widow, 18 May, 1570." There was a numerous family of sons
and daughters from this union.[4] We have only now to do with their
eighth, and youngest son, John, who was living in 1517 and 1541.[5]
He was of 'New Inn,' London; and thus, like his more famous son, was
brought up to the study of the Law. This will appear authoritatively
onward; but at this point it is needful to correct and explain a
long-continued error, originated by Anthony à-Wood
"Athenæ," by Dr. Bliss, Vol. ii., p. 400) apparently, viz. that the
father was "a wealthy tanner," and so Sir John, of "low extraction,"
etc., etc. I do not know that there should have been reason for shame
had the paternal Davies been a 'tanner,' wealthy or otherwise, if
otherwise he was that Christian gentleman which all reports represent.
But the matter-of-fact is that through the premature deaths of his
elder brothers, John Davyes, of Chisgrove, seems to have inherited the
family possessions and wealth, and to have been in the front rank of
the country gentry. The explanation of the mistake as to his having
been a 'tanner,' is unexpectedly found in the Will of Thomas Bennett,
brother (as we shall see) of Sir John Davies' mother. Among other
things he leaves "a certain mess, or tent, in West Hatch now (1591)
in the use of Edward Scannell, and all lands thereto belonging, [to]
be held by John Bennett my son, Thomas Rose and Nicholas Graye as
trustees to my own use for life, and after my decease to the use and
behoof" of various relatives, of whom one is described as "Edward Davys
of Tyssebury, tanner." This Edward Davys, tanner, was no doubt of the
Chisgrove family; and hence the confusion. In all probability he was
one of the younger sons, and so brother of our Sir John. When he came
to make his Will (now before me), though engaged in trade, he asserts
his gentility by styling himself 'gentleman.' So much in correction of
a second important biographical mistake.
John Davyes, of Chisgrove, was married to Mary, daughter of John
Bennett (alias Pitt) of Pitt House, Wilts., (Visitation of Wilts.,
1563) by Agnes his wife, daughter of ........ Toppe, of Fenny Sutton,
in Wilts. Hoare[6] and others, give ample proof of the almost lordly
position of the Bennetts. Woolrych observes (1869) "The Bennetts of
Pyt, have been well known in our own time. The struggles of Bennet
and Astley for the representation of the county are remembered as
severe and costly."[7] Thus if Davyes of Chisgrove was of good blood
in the county, he certainly advanced himself when he wooed and won
a daughter of the house of Bennett (or Benett). They had at least
three sons. The first was Matthew, who became D.D., Vicar of Writtle,
Essex. Hoare (as before) calls him second son, and states that he died
unmarried. Both are inaccuracies. The Tisbury Register shews that
he was the eldest not the second son; and the Will of our Sir John
remembers his family.[8] The second son was (probably) the Edward who
became a "tanner." He was baptized at Tisbury 6th December, 1566. He
too is named in our Sir John's Will. The third was the subject of our
Memorial-Introduction. The following is his baptismal entry from (a)
the paper or scroll-copy, (b) the parchment or extended register of
Tisbury—literatim:
(a) Paper MS.: 1569 Aprill xvj. John the sonne of John Dauy was
crysten'd.
(b) Parchment MS.: Anno dni 1569 Aprill 16 John the sonne of John
Davis bapt.[9]
There were two sisters, Edith and Maria. Master John was in his 11th
year only when he lost his father, who died in 1580. The Carte MS.
"Notes" (as before) tell us: "his father dyed when hee was very young
and left him with his 2 brothers to his mother to bee educated. She
therefore brought them vpp all to learning." The same "Notes" state
"yt Iohn off whom we now write, being designed for a lawyer,
neglected his learning, butt being first a scholar in Winchester
Colledge, was afterwards removed to New Colledge in Oxford." According
to Chalmers (History of Oxford: I. p. 105) he became in Michaelmas term
1585, a Commoner of Queen's College, Oxford. From thence he removed
in 1587 (not 1588 as usually stated e.g. by Wood to George Chalmers
and Woolrych). The Admission Register of the Middle Temple contains
his entry, and it is interesting additionally as establishing that his
father was of the New Inn, London, and so of the legal profession:
f. 193 D.
Teio Die februarij Ao 1587:
Mr Iohes Davius filius tertius Johis Davis de Tisburie in Com Wiltes
gen de nov hospitio gen admissus est in societate medij Templi et
obligatr vna m ' mr is Lewes et Raynolde et dat p fine—xxs.[10]
This 'entry' renders null all speculations as to whether by 'New
Inn' were not intended 'New Hall' Oxford, &c. &c.; and it is a third
correction of important biographical errors hitherto.
It is to be regretted that other Records of New Inn commence only with
the year 1674. So that we are without light on the residence in the
Middle Temple.
In 1590 the saddest of all human losses came on the young law-student
by the death of his mother, who was buried at Tisbury "XXVth
of Marche, 1590." In this year he is again at the University of
Oxford; for in the "Fasti" (by Bliss, Vol. ii., p. 250) he is entered
under 1590 as taking the degree of Bachelor of Arts. I fear that with
the death of his lady-mother there ensued a full plunge into the
frivolities and gaities of the University and Inns of Court society.
It was a 'fast' period; and while his after-books prove conclusively
that he must have studied Law widely and laboriously, there can be
little doubt that there were outbursts of youthful extravagance and
self-indulgence. None the less is it equally certain—rather is in
harmony therewith—that very early he mingled with the poets and wits
of the day. There is not a tittle of evidence warranting the ascription
of "Sir Martin Mar People his Coller of Esses Workmanly wrought by
Maister Simon Soothsaier, Goldsmith of London, and offered to sale upon
great necessity by John Davies. Imprinted at London by Richard Ihones.
1590 (4to),"[11] to him; nor can any one really study "O Vtinam 1
For Queene Elizabeths securitie, 2 For hir Subiects prosperitie, 3
For a general conformitie, 4 And for Englands tranquilitie. Printed
at London, by R. Yardley and P. Short, for Iohn Pennie, dwelling in
Pater noster row, at the Grey hound. 1591 (16mo),"[12] and for a
moment concede his hastily alleged authorship. But in 1593 his poem of
"Orchestra, or a Poeme of Dauncing," was "licensed to Iohn Harison" the
elder. No earlier edition than that of 1596 has been proved; but the
"license" assures us that Harrison had negotiated for its publication
in 1593. The title-page of the 1596 edition is followed by a dedicatory
sonnet "To his very friend, Ma. Rich. Martin." The Reader may turn
to it "an' it please" him (Vol. I. p. 159): and "thereby hangs a
tale." The dedicatory sonnet, it will be seen, while characterizing
"Orchestra" as "this dauncing Poem," this "suddaine, rash, half-capreol
of my wit," informs us that his "very friend" Martin was the "first
mouer and sole cause of it, and that he was the Poet's "owne selues
better halfe," and "deerest friend." We have the time employed on it
too:—
"You know the modest Sunne full fifteene times
Blushing did rise, and blushing did descend,
While I in making of these ill made rimes,
My golden howers unthriftily did spend:
Yet, if in friendship you these numbers prayse,
I will mispend another fifteene dayes."
All this receives tragi-comical illumination from the fact that this
same "very friend" and "better halfe," and he who so sang of him, had
soon a deadly quarrel and estrangement. Richard Martin became
Recorder of London, and one memorial of him is a Speech to the King
which, if it partakes of the oddities of Euphues, must also be allowed
to contain weighty and bravely-outspoken counsel: and thus he has come
down to posterity as a grave and potent seignior. Moreover, he became
Reader of his Society, and M.P. for first Barnstaple, and later for
Cirencester. He appears, too, as the associate of Ben Jonson, John
Selden, and others of the foremost.[13]
But as a youthful law-student he was 'wild.' He fell under the lash of
the Benchers, having been expelled from the Middle Temple in February,
1591, for the part he took in a riot at the prohibited festival of the
Lord of Misrule. He was fast of tongue and ribald of wit, with a dash
of provocative sarcasm. Evidently he was one of those men who would
rather (as the saying puts it) lose his friend than his joke (however
poor the joke and rich the friend). A consideration of the whole facts
seems to show that again restored to the Middle Temple he had let loose
his probably wine-charged sarcasms at his friend Davies. Whether it
was so or not, he was ignobly punished. For against all "good manners"
not to speak of the "law" and discipline of the Court, Master Davies
came into the Hall with his hat on, armed with a dagger, and attended
by two persons with swords. Master Martin was seated at dinner at the
Barristers' Table. Davies pulling a bastinado or cudgel from under his
gown, went up to his insulter and struck him repeatedly over the head.
The chastisement must have been given with a will; for the bastinado
was shivered to pieces—arguing either its softness or the head's
asinine thickness. Having "avenged" himself, Davies returned to the
bottom of the Hall, drew one of the swords belonging to his attendants,
and flourished it repeatedly over his head, turning his face towards
Martin, and then hurrying down the water-steps of the Temple, threw
himself into a boat.[14] This extraordinary occurrence happened at the
close of 1597 or January of 1598. In 1595 he had been called to the
bar; but in February 1598 Davies was expelled by a unanimous sentence;
"disbarred" and deprived for ever of all authority to speak or consult
in law.[15] These "outbreaks" and expulsions were familiar incidents;
and make us exclaim with Othello: "O thou invisible spirit of wine, if
thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil"—"O God, that
men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!
that we should with joy, pleasure, revel and applause, transform
ourselves into beasts" (ii. 3). This is the all-too-plain solution
of these "high jinks." It was a disaster of the most ominous kind.
Nevertheless the dark cloud that thus fell across the noon of the
full-and-hot-blooded young Barrister folded in it a "bright light:"
or—if we may fetch an illustration from Holy Scripture, as Moses the
great Lawgiver of ancient Israel through the slaying of the Egyptian
was compelled to be a fugitive in the wilderness and therein to master
his native impulsiveness and passion, so was the "offender" in the
Hall of the Middle Temple through the disgrace and penalties incurred
forced into retirement and introspection. It was a costly price to
pay. But it is to be doubted whether if the enforced return to Oxford
and the self-scrutiny and penitence that calm reflection wrought there
had not arrested him, he ever would have given our literature "Nosce
Teipsum." His great poem bears witness to very poignant self-accusation
and humiliation. Towards the close you seem to catch the echo of sobs
and the glistening of tears; nor is it "preaching" to recognize a
diviner element still—his unrest and burden alike laid on Him Who
alone can sustain and help a "wounded spirit" in its trouble. Besides
the hazardous as disastrous incident with Martin, his "Epigrams"
by their abandon and general allusiveness reveal that he was the
associate of the "young gallants" of the city and lived "fast"; and so
give significance and interpretation to his later passionate regrets,
self-accusations and self-rebuke. How abased and yet in touches how
noble is this!
"O ignorant poor man! what dost thou beare
Lockt vp within the casket of thy brest?
What iewels and what riches hast thou there!
What heauenly treasure in so weake a chest!
Looke in thy soule, and thou shalt beauties find,
Like those which drownd Narcissus in the flood:
Honour and Pleasure both are in thy mind,
And all that in the world is counted good.
Thinke of her worth, and think that God did meane,
This worthy mind should worthy things imbrace;
Blast not her beauties with thy thoughts vnclean,
Nor her dishonour with thy passions base:
Kill not her quickning powers with surfettings,
Mar not her sense with sensualitie;
Cast not her serious wit on idle things:
Make not her free-will, slaue to vanitie.
And when thou think'st of her eternitie,
Thinke not that death against her nature is,
Thinke it a birth; and when thou goest to die,
Sing like a swan, as if thou went'st to blisse.
Take heed of over-weening, and compare
Thy peacock's feet with thy gay peacock's traine;
Study the best and highest things that are,
But of thyselfe an humble thought retaine."[16]
"Expelled" and "disbarred," he retired to Oxford and there "followed
his studies, although he wore a cloak." (Wood's Athenæ, as before,
ii. 401). To lighten severer studies he now leisurely composed that
"Nosce Teipsum" from which has just been quoted the remarkable close.
His vein must have been a "flowing" one; for it was published within
a year of his disgrace, viz. in 1599.[17] It was dedicated to the
"great Queen;" without the all-too-common contemporary hyperbole of
laudation, yet showing the strange magnetism of her influence to win
allegiance from the greatest, even in her old age:—
"Loadstone to hearts and loadstone to all eyes."
The Carte "Notes" (as before) thus tell the whole story and ratify
Anthony-a-Wood:—"Vpon a quarrell between him and Mr. Martin before
ye Judges, where he strooke Mr. Martin hee was confined and made a
prisoner: after wch in discontentment he retired to ye countrye,
and writt yt excellent poeme of his Nosce Teipsum, wch was so
well aprooved of by the Lord Mountioy after Lord Deputy of Ireland and
Earle of Devonshire, that by his aduise he publisht it and dedicated
it to Queen Elizabeth, to whom hee presented it, being introduced by
ye aforesaide Lord his pattron, and ye first essay of his pen
was so well relisht yt ye Queen encouraged him in his studdys,
promising him preferment, and had him sworn her servant in ordinary."
"Nosce Teipsum" was not his "first essay" so that perchance the meaning
is that its verse-dedication was his "first essay" in addressing the
Queen—his second being the Hymns to Astræa. The "Hymns to Astræa"
appeared in quick succession to "Nosce Teipsum" in the same year 1599.
They are dainty trifles; but from all we know of Elizabeth would be
received as "sweet incense." If they seem to us to-day flattering not
to say adulatory, it must be remembered that such was the mode. Much
later, Epistles-dedicatory from Bacon and others of the mighties,
and not to Elizabeth but to James—are infinitely fulsome compared
with the ideal praises of an ideal Elizabeth—that Elizabeth who had
stirred the nation's pulses through her great patriotic words when
"The Armada" threatened—in the most superlative of these "Hymnes."
Their workmanship is as of diamond-facets. The "bright light" of
olden promise was now "lining" the dark cloud. The discipline of
his retirement to Oxford did him life-long good. Speedily outward
events dove-tailed with the deepened ethical experience and resultant
character.
For despair and disgrace there came hope and help. For a career
that seemed arrested, a higher, and wider, and nobler opened out in
inspiriting perspective. In 1599-1600 he was in all men's mouths as a
Poet. The "Poetical Rhapsody" of Davison of these years would have been
rendered incomplete without contributions from "I. D.;" and so there
went to it those Minor Poems, that are read still with pleasure. So
early as 1595 George Chapman had printed his "Ovid's Banquet of Sence,"
with lines from "I. D." More important still, "Secretary Cecil" became
his friend and patron. "By desire" he prepared certain dialogues and
scenes for entertainments to the Queen. Three of these remain. The
first is "A Dialogue between a Gentleman Usher and a Poet."[18] The
second is "A Contention betwixt a Wife, a Widdow, and a Maide."[19]
The third is "A Lottery: presented (as the heading states) before
the late Queene's Maiesty at the Lord Chancelor's House, 1601."[20]
These indicate that the recluse of Oxford was once more restored to
society, and that the supremest. The favour of the aged Queen was
capricious; but the "Lottery" that formed part of the entertainment
at the Lord Chancellor's marked the turning of the tide, in flood not
ebb. Through Ellesmere steps were taken to cancel the "expulsion" and
"disbarring." He addressed a respectful and manly Petition to "his
Society." It was considered at a "Parliament of the Society, held on
the 30th October 1601." He had "presented" it in Trinity Term; but it
was adjourned until now. In the interval he had attended "the Commons"
and in November after making the admission and satisfaction required by
four Benches, it was unanimously agreed that he should be "restored to
his position at the bar and his seniority." He publicly pronounced his
"repentance" in due form on the feast of All Saints. This was done in
the Hall in the presence of Chief Iustice Popham, Chief Baron Periam,
Judge Fenner, Baron Savil, Sergeant Harris, Sergeant Williams, and the
Masters of the Bench." The legal or ceremonial part being completed,
and the Apology read in English, Davies turned to "Mr. Martin," then
present, and as he could offer no sufficient satisfaction to him,
entreated his forgiveness, promising sincere love and affection in all
good offices towards him for the future." "Mr. Martin" accepted the
tender thus made, and the re-instatement was completed.[21] That the
reconciliation between Davies and Martin was formal rather than real
has been too hastily assumed. True, that when in 1622 Davies collected
his Poems, the Sonnet to Martin was withdrawn and a hiatus left
towards the close of "Orchestra." But both these things are otherwise
explainable. Both Elizabeth and Martin were now dead—the latter in
1618. Besides, it was only natural that the living friend should be
willing to remove all memory of the quarrel. The name should only
have revived it. This, and not a many-yeared carrying of an unclosed
wound is my judgment in charity. The restored 'Barrister' never forgot
his indebtedness to the Lord Chancellor. His dedication of his great
"Reports" of Irish Law Cases and their correspondence remain to attest
this—remain too to attest the reciprocal admiration, if a tenderer
word were not fitter, of Ellesmere.[22] His words in the 'Reports'
dedication are more than respectful.
It would appear from the MS. dedication of a corrected MS. of "Nosce
Teipsum" to "the right noble, valorous, and learned Prince Henry, Earle
of Northumberland" that he must have joined in the intercession for
restoration, e.g.
"Then to what spirit shall I these noates commend,
But unto that which doth them best expresse;
Who will to them more kind protection lend,
Than Hee which did protect me in distresse."[23]
Contemporaneous with his full Restoration to his privileges at the
Bar, the student-lawyer—through influence that has not come down to
us—found his way into Parliament as M.P. for Corfe Castle. The House
'sat' for "barely two months"—October 27th to December 29th" (1601).
It was the last Parliament of Elizabeth. The records of it are meagre
and unsatisfying, but sufficient is preserved to inform us that untried
and inexperienced in Parliament as he was, the member for Corfe Castle
at once came to the front. A long-continued warfare on the part of
the Commons against monopolies found in him a vehement defender of
the privileges of the House. The wary Queen, who always knew when to
give way, withdrew certain "patents" that had been granted and led to
grievous abuses; and Davies was appointed one of the "Grand Committee"
to thank her Majesty[24]. He had spoken stoutly for procedure by "bill"
and not by "petition." Richard Martin supported the monopolies.
In 1602 a second edition "newly corrected and amended" of "Nosce
Teipsum" appeared. Still prefixed to it—and to his honour continued in
the third edition of 1608 when she was gone—was the verse-dedication
to the Queen. But it was now "the beginning of the end" with her.
Somewhat cloudily and thundrously was the great orb westering. She
died on 24th March 1603. It argues that Davies had advanced in various
ways that he accompanied Lord Hunsdon to Scotland when that nobleman
went with the formal announcement of James' accession to the throne. A
pleasant anecdote has survived that when "in the presence" Lord Hunsdon
announced John Davies, the King—who if a fool was a learned one and
capable of discerning genius—straightway asked "whether he were 'Nosce
Teipsum'" and on finding he was its author, "embraced him and conceived
a considerable liking for him."[25] That his position was regarded as a
potential one with the new King is incidentally confirmed by letters to
him from no less than Bacon, who addressing him in Scotland sought his
good influences in his behalf, using in one a sphinx-like expression
of "concealed poets" that it is a marvel Delia Bacon did not lay hold
of to buttress her egregious argument on the Baconian authorship of
Shakespeare's Plays.
Accompanying the King southward, Davies held his own at the English
court. The royal 'liking' grew: and the royal brain—small no doubt yet
alert and in a sense animated with patriotic feeling—was in earnest
study of what has till to-day proved England's difficulty—Ireland.
Mountjoy (later Earl of Devonshire and husband of Sidney's
"Stella"[26]) was sent as Lord-Deputy, and Davies accompanied him as
Solicitor-General for Ireland, for which office the "patent" is dated
25th November, 1603. Immediately almost on his arrival at Dublin, viz.
on 18th December, 1603, he was knighted. The date hitherto given has
been "at Theobald's 11th February 1607," but the records of the Ulster
King of Arms make it certain that the knighthood was conferred on 18th
December, 1603. On the same occasion his "crest" is described as "On a
mount vert, a Pegasus, or, winged, gules."[27]
I know no more noble story than the Work of Sir John Davies in and
for Ireland. Our collection of his Prose Works, wherein his State
Papers and Correspondence will appear in extenso—from H. M. Public
Record Office and other sources—will make it clear as day that
beyond all comparison he was the foremost man in the Government.
With the sheer hard toil of humblest attorney slaving for his daily
bread, there was a breadth of view, a self-denying resoluteness of
purpose to benefit his adopted country, a prescience of outlook
into the future combined with fearless and magnanimous dealing with
contemporary problems, a high-hearted resistance in the face of
manifold temptations to slacken effort, and a fecundity of resource
and fulness of knowledge and vigilance of observation, that ought to
be written on a white page of our national history. It is scarcely
possible to exaggerate the consuming labours and the actual and solid
results of Davies' almost ubiquitory activities in Ireland. In my full
Life of him I hope to make good to the uttermost this high praise.
Here and now a few outward facts alone can be stated. In 1606, by
patents dated successively 29th May, 1606, and 29th May, 1609,[28] he
was promoted to be Attorney-General for Ireland, and was also created
Sergeant-at-Arms.[29] He went as "Judge of Assize." His Reports
and State Papers, and "Pleadings" and Letters, from 1603 onward,
demonstrate how firm was his grasp of circumstance, and how statesmanly
he marked out his plans, while his forensic appearances astonish with
the omniverousness of his legal reading and knowledge of precedents.
Throughout he was 'backed' and cheered by his superiors in Ireland and
by the King and his ministers. So early as 9th September, 1604, the
Lord Chancellor thus wrote to Davies:—
Yr lettr written at Cavan the |13 of Julij Last I receyude
the 28 of August. I am gladde to heare of yor [illegible] & wysh
yor seruice & successe therein may be aunswerable to yor owne
expectations & best hopes. You maye haue comfort that you serue so
gracious a soueraigne, so religious & replete wth all Royall
virtues, and so redy & wyllinge to acknowledge & remunerate the
services & dueties of his meanest servantes farre beyonde their
desertes. I doubt not but yor diligence & care will be such as
wyll be very acceptable to his Matie. In the Discourse wch you
haue sent me, I fynde not only a very lovinge respcte wch you have
towardes me (for wch I owe you heartie thankes). But also a very
wyse & judicious obseruacon of the state of this wasted kingdome & the
condicon of the people. God staye his hande from further afflictinge
them. They haue alreadye fealte the scourge of Warre & oppresion & now
are vnder the grevous scourge of famine & pestilence. God gyue them
his grace and make them imprest as true Christians ought. To become
truly Religious towarde God, Loyall and faythfull to their Soueraigne,
constantly obedient to his lawes & to the effecting thereof. I euer
wysh & praye that they may haue religious virtuous & godly magistrates
sette ouer them. To yor selfe I wish all happines, and wherein
you shall haue occasion to vse mee, you shall alwayes finde me redy &
wyllinge to stande you in the best stede I can. And so wth my very
swete comendacons I comitt you to the Almightye. And rest yor very
assured Loving frende
T. Ellesmere, Canc.
At[torn]feile
9 Septembris 1604.
To the right wor my very Loving frende, Sr. John Davis Knight, his
Maties Solict. generall in his Realme of Ireland.[30]
A few years later—1608—one Letter in full—like all our MSS.,
now for the first time printed,—from the Lord Deputy—the noble
Chichester—must suffice as a specimen of many kindred.
Noble Mr. Attornie,
Since your departure hence I haue received two ioynt letters from you,
and Sr. James Ley, and one from your selfe alone, for wch I am not
your debter vnlesse it be in the matter, wch I confesse bringes
more life wth it comming freshe out of the stoorehouse of neewes
and noveltie, for I have written as manie and more vnto you both.
Albeyt I expect you wth the first passage (for so the lordes haue
promised by their letters) yet can I not leaue you vnremembred,
assuringe you thoe you have greater friendes, none respects you better
then my selfe, nor can be more readie to make demonstration therof
accordinge to the meanes I haue. I praye bringe wth you the lordes
directions for Sr. Neale Odonnell, and the rest of the prisoners.
Sr. Neale and Ocatiance [O'Sullivan?] had contriued their escape
and woulde haue as desperately attempted it, had I not preuented it
within these sixe nightes by a discoverie made vnto me, albeyt I keep
20 men euerie neight for the guarde of the Castle ouer and aboue the
warde of the same, whereof two or three lye in each of their chambers.
Their horses were come to the towne, and all thinges else in readines.
Sure these men doe goe beyond all nations in the worlde for desperate
escapes, Shane Granie Ocarratan [O'Sullivan?] after he was acquited
of three indictments, and as most men conceiued free from all danger
of the lawe, did on fridaye the 27th of Januarie cast himselfe out of
a wyndow in the topp of the Castle by the heelpe of a peece of rotten
match, and his mantell wch brake before he was halfe waye downe,
and thoe he were presently discovered yet he escaped about supper tyme.
When I had written thus far worde was brought me that a passadge
[sic] was come from Hollyheade wch made me to pause for a tyme
hopinge you or some other wth letters, or other directions, was
arriued, but beinge advertised that the Recorder of this Cyttie only
wth a fewe other passengers had in this fayre weather wrought out a
passage by longe lyeinge att sea, although the wyndes were contrarie,
and that they came from London before Christmas and had no written
letters or message but in theise particulars, I fell to you againe.
And do now praye you to geue your best assystance and furtherance to
such matters tuchinge my perticulare as John Strowd or Annesley shall
acquaint you wth all, for wch you shall finde me verie thankfull
vnto you.
I haue written to the lordes in the behalfe of the howse servitors
here, that they maye be remembered vpon the deuysion and plantation of
the scheated lands in Ulster. I am discreadited amonge them if they
should be forgotten, and sure the plantation woulde be weake wth
out them, for they must be the pyllers to support it. Those that
shall come from thence wyll not affect it in that kynde as these do,
to make it a settlement for them and theirs; and in respect of their
wourthier deserts and paynfull labors, and that I haue vpon my promise
to speake effectually for them preuayled so farre as to staye them
from resortinge thither, wch they woulde doe in great multitudes
if I woulde haue given way to their desire. I wysh that an honorable
consideration maye be had of them before the diuision be concluded.
I knowe that worke is of great moment and on it dependes much of the
prosperitie, and good estate of the whole kingdome. I haue sayd enough
to one that vnderstandes so well: And so beinge called vpon sooner
then I expected I must end wth the page, but wyll euer be found
Your trewe affected friend
Arthur Chichester.
Att Dublyn Castle the 7th of
februarie 1608.
I send here wth the proceedinge of the Court of Kinges bench in
the cause of the Carrolans wch was violently prosecuted by the l.
of Howth. I send them by reason it is thought by the Judges that the
Baron will exclaime of their proceedinges here.
To my verie wourthie friend Sr John Davis Knight his
Maties Attornie in the Realme of Irelande.[31]
Two short letters from Bacon—not before printed, having escaped
even Mr. Spedding's Argus-eyes—in the same Carte MSS.—show Davies's
pleasant relations with his great contemporary. They are as follow:—
(I. Carte MS. Vol. 62, ff. 317-18.)
Good Sr Jh. Davies yor mistaking shall not be imputed to you (for
the difference is not much). Yor gratulacons for my marrige I take
kyndly. And as I was all waies delighted wth the fruites of yor
[illegible] so I would be gladde of yor [illegible] so as you plant
not yor self to[o] farre of[f]. For I had rather you should be a
laborer than a plant in that State. You giue me no occasion to wryte
longer in that you impart not by yor lrs any occurrence of
yrs. And so wth my very lovg considn towards you
I remayne
Yor assured friend
Fr. Bacon.
from Graies Inn,
this 26th of Dec. 1606.
To my very good Frend Sr Jh. Davis Knt Attorny g'rall to his M. in
Ireland.
(II. Ibid ff, 328-9.)
Mr. Atturny,
I thanke you for yor lre and the discourse you sent of this mere
accident, as thinges then appeared. I see manifestly the begynnyng of
better or woorse. But me thinketh it is first a tender of the better,
and woorse foloweth but vpon refusall or default. I would haue been
gladd to see you hear, but I hope occasion restreineth or meeting
for a vacation when we may haue more fruite of conference. To requite
yor proclamacon (wch in my judgment is wysely and seriously
penned) I send you [illegible] wh [illegible] wch happened to be
in my hands when yos came.
I would be gladde to hear oft from you and to be advertized how
[illegible] passe whereby to haue some occasion to thinke some good
thoughts though I can doe lyttell. At least it wilbe a contynuance in
exercise of or frendshippe wch on my part remayneth increased by
that I hear of yor service and the good respects I find towards my
self. And so in extreme hast I remayne
Yor very [illegible] frend
Fr. Bacon.
from Graies Inn this
23th of Oct. 1607.
To the R. W. his verie Lovinge frende Sr Iohn Dauys
Knight, his Maties Atturnye in Irelande.
During one of his 'circuits' in Ireland, he met Eleanor, daughter
of Lord Audley (afterwards Earl of Castlehaven) and was married to
her—though the date has not been traced. Her later years were darkened
with insanity of a strangely voluble type. It is to be feared she was
an ill "help-meet" for her husband. There is pathos, if also inevitable
comedy, in her career—not here to be entered on.[32]
While intensely occupied with his official duties, Sir John Davies did
not neglect his literary gift. He was making history every year—so
fundamental and permanent was the part he filled in Ireland—but the
Past was gone back on that he might fetch from it monition for the
Present, and hope for the Future. His imperishable book: "A Discourse
of the true reasons why Ireland has neuer been entirely subdued till
the beginning of His Majesty's reign," (4to)[33] will reward the most
prolonged study to-day. It was published in 1612. In the same year
he was made King's Sergeant and also elected M.P. for Fermanagh,
being the first representative for that county in the Irish House of
Parliament. He was likewise chosen to be Speaker of the House; but not
without a characteristically violent struggle between the Catholics
and Protestants.[34] He delivered a notable speech "to the House" on
its opening in 1613.[35] In 1614 he appears in the House of Commons in
England as M.P. for Newcastle-under-Lyne:[36] and his attendance in
England was preparatory to final retirement from Ireland. "Grants of
lands" there from the "forfeitures,"—which, if ever any righteously
acquired, he did[37]—gave him a special interest in Ireland as a
proprietor; but after all, for such a man, at such a time, to be
limited to Ireland, was but a splendid exile. It is not, therefore, to
be wondered at that having practically achieved all, and more than all,
he had been given to do, or himself originated, he sought to return.
It is usually stated (e.g. Chalmers, Woolrych, &c., &c.) that he so
returned in 1616; but it was not until 1619 that he did so finally and
absolutely; for in a letter under date "21 June, 1619," to Buckingham,
he is found still only pleading for retirement and for the transference
of his office to a relative.[38] It is one of the treasures of the
Fortescue MSS, in the Bodleian,[39] and is as follows:
My most honored Lord,
I præsent my most humble Thanks to yr Lp for præsenting mee
to his Maty the last Day, at Wansted; & for yr noble favour
in furthering the suit I then made, as well for mine owne stay in
England, as for my recommending a fitt man to my place of service in
Ireland.
The Gentleman to whom I wish this place now, is much obliged to yr
Lp already, & well worthy of yr Lps favours, & besides his
owne worthines (hee being a Reader & Judge of a circuit, of wch
degree & quality never any before was sent out of England to supply
that place), hee is of neere alliance vnto mee. So as, where there
is concurrence of meritt & kinred, yr Lp may conjecture that I
deale wth him like a gentleman & a friend, & not like a marchent.
Albeit I will leave a good place there, wthout any præsent
præferment heer (whereof none of my profession have failed at their
return out of Ireland) I might, perhaps wth some reason expect
some Retribution, to recompence the charge of Transporting my famely
from thence, & of setling it heer in this Kingdome, where I am become
almost an Alien by reason of my long absence.
For this particular favour of transferring my place to so well
deserving a successor, I doo wholly depend vppon yr Lp as I
shall euer doo vpon all other occasions, while I live, as one that
have separated my self from all other dependancies, beeing entirely
devoted to doo yr Lp all humble & faythful service
Jo: Dauys.
21 Junij 1619.
if my long service may induce favour, yr Lp may bee pleased to
looke vppon the noate enclosed.
To the right honorable my very good lord
my lord the Marques of Buckingham, &c.
It is to be regretted that the "noate" of the postscript has not been
preserved. It probably enumerated his public services.
Sir William Ryves succeeded as Attorney-General for Ireland by Patent
dated 30th October, 1619.[40] From 1619 onward, Sir John Davies is
found in the House of Commons (still for Newcastle-under-Lyne) and "on
circuit" as a Judge. His "Charges"—to be given in his Prose Works—as
"one of the Justices of Assize for the Northerne Circute"—are very
characteristic, being full of legal 'precedents,' and noticeable in
their tracing up the verdict sought to abiding principles. He took
part in the memorable "case" of Frances, Countess of Somerset, for the
poison-murder of Sir Thomas Overbury. In the House of Commons he spoke
seldom; but when anything that concerned Irish interests came up he
never failed to contend in behalf of Ireland.[41]
Lightening his legal employments were a large correspondence and
'fellowship' with his most eminent contemporaries, and the collection
of his Poetical Works, in so far as he wished them to go down to
posterity. Of the former I select one undated letter to the illustrious
Sir Robert Cotton, with whom he had been early acquainted, and
associated in 1614, in re-establishing the Society of Antiquaries,
originally founded in 1590. One of these is a sprightly and pleasant
letter, and all the more welcome that most of his correspondence that
remains is official and grave. The lighter letter is as follows, from
MSS. Cotton: Julius C. III., p. 14: now paged 133, British Museum:
Sweet Robin, for a few sweet words, a client of mine hath presented me
wth sweet meates, to what end I know not except it be, as Chaucer
speakes,
To make mine English sweet uppon my tongue, that I may pleade the
better for him to morrow at the Seale.
Not wth standing, the best vse that I can make of it, is to
preesent you wth it, especially at this time when you ar in
Physick, that you may sweeten your tast after the Rhewbarb. I have
been a little distracted wth vnexpected busines these two or three
last dayes, that I cold not performe my officious promise to visit
you in this voluntary sicknes of yours; but [erased] now I am faine
to make my hands to excuse my feet from travayling vnto you, because
being the servant of the multitude I am not mine owne man. Make much
of your self, & make yr self speedily well, that I may have your
company towards Cambridge, from whence I will go wth you to see the
ancient Seat of Robt. le Bruis; so wishing you a prosperous operation
of your Phisick, at least that you may Imagine so, for it is the
Imagination that doth good, & not the Physick, wch I ever thought a
meere imposture; I cease to troble you least the intention of to much
Reading hinder the working of those vertuous drugs.
Yrs all & ever
J. Dauis.
(Endorsed) To my worthy friend
Rob: Cotton esquier.
A second letter runs thus, from MSS. Cotton: Julius C. III., p. 32:—
Noble Sr Robert: the ordinary subject of letters is, newes, whereof
this kingdome since the warres, hath been very barren; therefore I
must write vnto you that wch is no newes, that is, that I love you,
& hold a kind & dear memory of you.
according to my promise to yr self & Mr. Solliciter of England
who is now, I hear, a Judge, I have caused this bearer to draw some
Mapps of or principal Cittyes of Ireland; & he having occasion to
go for England, I have thought fitt to direct him vnto you. he is an
honest ingenuous yong mā & of yr owne Name. I hear not yet of
ye Antiquities out of Cumberland; if they be brought hither I will
take care to transmitt thā to London, & so in speciall hast, being
ready to go my circuit ovr all Munster I leave you to ye divine
p'servation.
Ys to do you Service,
Io: Dauys.
Dublin 4 Martij 1607.
I desire to be affectionately remembred to Mr.
Justice Doddridge & Mr. Clarencieux.
His Poems, as finally collected by him, appeared in a thin octavo
in 1622. His Prose Works he never collected, but allowed them to be
re-published separately. His "True Cause" passed through several
editions during his own life-time. One of his most important
prose-books after the "True Cause" brings us to the closing event
of his busy and various-coloured life. It is entitled in the first
issue, which was posthumous[42]—"The Question concerning Impositions,
Tonnage, Poundage, Prizage, Customs, &c. Fully stated and argued, from
Reason, Law, and Policy. Dedicated to King James in the latter end of
his Reign." (1656.)
This historically-memorable treatise has already been reproduced in the
Prose Works.[43] Elsewhere I examine it critically.[44] It must suffice
here to state that later the King (Charles I.), having an impoverished
exchequer, had recourse to forced loans of various amounts. Hating the
control of Parliament, he persisted in substituting his will for law,
his "proclamation" for statute. Feeling the treacherousness of his
standing-ground of prerogative, the Judges were applied to, and with
loyalty to the monarch rather than to their country, they somewhat
favoured the King's 'demands.' Charles deemed their "opinion" to have
a somewhat "uncertain sound," and presented to the Judges a paper for
their signature, recognising the legality of the collection. This was
refused. One of the victims of the sovereign's wrath was Chief-Justice
Crew, who was "discharged" on the 9th of November, 1626 (Foss's
Judges, vi., p. 291). Sir John Davies was appointed as his successor;
and one cannot help recognising that the opinions revealed in his "Jus
Imponendi" contributed to the succession. For one, I should rather
have found Sir John Davies on the other side, spite of his great array
of "precedents" and ingenious applications to the then circumstances
and exigencies, and necessarily ignorant of the lengths Charles as
distinguished from James, was to proceed. Technically, there had been
"precedents" no doubt; but long "use and wont" had rendered so-called
regal rights obsolete, and it was insanity to revive them, as Charles
I.,—who inherited James's high notions of regal authority,—found out
when too late. But, passing to Davies, the "lean fellow" called Death
was nearer the Knight than was the Chief-Justiceship. Purple and ermine
robes were actually bought, but they were not to be donned. He had told
a Mr. Mead that he was at supper with the Lord Keeper on the 7th of
December,[45] and that he fully expected the great promotion. The air
was thick with "reports" to the same effect. He was found dead in his
bed on the morning of the 8th December, cut down, it has been supposed,
by apoplexy. Three days after, he was interred in S. Martin's Church,
London. Later a double inscription for himself and his widow (who was
re-married to Sir Archibald Douglas,) long hung on the third pillar,
near the grave. The original Latin, with our translation, are as
follow:[46]—
D. O. M. S.
Johannes Davys Equestris ordinis quondam Attornati
Regii Generalis amplissima prudentiâ in regno
Hyberniæ functus, inde in patriam revocatus
inter servientes Domini Regis ad Legem primum
Locum obtinuit; post varia in utrone munere præ
clare gesta ad ampliora jam designatus, repente
spem suorum destituit suam implevit ab humanis
honoribus ad cœlestem gloriam evocatus
Ætatis anno 57.o
Vir ingenio compto, rarâ facundiâ
Oratione cum solutâ tum numeris restrictâ
Felicissimus.
Juridicam severitatem morum elegantiâ et ameniore eruditione temperavit.
Iudex incorruptus; Patronus fidus
Ingenuæ pietatis amore et anxiæ superstitionis contemptu
Iuxta insignis.
Plebeiarum animarum in religionis negotio
Pervicacem μἱκροψυχιαν ex edito despiciebet
Fastidium leniente miseratione.
Ipse magnanimè probus, religiosus, liber, et cœlo admotus
Uxorem habuit Dominam Eleanoram Honoratissimi
Comitis de Castlehaven Baronis Audley filiam
Unicam ex eâ prolem superstitem hæredem reliquit
Luciam illustrissimo Ferdinando Baroni
Hastings Huntingdoniæ Comiti nuptam.
Diem Supremam obiit 8o idus Decembris
Anno Domini 1626.
Apud nos exemplum relinquens, hic resurrectionem justorum expectat.
Accubat dignissimo marito incomparabilis uxor
Quæ illustre genus
Et generi pares animos
Christianâ mansuetudine temperavit
Erudita super sexum
Mitis infra sortem
Plurimis Major
Quia humilior
In eximiâ formâ sublime ingenium
In venustâ comitate singularem modestiam
In femineo corpore viriles animos
In rebus adversissimis serenam mentem
In impio sæculo pietatem et rectitudinem inconcussam
Possedit.
Non illi robustam animam aut res lauta laxavit, aut
Angusta contraxit, sed utramque sortem pari vultu
Animoque non excepit modo sed rexit
Quippe Dei plena cui plenitudini
Mundus nec benignus addere
Nec malignus detrahere potuisset
Satis Deum jamdudum spirans et sursum aspirans sui
Ante et Reip. fati præsaga, salutisque æternæ certissima
Ingente latoque ardore in Servatoris dilectissimi sinum
Ipsius sanguine lotam animam efflavit
Rebus humanis exempta immortalitatem induit
III. Non. Quintilis Anno Salutis 1652.
Ps. 16. 9.
Etiam caro mea habitat securè quà non es
Derelicturus animam meam in sepulchro.
D(eo) O(ptimo) M(aximo) S(acrum)
To God the Best and Greatest: Sacred.
John Davys of knightly rank, having formerly
discharged with prudence the highest duties of
King's Attorney General in the realm of Ireland:
thence having been recalled to his own country,
secured the first place among the servants
of his lord the King, at the Law. After various
services nobly rendered in each office, being now
nominated to more distinguished (appointments)
he suddenly frustrated the hope of his friends
but fulfilled his own—being called away
from human honours to celestial glory,
in the year of his age 57.
A man for accomplished genius, for uncommon
eloquence, for language whether free or bound
in verse,
Most happy.
Judicial sternness with elegance of manners
and more pleasant learning
he tempered.
An uncorrupt Judge, a faithful Patron
For love of free-born piety and contempt of fretting superstition
alike remarkable.
He looked down from on high on the obstinate narrowness
of plebeian souls in the matter of religion,
pity softening his disdain.
Himself magnanimously just, religious, free, and moved by heaven,
Had for wife the Lady Eleanor of the Right Honble.
Earl of Castlehaven, Baron Audley, daughter:
His only surviving offspring by her he left as heiress,
Lucy, to the most illustrious Ferdinand Baron
Hastings, Earl of Huntingdon, married.
He spent his last day the 8th December
In the year of our Lord 1626.
With us leaving an example: here for the resurrection
of the Just, he waits.
Near to her most worthy husband lies his incomparable Wife:
Who her illustrious birth
And spirit equal to her race
With Christian mildness tempered.
Learned above her sex,
Meek below her rank,
Than most people greater
Because more humble,
In eminent beauty She possessed a lofty mind,
In pleasing affability, singular modesty:
In a woman's body a man's spirit,
In most adverse circumstances a serene mind,
In a wicked age unshaken piety and uprightness.
Not for her did Luxury relax her strong soul, or
Poverty narrow it: but each lot with equal countenance
And mind, she not only took but ruled.
Nay she was full of God, to which fulness
Neither a smiling world could have added,
Nor from it a frowning world have taken away.
Now for a long time sufficiently breathing of God
and aspiring above, of her own
And the Commonwealth's fate divining beforehand,
And most sure of Eternal Salvation
With a mighty and huge ardour into her Beloved Saviour's
breast, She breathed forth her soul washed in His own blood.
Taken away from things human she put on immortality
on the fifth of July, in the year of Salvation, 1652.
Ps. 16. 9.
My flesh also dwells securely because Thou wilt not
leave my soul in the sepulchre.
One is willing to accept the "golden lies" of these Epitaphs in either
case.
Sir John Davies had several children. One, who was semi-idiotic, was
drowned in Ireland. Others alleged to have been born, have not been
traced. His daughter Lucy, of the Inscriptions, and by whom, no doubt,
they were procured, became famous in her generation as Countess of
Huntingdon. We have to deplore that while we have a fine portrait
of her, none, as yet, has been found of her Father. His Will and
Charities, and their singular after-history, will be given in my fuller
Life (as before). Pass we now to
II. CRITICAL.
I shall limit myself in this second half of the Memorial-Introduction
to a brief statement and examination of certain characteristics of
the Poetry of Sir John Davies—the limitation being imposed by the
contents of the present volumes.[47] There are Poets whose truest and
most certain fame rests on so-called minor poems; and yet commonly
their bulkier productions have over-shadowed these. From Milton to
Wordsworth it is to be lamented that to the many they should be
represented by "Paradise Lost" and "The Excursion"; or to descend,
that Thomas Campbell and Samuel Rogers should have so hidden
behind their "Pleasures of Hope" and "Pleasures of Memory" their rare
and real faculty as Poets—for while in the larger poems of Milton
and Wordsworth there is of the imperishable stuff that only genius
of a lofty type weaves, it is rather (meo judicio) in "purple
patches" than in the web as a whole. In Milton and Wordsworth you do
not read them at their highest in their Epics but in their shorter
poems; while Campbell and Rogers should long since have died out of
men's hearts had they left nothing behind them save the smooth and
prize-poem-like common-places of their "Pleasures." In Milton the
remark requires modification, for only in "Paradise Lost" has he put
forth to uttermost daring his Imagination—than which no writer of
all time has approached him for grandeur of vision and splendour of
utterance. But substantially I think that those capable of discernment
will agree with me that if Time may shut and leave unread except by
an elect few, many pages of the 'great' and volume-filling poems, the
lesser will assuredly draw more and more homage, and abide the regalia
of our Literature.
It is different with Sir John Davies. His "Orchestra" and "Hymnes to
Astræa" and Minor Poems, preceded considerably his "Nosce Teipsum," but
it was his "Nosce Teipsum" that made King James I. prick up his ears on
hearing his name, and it is "Nosce Teipsum" that is the poem that will
secure immortality to Sir John Davies. His other poetry has special
remarkablenesses—as will appear—but in "Nosce Teipsum" alone have
we the inspiration and spontaneity, the insight and speculation, the
subtlety and yet definiteness, the "burden" (in the prophetic sense)
and the melody of the Poet as distinguished from the versifier or
verse-Rhetorician.
I value "Nosce Teipsum" as a first thing for its deep and original
thinking, i.e. for its intellectual strength—all the more
remarkable that as the former part of the Memorial-Introduction
shows, he was only in his 28th-29th year when he composed it. Of
its art I shall have somewhat to say anon: but regarding it as a
"philosophical poem" and as a contribution to metaphysic, I place
foremost the THOUGHT in it, as at once a characteristic and a
merit (if merit be not too poor a word). Davies (along with
Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke and Donne)
simply as Thinker on the profoundest problems of nature and human
nature, seems to me to stand out pre-eminently, and in saying this, I
regard it as sheer nonsense to exalt the workmanship at the expense
of the material—to ask me to recognize in a bit of tin ingeniously
and painstakingly etched into a kind of miracle of execution something
co-equal with a solid bar of gold as it gleams i' the face of the sun
in its purged and massive simpleness; or to put it unmetaphorically,
I must pronounce judgment on the rank of a Poet qua a Poet
fundamentally on the kind and quality of the thought on higher and
deeper things that he puts into his verse and that he strikes out in
others. Your mere artist-Poet is surely third-rate and must even go
beneath the music-composer of to-day.
"Nosce Teipsum" as it was practically the earliest so it remains the
most remarkable example of deep reflective-meditative thinking in verse
in our language or in any language. The student of this great poem will
very soon discover that within sometimes homeliest metaphors there is
folded a long process of uncommon thought on the every-day facts of our
mysterious existence. I call the thinking deep, because "Nosce Teipsum"
reveals more than eyes that looked on the surface—reveals penetrative
and bold descent to the roots of our being and reachings upward to the
Highest. Your mere realistic word-painter of what he sees, is shallow
beside a Poet who passes beneath the surface and circumstance and
fetches up from sunless depths or down from radiant altitudes fact and
facts—each contributory to that ultimate philosophy which while it
shall accept every proved fact, will not rush off hysterically shouting
"eureka," with ribald accusations of all that generations have held to
be venerable and sustaining. I call the thinking original, for there
is evidence everywhere in "Nosce Teipsum" that the penitent recluse of
Oxford made his own self his study—as really if not as avowedly as
Wordsworth.
I am aware in claiming originality for Davies that in that huge
waste-basket of our Literature—Nichols' Literary Illustrations
(Vol. IV. pp. 549-50) there is a letter from an Alexander Dalrymple,
Esq., who is designated "the great hydrographer" to "Mr. Herbert"
(the Bibliographer I opine) wherein he takes different ground. We
must traverse his charge. He thus writes:—"Dear Sir, I have lately
purchased the following old books" (he enumerates several).... "I have
also got 'Wither's translation of Nemesius de Naturâ hominis' by which
I find Sir John Davies's poem on the Immortality of the Soul is chiefly
taken from Nemesius" ... "I have picked up a tract in 4to. by Thomas
Jenner, with some very good plates, the marginal notes of which seem
to be what the heads of Tate's edition of Sir John Davies's are taken
from."
Were this true it would utterly take from "Nosce Teipsum" the first
characteristic and merit I claim for it—deep and original thought. But
it is absolutely untrue, an utter delusion, as any one will find who
takes the pains that I have done to read, either the original Nemesius,
or what this sapient book-buyer mentions, Wither's translation. With my
mind and memory full of "Nosce Teipsum" and the poem itself beside me,
I have read and re-read every page, sentence and word of Nemesius and
Wither (and there is a good deal of Wither in his translation: 1636)
and I have not come upon a single metaphor or (as the old margin-notes
called them) "similies," or even observation in "Nosce Teipsum" drawn
from Nemesius or Wither. The only element in common is that necessarily
Nemesius adduces and discusses the opinions of the Heathen Philosophers
on the many matters handled by him, and Sir John Davies does the same
with equal inevitableness. But to base a charge of plagiarism against
"Nosce Teipsum" on this, is to reason on the connection between
Tenterden Steeple and Goodwin Sands (if the well-worn folly be a
permissible reference). The following is the title-page of the quaint
old tome and as it is by no means scarce, any reader can cross-question
our witness: "The Nature of Man. A learned and useful Tract written
in Greek by Nemesius, surnamed the Philosopher; sometime Bishop of a
City in Phœnecia, and one of the most ancient Fathers of the Church.
Englyshed, and divided into Sections, with briefs of their principle
contents by Geo. Wither. London: Printed by M. F. for Henry Taunton in
St. Duncan's Churchyard in Fleetstreet. 1636." (12o 21 leaves and
pp. 661.) Chronologically—Wither's translation was not published until
1636, while "Nosce Teipsum" was published in 1599; but Nemesius' own
book no more than Wither's warrants any such preposterous statements as
this Alexander Dalrymple makes. Even in the treatment of the "opinions"
of the Heathen Philosophers which come up in Nemesius, and in "Nosce
Teipsum," the latter while 'intermedling' with the same returns wholly
distinct answers in refutation. The "opinions" themselves as being
derived of necessity from the same sources are identical; but neither
their statement nor refutation. Nemesius is ingenious and well-learned,
but heavy and prosaic. Sir John Davies is light of touch and a light
of poetic glory lies on the lamest "opinion." The "Father of the
Church" goes forth to war with encumbering armour: the Poet naked
and unarmed beyond the spear wherewith he 'pierces' everything, viz.
human consciousness. Jenner's forgotten book had perhaps been read by
Tate, but that concerns Tate not Sir John Davies. I pronounce it a
hallucination to write "Sir John Davies' poem on the immortality of
the Soul is chiefly taken from Nemesius." Not one line was taken from
Nemesius.
Before passing on it may be well to illustrate here from the "contents"
of two chapters (representative of the whole) in Wither's Nemesius,
the merely superficial agreement between them and "Nosce Teipsum." In
the Poem under "The Soule of Man and the Immortalitie thereof" various
opinions of its 'nature' are thus summarized:
"One thinks the Soule is aire; another fire;
Another blood, diffus'd about the heart;
Another saith, the elements conspire,
And to her essence each doth giue a part.
Musicians thinke our Soules are harmonies,
Phisicians hold that they complexions bee;
Epicures make them swarmes of atomies,
Which doe by chance into our bodies flee." (p. 26.)
In Nemesius, c. 2. § I, the 'headings' are: "I. The severall and
different Opinions of the Ancients concerning the Sovl, as whether it
be a Substance; whether corporeall, or incoporeall, whether mortal
or immortal P. II. The confutation of those who affirme in general
that the Sovl is a corporeall-substance. III. Confutations of their
particular Arguments, who affirme that the Sovl is Blood, Water, or
Aire." These are all common-places of ancient 'opinion' and of the
subject; and anything less poetical than Nemesius' treatment of them is
scarcely imaginable. Here if anywhere Davies' indebtedness must have
been revealed; but not one scintilla of obligation suggests itself to
the Reader. Again in the Poem, after a subtle and very remarkable
'confutation' of the notion that the Soul is a thing of 'Sense' only,
there comes proof "That the Soule is more than the Temperature of the
humours of the Body;" and nowhere does Davies show a more cunning
hand than in his statement of the 'false opinion.' Turning once more
to Nemesius c. II. § 3, these are its 'headings:'—"I. It is here
declared, that the Soul is not (as Galen implicitly affirmeth) a
Temperature in general. II. It is here proved also, that the Soul is no
particular temperature or quality. III. And it is likewise demonstrated
that the Soul is rather governesse of the temperatures of the Body,
both ordering them, and subduing the vices which arise from the bodily
tempers." Here again we would have expected some resemblances or
suggestions; but again there is not a jot or tittle of either. Thus
is it throughout. One might as well turn up the words used in "Nosce
Teipsum" in a quotation-illustrated Dictionary of the English Language
(such as Richardson's) and argue 'plagiarism' because of necessarily
agreeing definitions, as from a few scattered places in "Nosce Teipsum"
discussing the same topics, allege appropriation of Nemesius. Your mere
readers of title-pages and contents, or glancers over indices are
constantly blundering after this fashion. Dalrymple was one of these.
The headings of the successive sections—removed in our text from
the margins to their several places—suffice to inform us of the
original lines of thought and research and illustration pursued in
"Nosce Teipsum" and thither I refer the Reader. The merest glance
will show that in "Nosce Teipsum" you have the whole breadth of the
field traversed—and that for the first time in Verse. I can only very
imperfectly illustrate either the depth or the originality of the poem.
Almost as at the opening of the book, take these uniting both:—
"And yet alas, when all our lamps are burnd,
Our bodyes wasted, and our spirits spent;
When we haue all the learnèd Volumes turn'd,
Which yeeld mens wits both help and ornament:
What can we know? or what can we discerne?
When Error chokes the windowes of the minde,
The diuers formes of things, how can we learne,
That haue been euer from our birth-day blind?
When Reasone's lampe, which (like the sunne in skie)
Throughout Man's little world her beames did spread;
Is now become a sparkle, which doth lie
Vnder the ashes, halfe extinct, and dead:
How can we hope, that through the eye and eare,
This dying sparkle, in this cloudy place,
Can recollect these beames of knowledge cleere,
Which were infus'd in the first minds by grace?
So might the heire whose father hath in play
Wasted a thousand pound of ancient rent;
By painefull earning of a groate a day,
Hope to restore the patrimony spent.
The wits that diu'd most deepe and soar'd most hie
Seeking Man's pow'rs, haue found his weaknesse such:
"Skill comes so slow, and life so fast doth flie,
"We learne so little and forget so much.
For this the wisest of all morall men
Said, 'He knew nought, but that he nought did know';
And the great mocking-Master mockt not then,
When he said, 'Truth was buried deepe below.'
For how may we to others' things attaine,
When none of vs his owne soule vnderstands?
For which the Diuell mockes our curious braine,
When, 'Know thy selfe' his oracle commands.
For why should wee the busie Soule beleeue,
When boldly she concludes of that and this;
When of her selfe she can no iudgement giue,
Nor how, nor whence, nor where, nor what she is?
All things without, which round about we see,
We seeke to knowe, and how therewith to doe;
But that whereby we reason, liue and be,
Within our selues, we strangers are thereto.
We seeke to know the mouing of each spheare,
And the strange cause of th' ebs and flouds of Nile;
But of that clock, within our breasts we beare,
The subtill motions we forget the while.
We that acquaint our selues with euery Zoane
And passe both Tropikes and behold the Poles,
When we come home, are to our selues vnknown,
And vnacquainted still with our owne Soules.
We study Speech but others we perswade;
We leech-craft learne, but others cure with it;
We interpret lawes, which other men haue made,
But reade not those which in our hearts are writ." (pp. 18-20.)
Again:—
In what manner the Soule is united to the Body.
But how shall we this union well expresse?
Nought ties the soule; her subtiltie is such
She moues the bodie, which she doth possesse,
Yet no part toucheth, but by Vertue's touch.
Then dwels shee not therein as in a tent,
Nor as a pilot in his ship doth sit;
Nor as the spider in his web is pent;
Nor as the waxe retaines the print in it;
Nor as a vessell water doth containe;
Nor as one liquor in another shed;
Nor as the heat doth in the fire remaine;
Nor as a voice throughout the ayre is spread:
But as the faire and cheerfull Morning light,
Doth here and there her siluer beames impart,
And in an instant doth herselfe vnite
To the transparent ayre, in all, and part:
Still resting whole, when blowes th' ayre diuide:
Abiding pure, when th' ayre is most corrupted;
Throughout the ayre, her beams dispersing wide,
And when the ayre is tost, not interrupted:
So doth the piercing Soule the body fill,
Being all in all, and all in part diffus'd;
Indiuisible, incorruptible still,
Not forc't, encountred, troubled or confus'd.
And as the sunne aboue, the light doth bring,
Though we behold it in the ayre below;
So from th' Eternall Light the Soule doth spring,
Though in the body she her powers doe show. (pp. 61-2.)
Further, "An Acclamation":—
An Acclamation.
O! what is Man (great Maker of mankind!)
That Thou to him so great respect dost beare!
That Thou adornst him with so bright a mind,
Mak'st him a king, and euen an angel's peere!
O! what a liuely life, what heauenly power,
What spreading vertue, what a sparkling fire!
How great, how plentifull, how rich a dower
Dost Thou within this dying flesh inspire!
Thou leau'st Thy print in other works of Thine,
But Thy whole image Thou in Man hast writ;
There cannot be a creature more diuine,
Except (like Thee) it should be infinit.
But it exceeds man's thought, to thinke how hie
God hath raisd Man, since God a man became;
The angels doe admire this Misterie,
And are astonisht when they view the same. (pp. 81-2.)
Again:—
That the Soule is Immortal, and cannot Die.
Nor hath he giuen these blessings for a day,
Nor made them on the bodie's life depend;
The Soule though made in time, suruives for aye,
And though it hath beginning, sees no end.
Her onely end, is neuer-ending blisse;
Which is, th' eternall face of God to see;
Who Last of Ends, and First of Causes, is:
And to doe this, she must eternall bee.
How senselesse then, and dead a soule hath hee,
Which thinks his soule doth with his body die!
Or thinkes not so, but so would haue it bee,
That he might sinne with more securitie.
For though these light and vicious persons say,
Our Soule is but a smoake, or ayrie blast;
Which, during life, doth in our nostrils play,
And when we die, doth turne to wind at last:
Although they say, 'Come let us eat and drinke';
Our life is but a sparke, which quickly dies;
Though thus they say, they know not what to think,
But in their minds ten thousand doubts arise.
Therefore no heretikes desire to spread
Their light opinions, like these Epicures:
For so the staggering thoughts are comfortèd,
And other men's assent their doubt assures.
Yet though these men against their conscience striue,
There are some sparkles in their flintie breasts
Which cannot be extinct, but still reuiue;
That though they would, they cannot quite bee beasts;
But who so makes a mirror of his mind,
And doth with patience view himselfe therein,
His Soule's eternitie shall clearely find,
Though th' other beauties be defac't with sin. (pp. 82-3.)
Further, "An Acclamation":—
An Acclamation.
O ignorant poor man! what dost thou beare
Lockt vp within the casket of thy brest?
What iewels, and what riches hast thou there!
What heauenly treasure in so weak a chest!
Looke in thy soule, and thou shalt beauties find,
Like those which drownd Narcissus in the flood:
Honour and Pleasure both are in thy mind,
And all that in the world is counted Good.
Thinke of her worth, and thinke that God did meane.
This worthy mind should worthy things imbrace;
Blot not her beauties with thy thoughts vnclean,
Nor her dishonour with thy passions base;
Kill not her quickning power with surfettings,
Mar not her Sense with sensualitie;
Cast not her serious wit on idle things:
Make not her free-will, slaue to vanitie.
And when thou think'st of her eternitie,
Thinke not that Death against her nature is;
Thinke it a birth; and when thou goest to die,
Sing like a swan, as if thou went'st to blisse.
And if thou, like a child, didst feare before,
Being in the darke, where thou didst nothing see:
Now I haue broght thee torch-light, feare no more;
Now when thou diest, thou canst not hud-winkt be.
And thou, my Soule, which turn'st thy curious eye,
To view the beames of thine owne forme diuine;
Know, that thou canst know nothing perfectly,
While thou art clouded with this flesh of mine.
Take heed of ouer-weening, and compare
Thy peacock's feet with thy gay peacock's traine;
Study the best, and highest things, that are,
But of thy selfe, an humble thought retaine.
Cast down thy selfe, and onely striue to raise
The glory of thy Maker's sacred Name;
Vse all thy powers, that Blessed Power to praise,
Which giues the power to bee, and use the same. (pp. 114-16.)
Finally, here is a simile well-wrought in itself and accidentally to be
for ever associated with a celebrated criticism:—
The Motion of the Soule.
.... how can shee but immortall bee?
When with the motions of both Will and Wit,
She still aspireth to eternitie,
And neuer rests, till she attaine to it?
Water in conduit pipes, can rise no higher
Then the wel-head, from whence it first doth spring:
Then sith to eternall God shee doth aspire,
Shee cannot be but an eternall thing. (p. 85.)
The second stanza contains a metaphor that was stolen and murdered as
well, by Robert Montgomery. Concerning his use of it Macaulay thus
wrote in his merciless review:—"We would not be understood, however,
to say that Mr. Robert Montgomery cannot make similitudes for himself.
A very few lines further on we find one which has every mark of
originality and on which we will be bound, none of the poets whom he
has plundered will ever think of making reprisal:—
'The soul aspiring, pants its source to mount,
As streams meander level with their fount.'
"We take this to be on the whole the worst similitude in the world.
In the first place, no stream meanders, or can possibly meander level
with its fount. In the next place, if streams did meander level with
their fount, no two motions can be less like each other than that of
meandering level and that of mounting upwards." True; but none the less
is the original 'spoiled' and despoiled metaphor, accurate and vivid.
If the Reader will surrender himself to the task, he will be rewarded
for studying and re-studying the entire poem of "Nosce Teipsum;" and,
unless I very much mistake, will then regard Hallam's judgment on it
as inadequate rather than exaggerate, as (with intercalated remarks),
thus: "A more remarkable poem [than Drayton's and Daniel's] is that
of Sir John Davies, afterwards Chief Justice of Ireland [a mistake],
entitled, 'Nosce Teipsum,' published in 1599, usually, though rather
inaccurately, called 'On the Immortality of the Soul.' Perhaps no
language can produce a poem, extending to so great a length, of
more condensation of thought, or in which fewer languid verses will
be found. Yet, according to some definitions [of poetry] the 'Nosce
Teipsum' is wholly unpoetical, inasmuch as it shows no passion [a
greater blunder still] and little fancy [a third mistake]. If it
reaches the heart at all, it is through the reason. But since strong
argument in terse and correct style fails not to give us pleasure in
prose, it seems strange that it should lose its effect when it gains
the aid of regular metre to gratify the ear and assist the memory.
Lines there are in Davies which far out-weigh much of the descriptive
and imaginative poetry of the last two centuries, whether we estimate
them by the pleasure they impart to us, or by the intellectual vigour
they display. Experience has shown that the faculties familiarly
deemed poetical are frequently exhibited in a considerable degree,
but very few have been able to preserve a perspicuous beauty without
stiffness or pedantry (allowance made for the subject and the times),
in metaphysical reasoning, so successfully as Sir John Davies."[48]
The alleged "no passion" is contradicted by the various pathetic
autobiographic introspections and confessions brought out in this
Memorial-Introduction, and not less so by the outbursts of adoration
and praise that thunder up like the hosannahs before the great White
Throne. The similarly alleged "little fancy" is one of manifold proofs
that the critic was the most superficial of all imaginable readers with
so much pretention. "Nosce Teipsum" is radiant as the dew-bedabbled
grass with delicacies of fancy, not a few of the "fancies" being as
exquisitely touched as divine work.
Campbell in his "Essay on English Poetry" (prefixed to his
"Specimens") may be read with interest after Hallam. Accepting from
Johnson as Johnson from Dryden the name of "metaphysical poets," he
observes:—"The term of metaphysical poetry would apply with much more
justice to the quatrains of Sir John Davies and those of Sir Fulke
Greville, writers who, at a later period, found imitators in Sir Thomas
Overbury and Sir William Davenant. Davies's poem on the Immortality
of the Soul, entitled "Nosce teipsum," will convey a much more
favourable idea of metaphysical poetry than the wittiest effusions of
Donne and his followers. Davies carried abstract reasoning into verse
with an acuteness and felicity which have seldom been equalled. He
reasons undoubtedly with too much labour, formality, and subtlety,
to afford uniform poetical pleasure. The generality of his stanzas
exhibit hard arguments interwoven with the pliant materials of fancy so
closely, that we may compare them to a texture of cloth and metallic
threads, which is cold and stiff, while it is splendidly curious. There
is this difference, however, between Davies and the commonly-styled
metaphysical poets, that he argues like a hard thinker, and they,
for the most part, like madmen. If we conquer the drier parts of
Davies' poem, and bestow a little attention on thoughts which were
meant, not to gratify the indolence, but to challenge the activity of
the mind, we shall find in the entire essay fresh beauties at every
perusal: for in the happier parts we come to logical truths so well
illustrated by ingenious similes, that we know not whether to call the
thoughts more poetically or philosophically just. The judgment and
fancy are reconciled, and the imagery of the poems seems to start more
vividly from the surrounding shades of abstraction."
The 'coldness' of 'cloth and metallic threads' which the critic applies
to the 'hard arguments' of Nosce Teipsum is a mere imagination. But
besides, the 'metallic threads' are not for warmth but for splendour.
The lining of the 'splendidly curious' garment is to be looked for for
warmth. Similarly the 'hard arguments' would have been unpoetical as
unphilosophical had they been 'warm' with the warmth of the 'clothing'
in similes and fancies. The 'hardness' is where it ought to be—in
the thinking: but it is a hardness like the bough that is green with
leafage and radiant with bloom and odorous with 'sweet scent' and
pliant to every lightest touch of the breeze. The leaf and bloom start
from the 'hard' bough rightly, fittingly 'hard' to its utmost twig. The
alleged 'too much labour' is singularly uncharacteristic. As for the
'madness' I can but exclaim—Oh for more of such 'fine lunacy' as in
Donne is condemned! His and compeers' 'madness' is worth cart-loads of
most men's sanity.
In our own day Dr. George Macdonald has spoken more wisely if still
somewhat superficially of "Nosce Teipsum" in his charming "England's
Antiphon." Having explained that by "Immortality of the Soul" is
intended "the spiritual nature of the soul, resulting in continuity
of existence," he proceeds:—"It [Nosce Teipsum] is a wonderful
instance of what can be done for metaphysics in verse, and by means
of imaginative or poetic embodiment generally. Argumentation cannot
of course naturally belong to the region of poetry, however well
it may comport itself when there naturalized; and consequently,
although there are most poetic no less than profound passages in the
treatise, a light scruple arises whether its constituent matter can
properly be called poetry. At all events, however, certain of the
more prosaic measures and stanzas lend themselves readily, and with
much favour, to some of the more complex of logical necessities. And
it must be remembered that in human speech, as in the human mind,
there are no absolute divisions: power shades off into feeling; and
the driest logic may find the heroic couplet render it good service."
(pp. 105-6). The 'scruple' must be 'light' indeed that has to decide
whether the 'reasoning' of "Nosce Teipsum" be or be not 'poetry.' It
is astounding that at this time o' day any should attempt to exclude
the highest region of the intellect and its noblest occupation from
poetry. Poetry I must hold absolutely is poetry, whatever be its matter
and form if the thinking be glorified by imagination or tremulous with
emotion. It is sheer folly to refuse to the Poet any material within
the compass of the universe. Especially deplorable is it to have to
argue for possibilities of poetry in the greatest of all thinking,
viz., metaphysics, in the face of such actualities of achievement as in
Davies and Lord Brooke and Donne.
A second characteristic of "Nosce Teipsum" that calls for notice
is its perfection of workmanship shown in the mastery of an
extremely difficult stanza, as well as its solidity of material.
Here unquestionably Sir John Davies far excels Lord Brooke and Donne,
and later, Sir William Davenant in "Gondibert." The two former are
occasionally (it must be granted) semi-inarticulate, and the last
is very often monotonous and trying. "Nosce Teipsum" is throughout
articulate and unmistakeable, and never flags. You have a fear o'
times that a metaphor will prove grotesque or mean: or a vein of
thought pinch and go out from ore to bare limestone. But invariably an
imaginative touch, or a colour-like epithet, or a thrill of emotion,
lifts up the mean into a transfiguring atmosphere as of sun-set purples
and crysolites, and gives to grotesquest gargoyles (as of cathedrals)
a strange fitness. Then when a thought or illustration seems about
to end, debasedly, another forward-carrying and ennobling, swiftly
succeeds.
There is more than dexterity, there is consummate art—the art of a
conscious master—in the inter-weaving of the lines and stanzas of
"Nosce Teipsum." Professor Craik recognised the difficulty and the
triumph, but fails by ultra-ingenuity in accounting for either the
selection of the measure or the miracle of its continuous success.
His criticism is worth recalling, thus:—"A remarkable poem of this
age ... is the 'Nosce Teipsum' of Sir John Davies ... a philosophical
poem, the earliest of the kind in the language. It is written in rhyme,
in the common heroic ten-syllable verse, but disposed in quatrains,
like the early play of Misogonus, already mentioned, and other poetry
of the same era, or like Sir Thomas Overbury's poem of 'The Wife,'
the 'Gondibert' of Sir William Davenant, and the 'Annus Mirabilis' of
Dryden, at a later period. No one of these writers has managed this
difficult stanza so successfully as Davies: it has the disadvantage
of requiring the sense to be in general closed at certain regularly
and quickly-recurring turns, which yet are very ill adapted for an
effective pause; and even all the skill of Dryden has been unable to
free it from a certain air of monotony and languor,—a circumstance of
which that poet may be supposed to have been himself sensible, since he
wholly abandoned it after one or two early attempts. Davies, however,
has conquered its difficulty; and, as has been observed, 'perhaps no
language can produce a poem, extending to so great a length, of more
condensation of thought, or in which fewer languid verses will be
found.' (Hallam, as before.) In fact, it is by this condensation and
sententious brevity, so carefully filed and elaborated, however, as
to involve no sacrifice of perspicuity or fulness of expression, that
he has attained his end. Every quatrain is a pointed expression of a
separate thought, like one of Rochefoucault's maxims; each thought
being, by great skill and painstaking in the packing, made exactly to
fit and to fill the same case. It may be doubted, however, whether
Davies would not have produced a still better poem if he had chosen a
measure which would have allowed him greater freedom and real variety;
unless, indeed, his poetical talent was of a sort that required the
suggestive aid and guidance of such artificial restraints as he had to
cope with in this; and what would have been a bondage to a more fiery
and teeming imagination, was rather a support to his."[49]
Most of this must be read cum grano salis. Davies elected his
measure and stanza with evidently entire spontaneity; and it is an
odd reversal of the simple matter of fact to ascribe the 'artificial
restraints' chosen, to an absence 'of a fiery and teeming imagination,'
when, as all observation demonstrates, the more fiery and fecund
the imagination of a Poet, the more exquisitely obedient is he to
the subtlest and most intricate movements of his measure—just as
the bluest-blooded race-horse is a law to itself whereas your stolid
dray-cart or plough-drawer needs the "artificial restraints" of all
kinds of gear, and the constraint of whip and blow and vociferation. I
can well suppose that but for the "Fairy Queen" Sir John Davies might
have chosen its stanza, but just as to-day "In Memoriam" has taken
to itself its form and music to the exclusion of every other—though
a very ancient English measure—so Spenser's immortal poem precluded
"Nosce Teipsum" following in the same. I cannot admit "artificial
restraints" in the sense of needed restraints or aid. There was the
stanza, and the genius of Sir John Davies appropriated it—since
Spenser's, in all worship, could not be taken—and, like a great Vine,
clad its natural slenderness and poorness of build with wealth of
bright green leafage and clustered fruitage. The nicety and daintiness
of workmanship, the involute and nevertheless firmly-completed and
manifested imagery of "Nosce Teipsum" wherewith this nicety and
daintiness are wrought, place Sir John Davies artistically among the
finest of our Poets. Southey wrote decisively on this:—"Sir John
Davies and Sir William Davenant, avoiding equally the opposite faults
of too artificial and too careless a style, wrote in numbers which, for
precision and clearness, and felicity and strength, have never been
surpassed." For 'felicity' I should have said 'flexibility.'[50]
Again our examples of the mastery and perfection of workmanship must be
brief; but take these:—
"Nor can her wide imbracements fillèd bee;
For they that most, and greatest things embrace,
Inlarge thereby their minds' capacitie,
As streames inlarg'd, inlarge the channel's space.
All things receiu'd, doe such proportion take,
As those things haue, wherein they are receiu'd:
So little glasses little faces make,
And narrow webs on narrow frames be weau'd;
Then what vast body must we make the mind
Wherin are men, beasts, trees, towns, seas, and lands;
And yet each thing a proper place doth find,
And each thing in the true proportion stands?
Doubtlesse this could not bee, but that she turnes
Bodies to spirits, by sublimation strange;
As fire conuerts to fire the things it burnes
As we our meats into our nature change.
From their grosse matter she abstracts the formes,
And draws a kind of quintessence from things;
Which to her proper nature she transformes,
To bear them light on her celestiall wings:
This doth she, when, from things particular,
She doth abstract the universall kinds;
Which bodilesse and immateriall are,
And can be lodg'd but onely in our minds:
And thus from diuers accidents and acts,
Which doe within her obseruation fall,
She goddesses, and powers diuine, abstracts:
As Nature, Fortune, and the Vertues all." (pp. 42-44.)
Again:—
Are they not sencelesse then, that thinke the Soule
Nought but a fine perfection of the Sense;
Or of the formes which fancie doth enroule,
A quicke resulting, and a consequence?
What is it then that doth the Sense accuse,
Both of false judgements, and fond appetites?
What makes vs do what Sense doth most refuse?
Which oft in torment of the Sense delights?
Sense thinkes the planets, spheares not much asunder;
What tels vs then their distance is so farre?
Sense thinks the lightning borne before the thunder;
What tels vs then they both together are?
When men seem crows far off vpon a towre,
Sense saith, th'are crows; what makes vs think them men?
When we in agues, thinke all sweete things sowre,
What makes vs know our tongue's false iudgement then?
What power was that, whereby Medea saw,
And well approu'd, and prais'd the better course,
When her rebellious Sense did so withdraw
Her feeble powers, as she pursu'd the worse?
Did Sense perswade Vlisses not to heare
The mermaid's songs, which so his men did please;
As they were all perswaded, through the eare
To quit the ship, and leape into the seas?
Could any power of Sense the Romane moue,
To burn his own right hand with courage stout?
Could Sense make Marius sit vnbound, and proue
The cruell lancing of the knotty gout?
Doubtlesse in Man there is a nature found,
Beside the Senses, and aboue them farre;
'Though most men being in sensuall pleasures drownd,
'It seems their Soules but in their Senses are.'
If we had nought but Sense, then onely they
Should haue sound minds, which haue their Senses sound;
But Wisdome growes, when Senses doe decay,
And Folly most in quickest Sense is found.
If we had nought but Sense, each liuing wight,
Which we call brute, would be more sharp then we;
As hauing Sense's apprehensiue might,
In a more cleere, and excellent degree.
But they doe want that quicke discoursing power,
Which doth in vs the erring Sense correct;
Therefore the bee did sucke the painted flower,
And birds, of grapes, the cunning shadow, peckt.
Sense outsides knows; the Soule throgh al things sees;
Sense, circumstance; she, doth the substance view;
Sense sees the barke, but she, the life of trees;
Sense heares the sounds, but she, the concords true. (pp. 35-38.)
Once more:—
I know my bodie's of so fraile a kind,
As force without, feauers within can kill;
I know the heauenly nature of my minde,
But 'tis corrupted both in wit and will:
I know my Soule hath power to know all things,
Yet is she blinde and ignorant in all;
I know I am one of Nature's little kings,
Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.
I know my life's a paine and but a span,
I know my Sense is mockt with euery thing:
And to conclude, I know my selfe a MAN,
Which is a proud, and yet a wretched thing. (p. 24.)
If the pathos and grandeur of Pascal be anticipated in
these lines, Pope has certainly appropriated Davies'
favourite metaphor of the 'spider.' Witness the Sense
of Feeling illustrated:—
Much like a subtill spider, which doth sit
In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide;
If ought doe touch the vtmost thred of it,
Shee feeles it instantly on euery side. (p. 70).
So in the Essay of Man:—
"The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine,
Feels at each thread, and lives along the line."
Another now familiar 'metaphor' also occurs in "Nosce Teipsum":—
"Heere Sense's apprehension, end doth take;
As when a stone is into water cast,
One circle doth another circle make,
Till the last circle touch the banke at last." (p. 72.)
These two characteristics, viz., (1) deep and original thinking,
(2) perfection of workmanship, or mastery of an extremely difficult
stanza—embrace that in "Nosce Teipsum," regarded broadly, which
I am anxious to have the Reader recognize and 'prove' for himself.
Subsidiary to them is one other thing—not shared with many of
our Poets and therefore demanding specific statement—viz. its
condensation throughout. Hallam and Craik have called attention to
this; and the student cannot fail to be struck with it. It is not
simply that the stanzas are as so many rings of gold each complete in
itself—much as Proverbs are—but that whether it be idea or opinion or
metaphor there is no beating of it out, as though yards of gold-leaf
or tin-foil were more valuable than the relatively small solid ore
that has been so manipulated: or the common mistake of imagining that
a pound of feathers is heavier than a pound of lead. From Dean Donne
until now "comparisons are odious." Nevertheless when one recalls
the attenuated thought and the blatant verbiage of not a few of our
Poets, this resolute sifting out of everything extraneous is not less
noticeable than commendable. It assures us that the Poet was conscious
of his resources—of his unused wealth of thought and imagination and
fancies. He who compacts his carbon into a Koh-i-noor has infinite
supplies of it. Similarly a Poet who could and did so lavishly add
great thought to great thought and vivid metaphor to vivid metaphor,
and still go on adding in smallest possible compass, declares his
intellect to be of the highest. I take two stanzas as illustrative
equally of condensed thought and condensed metaphor concerning our
First Parents:—
When their reasons eye was sharpe and cleare,
And (as an eagle can behold the sunne)
Could haue approcht th' Eternall Light as neare,
As the intellectuall angels could haue done:
Euen then to them the Spirit of Lyes suggests
That they were blind, because they saw not ill;
And breathes into their incorrupted brests
A curious wish, which did corrupt their will.
Your Rhetorician-poet would have expatiated on his 'Eagle' through
a hundred lines. Your mere Metaphysician would have entangled
himself with distinctions between 'wish' and 'will' endlessly.
Similarly how succinctly memorable is this of man's un-willinghood
to know himself—every stanza a perfect circle but all the circles
interlinked:—
We study Speech but others we perswade;
We leech-craft learne, but others cure with it;
We interpret lawes, which other men haue made,
But reade not those which in our hearts are writ.
Is it because the minde is like the eye,
Through which it gathers knowledge by degrees—
Whose rayes reflect not, but spread outwardly:
Not seeing it selfe when other things it sees?
No, doubtlesse; for the mind can backward cast
Vpon her selfe, her vnderstanding light;
But she is so corrupt, and so defac't,
As her owne image doth her selfe affright.
As in the fable of the Lady faire,
Which for her lust was turnd into a cow;
When thirstie to a streame she did repaire,
And saw her selfe transform'd she wist not how:
At first she startles, then she stands amaz'd,
At last with terror she from thence doth flye;
And loathes the watry glasse wherein she gaz'd,
And shunnes it still, though she for thirst doe die:
Euen so Man's Soule which did God's image beare,
And was at first faire, good, and spotlesse pure;
Since with her sinnes her beauties blotted were,
Doth of all sights her owne sight least endure:
For euen at first reflection she espies,
Such strange chimeraes, and such monsters there;
Such toyes, such antikes, and such vanities,
As she retires, and shrinkes for shame and feare.
And as the man loues least at home to bee,
That hath a sluttish house haunted with spirits;
So she impatient her owne faults to see,
Turnes from her selfe and in strange things delites.
For this few know themselues: for merchants broke
View their estate with discontent and paine;
And seas are troubled, when they doe reuoke
Their flowing waues into themselues againe. (pp. 20-22.)
How daintily-put and how divinely ennobled by the sacred reference
is this of the soul's yearning after that higher ideal that is ever
receding horizon-like to our vision:—
Then as a bee which among weeds doth fall,
Which seeme sweet flowers, with lustre fresh and gay;
She lights on that, and this, and tasteth all,
But pleasd with none, doth rise, and soare away;
So, when the Soule finds here no true content,
And, like Noah's doue, can no sure footing take;
She doth returne from whence she first was sent,
And flies to Him that first her wings did make. (p. 87)
For condensed and close-packed thought and imagery the 'Reasons' for
the 'Immortalitie of the Soule' (pp. 83-99) are not to be equalled
anywhere.
We may not linger over "Nosce Teipsum." Passing to the "Hymnes to
Astræa" and "Orchestra, or a Poeme of Dauncing" while they have the
same characteristics with "Nosce Teipsum," they yet suggest another
characteristic in Davies as a Poet—unexpectedness of brilliant and
great things. You count on the Lark's up-springing and the Lark's
idyllic song, if you are traversing its bladed or daisied possession;
but you are startled if it rise from the mired or dusty street or
the inodorous slum. You look for the eagle when you have climbed
Shehallion and other Highland mountain fastnesses; but suppose it
were to flap out upon you as you paced into your semi-suburban villa.
So in "Nosce Teipsum," as seen, deep thought perfectly worked is what
knowing the Poet you look for therein; but even in "Hymnes to Astræa"
and "Orchestra" you very soon discover that it is still the Poet of
"Nosce Teipsum" who sings. The moods of thought are airier and more
vivacious substantively, but the thinking and shaping and colouring of
imagination is the same; and 'unexpected' is really the word that
seems to me to express the out-flashing of the higher faculty. Turning
to the "Hymnes to Astræa," how exquisite are the fancy and the flattery
of Hymne V., "To the Larke," as she is wooed by the Poet-Courtier to be
his minstrel to 'sing' of Elizabeth. You do not for a moment feel the
'artificial restraint' of the margin-letters that go to form Elizabetha
Regina:—
Earley, cheerfull, mounting Larke,
Light's gentle vsher, Morning's clark,
In merry notes delighting;
Stint awhile thy song, and harke,
And learn my new inditing.
Beare vp this hymne, to heau'n it beare,
Euen vp to heau'n, and sing it there,
To heau'n each morning beare it;
Haue it set to some sweet sphere,
And let the Angels heare it.
Renownd Astræa, that great name,
Exceeding great in worth and fame,
Great worth hath so renownd it;
It is Astræa's name I praise,
Now then, sweet Larke, do thou it raise,
And in high Heauen resound it. (p. 133.)
Meet companion to this is Hymne VII., "To the Rose:"—
Eye of the Garden, Queene of flowres,
Love's cup wherein he nectar powres,
Ingendered first of nectar;
Sweet nurse-child of the Spring's young howres,
And Beautie's faire character.
Best iewell that the Earth doth weare,
Euen when the braue young sunne draws neare,
To her hot Loue pretending;
Himselfe likewise like forme doth beare,
At rising and descending.
Rose of the Queene of Loue belou'd;
England's great Kings diuinely mou'd,
Gave Roses in their banner;
It shewed that Beautie's Rose indeed,
Now in this age should them succeed,
And raigne in more sweet manner. (p. 135.)
That the large and intense homage of Davies (among his illustrious
contemporaries), in these "Hymnes" was genuine not simulated,
spontaneous not mercenary, the apostrophe to Envy protests. With an
echo of the old 'exegi monumentum' or reminiscence of Shakespeare's
then not long published Sonnets, he thus writes:—
Enuy, goe weepe; my Muse and I
Laugh thee to scorne; thy feeble eye
Is dazeled with the glory
Shining in this gay poesie,
And little golden story.
Behold how my proud quill doth shed
Eternall nectar on her head;
The pompe of coronation
Hath not such power her fame to spread,
As this my admiration.
Respect my pen as free and franke
Expecting not reward nor thanke,
Great wonder onely moues it;
I never made it mercenary,
Nor should my Muse this burthen carrie
As hyr'd, but that she loues it. (p. 154.)
Then in "Orchestra" you are again and again reminded that, mere sport
of wit though it be, "suddaine, rash, half-capreol of my wit," as he
himself calls it to Martin (p. 159), it is a man of rare genius who
sports. So much so that ever and anon you perceive, as Cleopatra of her
Anthony:
———"his delights
Were dolphin-like; they show'd his tack above
The element they lived in." (v. 2.)
That is, even among the trivialities about 'Dauncing' and the
frivolities of laudation, you are re-called to grander things—as in
the Summer one sees breaks of blue in the over-arching sky above some
miserable Pick-nick party desecrating some glorious forest-dell. I cull
two out of manifold examples of the unexpectedness that I now wish to
point out—as thus of the antiquity yet vitality of 'Dauncing':—
"Thus doth it equall age with age inioy,
And yet in lustie youth for euer flowers;
Like loue his sire, whom Paynters make a boy,
Yet is the eldest of the heau'nly powers;
Or like his brother Time, whose wingèd howers
Going and comming will not let him dye,
But still preserve him in his infancie." (p. 169.)
That is 'brilliant' but this is 'great,' indeed magnificent, of the
Sea:—
"Loe the Sea that fleets about the Land,
And like a girdle clips her solide waist,
Musicke and measure both doth vnderstand;
For his great chrystall eye is always cast
Vp to the Moone, and on her fixèd fast;
And as she daunceth in her pallid spheere,
So daunceth he about her Center heere." (p. 179.)
I know not where, outside of Milton, to match that personification of
the Sea, with its "great chrystall eye"; and 'palid' is as tenderly
delicate as the other is grand. Coleridge must have carried it in his
omniverous memory, for surely one of the most memorable of the stanzas
in his "Ancient Mariner" drew its inspiration thence, as thus:—
"Still as a slave before his lord,
The ocean hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the Moon is cast—
If he may know which way to go;
For she guides him smooth or grim.
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him." (Pt. VI.)
At this point it may interest some to read Sir John Harington's welcome
to the Poet on the publication of 'Orchestra', thus:—
Of Master John Dauies Booke of Dancing. To Himselfe.
While you the Planets all doe set to dancing,
Beware such hap, as to the Fryer was chancing:
Who preaching in a Pulpit old and rotten,
Among some notes, most fit to be forgotten:
Vnto his Auditory thus he vaunts,
To make all Saints after his pype to dance:
It speaking, which as he himselfe aduances,
To act his speech with gestures, lo, it chances,
Downe fals the Pulpit, sore the man is brusèd,
Neuer was Fryer and Pulpit more abusèd.
Then beare with me, though yet to you a stranger,
To warne you of the like, nay greater danger.
For though none feare the falling of those sparkes,
(And when they fall, t'will be good catching Larkes)
Yet this may fall, that while you dance and skip,
With female Planets, sore your foote may trip,
That in your lofty Caprioll and turne
Their motion may make your dimension burne." (Epigrams, Book II. 67.)
I am tempted to further critical examination of this very remarkable
Poetry; but feel constrained by already transgressed limits to withhold
them for the present. But I must say something on the Epigrams
and Minor Poems. I have 'compunctious visitings' in re-publishing
them, even though they have been included by Dyce and by Colonel
Cunningham in their successive editions of Marlowe. In my Note (Vol.
II., pp. 3-6), I give bibliographical and other details concerning
these Epigrams; and I correct a mis-assignation of certain by Dyce
to Davies that belong to Henry Hutton. It must be conceded that the
Epigrams have dashes of the roughness, even coarseness, of the age.
They self-drevealingly belong to the wild-oats sowing of the Poet's
youthful period. Nevertheless, I have ventured their reproduction in
integrity for four reasons:—
(a) These Epigrams, from their subjects and style, are valuable, as
expressing the tone of society at the time.
(b) It would be suppressio veri to withhold them, toward an
accurate estimate of their Author. They furnish elements of judgment.
(c) They were what gained the Poet 'a name': even when tartly spoken
of by Guilpin he is called the 'English Martial' from them.
(d) These Epigrams belong to a section of our early Literature
that contemporaneously was abundant; and it were advantageous if
characteristics of particular periods were more recognised in literary
criticism.
Besides Guilpin, a very rare volume of early Verse by Ashmore,
furnishes a hitherto overlooked Epigram, wherein "Nosce Teipsum" and
the Epigrams, are noticed with well-put praise. I am fortunate enough
to be able to give it, which I do in its English form only, the Latin
being poor and inaccurate. It is inscribed "Ad D. Io. Davies, Milite
Iudicem Itinerium" and thus runs:—
"If Plato lived and saw those heaven-breathed Lines
Where thou the Essence of the Soule confines;
Or merry Martiale read thy Epigrammes,
Where sportingly, these looser times thou blames:
Though both excel, yet (in their severall wayes)
They both ore-come, would yeeld to thee the Prise."[51]
His name-sake, John Davies of Hereford similarly saluted him. His
'Lines' with others, will appear more fitly in the fuller 'Life.'
Meanwhile, as carrying within it, perhaps the most memorable
circumstance appertaining to these 'Epigrams,' I must ask attention
here, to one of Wordsworth's finest minor poems—his
"POWER OF MUSIC.
An Orpheus! an Orpheus! yes, Faith may grow bold,
And take to herself all the wonders of old;—
Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with the same,
In the street that from Oxford hath borrowed its name.
His station is there; and he works on the crowd,
He sways them with harmony merry and loud;
He fills with his power all their hearts to the brim—
Was aught ever heard like his fiddle and him?
What an eager assembly! what an empire is this!
The weary have life, and the hungry have bliss;
The mourner is cheered, and the anxious have rest;
And the guilt-burthened soul is no longer opprest.
As the Moon brightens round her the clouds of the night,
So He, where he stands, is a centre of light;
It gleams on the face, there, of the dusky-browed Jack,
And the pale-visaged Baker's, with basket on back.
That errand-bound 'Prentice was passing in haste—
What matter! he's caught—and his time runs to waste;
The Newsman is stopped, though he stops on the fret;
And the half-breathless Lamp-lighter—he's in the net!
The Porter sits down on the weight which he bore;
The Lass with her barrow wheels hither her store;—
If a thief could be here he might pilfer at ease;
She sees the Musician, 'tis all that she sees!
He stands, backed by the wall; he abates not his din;
His hat gives him vigour, with boons dropping in,
From the old and the young, from the poorest; and there!
The one-pennied Boy has his penny to spare.
O blest are the hearers, and proud be the hand
Of the pleasure it spreads through so thankful a band;
I am glad for him, blind as he is!—all the while
If they speak 'tis to praise, and they praise with a smile.
That tall Man, a giant in bulk and in height,
Not an inch of his body is free from delight;
Can he keep himself still, if he would? oh, not he!
The music stirs in him like wind through a tree.
Mark that Cripple who leans on his crutch; like a tower
That long has leaned forward, leans hour after hour!—
That Mother, whose spirit in fetters is bound,
While she dandles the Babe in her arms to the sound.
Now, coaches and chariots! roar on like a stream;
Here are twenty souls happy as souls in a dream:
They are deaf to your murmurs—they care not for you,
Nor what ye are flying, nor what ye pursue!
What is this but a glorified version of a portion of Epigram 38? Here
it is:—
"As doth the Ballad-singer's auditory,
Which hath at Temple-barre his standing chose,
And to the vulgar sings an Ale-house story:
First stands a Porter: then, an Oyster-wife
Doth stint her cry, and stay her steps to heare him;
Then comes a Cut-purse ready with a knife,
And then a Countrey-clyent passeth neare him;
There stands the Constable, there stands the whore,
And, listening to the Song, heed not each other;
There by the Serjeant stands the debitor,
And doth no more mistrust him than his brother:
Thus Orpheus to such hearers giveth musick
And Philo to such patients giveth physic."
Any charge of plagiarism were an outrage on Genius: but the coincidence
is remarkable. It is just possible that the later Poet may have found
the 'Epigrams' in his bookish friend Southey's library,
and that the rough lines lingered semi-unconsciously in his memory.
The earlier is to the later, as a photograph of the actual coarse
street-group to the idealizations of the Artist: nevertheless it has
its own interest and value, neither are the Characters ill-chosen, nor
without humour.
But on the other hand Davies, in his 47th Epigram, was no doubt
influenced by a remembrance of Sidney's 30th Stella sonnet. The
likeness as to the countries mentioned is remarkable.[52]
One flagrant appropriater of Davies' Epigrams must be nailed-up, in
the person of William Winstanley in his "The Muses Cabinet stored with
variety of Poems, both pleasant and profitable. London 1655." Thus we
read "On Rembombo":—
"Rembombo having spent all his estate
Went to the wars to prove more fortunate.
Being return'd, he speaks such warlike words,
No dictionary half the like affords:
He talks of flankers, gabions and scalados,
Of curtneys, parapets & palizados,
Retreats & triumphs & of carnisadoes,
Of sallies, halfe moones & of ambuscadoes:
I to requite the fustian termes he uses,
Reply with words belonging to the Muses;
As Spondes, Dactiles & Hexameters,
Stops, commas, accents, types, tropes, & pentameters,
Madrigalls, Epicediums, elegies,
Satyres, Iambicks, & Apostrophes,
Acrosticks, Aquiuoques, & epigrams:
Thus talking and being understood by neither,
We part wise as when we came together." (p. 43)
Let the Reader compare this with Davies' Epigram (Vol. II., p. 23-4).
Various others are similarly transmogrified; and John Heath also is
'spoiled' (in a double sense). Yet has Winstanley the impudence to
close his volume bitingly thus:—
"Cease Muse, here comes a criticke, close thy page,
These lines are not strong enough for this age;
The nice new-fangled readers of these times
Will scarcely relish thy plain country rimes."
The Minor Poems, not hitherto collected, will reward critical perusal.
Some of them are noticeable: quaint fancies, glances of wit and
wisdom, felicitous epithet, racy similes, aphoristic sayings, bird-like
notes of genuine music, and now and then, powerful sarcasm, will meet
the studious reader. The Hitherto Unpublished MSS., which
include, besides secular poems, his long vainly-sought Metaphrase
of certain Psalms, speak for themselves. And so I leave the Reader
to raise the lid of the casket of gems now put into his hands. It
demands robustness of brain and sensibilities of spirit to appreciate
adequately Sir John Davies as a Poet; but if, in all humility of
receptiveness and open-eyedness, these volumes be read, no one
competent can go away unimpressed. Whether as Thinker or Singer he must
be placed among the rare few who have enriched our highest Literature.
ALEXANDER B. GROSART.
POSTSCRIPT.
MINOR POEMS, ETC.
There are several things relative to the Minor Poems of Sir John Davies
that require statement and elucidation; and I deem it well to give such.
I. The Ten Sonnets to Philomel and Hymn to Music.
II. The Entertainment to Elizabeth at Harefield by the Countess of
Derby.
III. The Poem to King James 1st.
IV. Dacus not Samuel Daniel.
V. Marston and "Orchestra," &c.
VI. Hymnes to Astræa.
I. The Ten Sonnets to Philomel and Hymn to Music. In my Fuller
Worthies' Library edition of Davies, I admitted "Canzonet: a Hymne
in praise of Musick" among his Poems (pp. 297-9) because in the
"Rhapsody" it bore his initials I. D. precisely as his other accepted
pieces therein did. But I excluded the 'Ten Sonnets to Philomel' from
their having the signature originally of "Melophilus," and I. D. only
subsequently. I too hastily agreed with Sir Egerton Brydges (in his
edition of the "Rhapsody" 2 Vols., 1826) in assigning them to Dean
Donne. I could not discern Donne's manner in the 'Canzonet,' and so
had no difficulty in rejecting Brydges' alleged 'internal evidence' in
respect of it, initialled as it was. Neither did I find the 'internal
evidence' in the 'Ten Sonnets' for its Donne authorship, but, in
addition to the early signature "Melophilus," there was a note of
"Manuscripts to get" by Davison, from Donne, that has seemed to warrant
the "Ten Sonnets" being regarded as his contribution, and the later I.
D. as representing J[ohn] D[onne], and not Sir John Davies. My friend
Dr. Brinsley Nicholson has satisfied me that Davison's List of MSS.
to be received could not refer to his "Rhapsody," but to some other
intended work or private collection; and so the one point in favour
of Donne falls to the ground. The evidence as communicated to myself,
and since, in a lengthy communication to the Athenæum (January 22d,
1876), may be thus summarized, (1) There is nothing in Davison's
notings which even hints that he was thinking of the "Rhapsody." (2)
The greater number of the MSS. mentioned never appeared even by a
specimen in the "Rhapsody." (3) The second entry is of
| "Sports, Masks, and Entertainments to ye | { late Queen |
| { the King," &c. |
Therefore it was written in or after 1603. But the first edition of
the "Rhapsody" containing the "Hymn to Music" signed I. D., and the
"Ten Sonnets" signed "Melophilus," and in the subsequent editions I.
D., was published in 1602, (4) There is not in the subsequent editions
a single piece by any of these memorandum-noted authors that is not in
the first—so shewing further that the memorandum had no reference to
the "Rhapsody." Of Donne and Constable there are in the editions 1608,
1611, 1621, only those given in 1602, and in no edition at all is there
a single specimen of Ben Jonson, Hodgson, Harington, Joseph Hall, &c.,
&c. There remains thus only (5). The I. D. evidence, e.g.:
| | 1602. | 1608. | 1611. | 1621. |
| Hymn | I. D. | I. D. | I. D. | Unsigned. |
| Sonnets Melophilus. | I. D. | I. D. | I. D. |
| 12 Wonders} | Not | John Dauis | Sir John Dauis | Sir John Davies |
| Lottery} | in | I. D. | I. D. | Sir I. D. |
| Contention} | 1st edn. | Jonn Dauis | Sir John Dauis. | Unsigned. |
Absence hear this my protestation. Unsigned in all four editions.
That two are unsigned in the 1621 edition is probably due to omission
made during the thorough re-distribution of the pieces into books of
Odes, &c., &c. Further (6) the "Hymn to Music" and the "Ten Sonnets"
follow consecutively, and are the very first among the "pieces by
sundry others." So in editions of 1608 and 1611 the "Twelve Wonders,"
"Lottery," and "Contention" are the first of the new pieces, in
fact, open the book and follow one another successively in a group of
three—John Dauis—I. D.—John Davies. (7) We gather from inspection
of the "Table" that (a) the "Lottery," I. D., is John Davies; (b)
that Davison put I. D. after the "Lottery," knowing that he had already
appropriated I. D. to the author of the "Hymne;" and what is more, he
chose to put I. D. to the "Lottery" just when he associated the "Ten
Sonnets" with I. D. and John Davies' poems by altering Melophilus to
I. D.; (c) at the same time he left "Absence hear," &c., unsigned;
(d) what has been said under (5) and (6) suggests that Davies was a
personal friend of Davison's, and this is strengthened by there being
no MS. of Davies noted as "to get." If so, Davison was still less
likely to use ambiguous initials for anything by Davies. Once more (8)
When we add to this that the "Hymne" must go with the "Ten Sonnets" and
that it is clearly by the author of "Orchestra"; and that neither the
"Hymne" nor the "Ten Sonnets" appear in any collection of Donne's poems
printed or in MS. the external evidence in favour of Sir John Davies
as author of the work is as strong as it well can be. Internally the
student of "Orchestra" and the "Hymnes to Astræa" will readily see the
"fine Roman hand" that wrote them in the "Hymne to Music" and related
"Ten Sonnets to Philomel." There is none of the style, or conceits, or
wording, or rhythm of Donne. I add finally (9) If the "Ten Sonnets to
Philomel" were based on real love experiences, we can understand how
at first at any rate the disguise of "Melophilus" might be preferred
to I. D. It does not seem probable that they were addressed to her who
became his wife. In accord with all this both the "Hymne to Music" and
the "Ten Sonnets to Philomel" are now included among Sir John Davies's
Poems (Vol. ii. pp. 96-106.)
II. The Entertainment to Elizabeth at Harefield by the Countess of
Derby. In the foot-notes to the "Lottery," (Vol. II., pp. 87-94)
several variations from Manningham's "Diary" are accepted as decided
improvements, especially those in VII., XIX.,
and XXI., which were probably taken from a revised or
autograph MS. That Manningham had full information on the "Lottery"
is proved by the list he gives of the persons to whom the 'lots'
went, viz., I., To hir Mtie. III. La[dy]
Scroope. XXVII. La[dy] Scudamore. VI. Lady Francis.
VII. Earle of Darby's countes. VIII. Lady Southwell,
II. Countess of Darby dowager: [the Lord Keeper's wife].
XII. Countess of Kildare. XIII. La[dy] Effingham.
XIX. La[dy] Newton. XXI. Not named. XXII.
La[dy] Warwike. XXV. La[dy] Dorothy. XXXIII. La[dy]
Susan ... XXXII. La[dy] Kidderminster. XXXI. Blank.
But there remains an interesting question to be settled, viz., the
date of this "Lottery." Nichols, apparently on the sole authority of
the "Rhapsody," gives it to a visit to the Lord Keeper's town-house
[York House] in 1601; and assigns it to York House because Sir Thomas
Egerton did not buy Harefield till 1602, and clearly by the speeches
in the "Entertainment" the Queen had never been there before August,
1602. But the "Rhapsody" date is a slip of Davison's pen or of his
printer for 1602, and the "Lottery" took place at Harefield as part of
the "Entertainment." Notices in the "Lottery" itself guide us to this
conclusion, e.g., it was about August, for in Lot 22 we read:—
"'Tis Summer yet,...
But 'twill be winter one day, doubt you not."
and the visit to Harefield was in August. Then there is this to
be noted that the masquer is "A Mariner ... supposed to come from
the Carrick." Let 'the' be marked 'the Carrick.' The allusion is
historical. The Queen sent out Sir Richard Levison (or Lawson) and Sir
William Morrison on 19th and 26th March, 1602 to intercept the plate
fleet and do any other damage along the Spanish coast. They did not
get the Fleet and were wholly unsuccessful till 1st June, when they
came upon an immense 'carrick' from the East Indies of 1,600 tons
flanked on one side by a castle and on the other by eleven Spanish and
Portugese galleys. On the 2nd the admirals with five men of war and
two merchantmen Easterlings, beat the gallies and silenced the castle,
and on the 3rd the carrick surrendered with a cargo estimated by the
Portugese at a million of ducats. Our killed in this brilliant exploit
was six seamen (see Camden's Annals and Monson's Naval Tracts). This
proves that the Verses were vers d'occasion. We have 'the carrick'
and Cynthia who sent forth Fortune to the sea, and many a "jewel and a
gem" brought, and Fortune so commanded
———"as makes me now to sing
There is no fishing to the sea, no service to the King."
Further, the Queen writing to Lord Mountjoy (Deputy to Ireland) 15th
July 1602 says "... first to assure you that we have sent a fleet
to the coast of Spain, notwithstanding our former fleet returned
with the Carrick," which shows two things (1) That Lawson and Monson
had returned prior to the 15th of July (2) that the Queen had sent
out another fleet at once; and thus Davies' verses were the more
appropriate as being not only a remembrance of good luck but an
anticipation of continued good fortune.
These proofs of date which require no confirmation are confirmed by
this, that Manningham after the "Lottery," and on the same leaf,
gives a "dialogue betweene the bayly and a dairy mayd" before "her
Mtis coming to the house," quoting a sentence from it as found in the
"Entertainment." This leads me to state why I have given the entire
"Entertainment" to Sir John Davies. It certainly is contrary to natural
expectation that the "Lottery" verses are not introduced into the
"Entertainment," and but for other considerations the inference might
have been that only the "Lottery" was by Davies, and the rest by some
other. But there is this explanation of the absence of the "Lottery"
verses, that evidently they formed part of the amusement of one of
the rainy days—for it was a wet St. Swithin—when the speeches
and other things of the "Entertainment" took place without doors,
and distinct from the "Lottery." Then on reading the "Entertainment"
itself, there are manifold marks that the whole came from one pen,
and that pen Davies's; for throughout there is likeness of style and
thought to his avowed writings. Take these few examples: (1) "If thou
knewest the cause, thou wouldst not wonder; for I stay to entertaine
the Wonder of this time," &c. ("Entertainment," &c., Vol. II., pp.
249-50.) Cf. this with "Orchestra" st. 120, "wonder of posteritie"
(i.e., of her own time): (2) "The Guest that wee are to entertaine doth
fill all places with her divine vertues, as the Sunne fills the World
with the light of his beames." (Ibid, p. 250). Cf. Hymnes to Astræa,
XIV., stanza 2:—
"Behold her in her vertues' beames,
Extending sun-like to all realities."
Again, XV., st. 1:—
"Eye of that mind most quicke and cleere,—
Like Heaven's eye, which from his spheare
Into all things prieth;
Sees through all things euery where,
And all their natures trieth."
(3) "Though her selfe shall eclipse her soe much, as to suffer her
brightness to bee shadowed in this obscuere and narrow Place, yet the
sunne beames that follow her, the traine I meane that attends vpon her,
must, by the necessitie of this Place, be deuided from her." (Ibid,
p. 251). Cf. XIX., st. 1:—
"Eclipsed she is, and her bright rayes,
Lie under vailes, yet many wayes
Is her faire forme reuealed."
'Beams' and 'sunbeams' are favourite words with Davies: so too
'mirror.' (4) "Time weare very vngratefull, if it should not euer stand
still, to serue and preserue, cherish and delight her, that is the
glory of her time, and makes the Time happy wherein she liueth" (Ibid
p. 251). Cf. II. st. 3, ll. 1-3.
"Right glad am I that now I live:
Even in these days whereto you give
Great happiness and glory."
(5) "What if she make thee a contynewell holy-day, she makes me [Place]
a perpetuall sanctuary" (Ibid p. 251). Cf. IV., st. 1:—
"Each day of time, sweet moneth of May,
Love makes a solemne holy-day."
(6) "Doth not the presence of a Prince make a Cottage a Court, and the
presence of the Gods make euery place Heaven?" (Ibid pp. 251-2). Cf.
Dedication of "Nosce Teipsum":—
"Stay long (sweet spirit) ere thou to Heauen depart,
Which makest each place a heauen wherein thou art."
In the Verse (pp. 253-4) there are abundant parallels. I must content
myself with references. With the 1st stanza
"Beauties rose, and vertues booke, &c."
compare Hymnes to Astræa VII., st. 3: XVII., st. 2-3 and the
"Contention" (ad. fin.) and XIII. st. 2: XV. st. 2. Also IV. last 2
lines: VII. st. 3. ll. 1-3: X. last 4 lines. Similar results are found
on a comparison of the "Entertainment" with the "Dialogue between a
Gentleman Usher and a Poet" (Fuller Worthies' Library edn. of Davies'
Poems: pp. 15-21.)
I have accordingly given the whole "Entertainment" as belonging to
Sir John Davies. It is to be regretted that the Satyrs Verses are
unaccompanied by the rest of the Masque to which apparently they
belong. Harefield has the further light of glory on it of having been
the scene of Milton's "Arcades" and of the famous elm-aisle celebrated
by him in imperishable verse. The Countess of Derby, afterwards the
Lord Keeper's third wife, was the early friend of Spenser and of
Milton, and of all her eminent literary contemporaries.[53]
III. "Yet other Twelve Wonders of the World." In foot-note (Vol. II.,
p. 67) I promise an account of an autograph MS. of this characteristic
set of verses. It finds more fitting place here than in the Preface.
The MS. is preserved at Downing College, Cambridge, and having been
described on p. 325 of the "Third Report of the Historical MSS.
Commissioners," Mr. Beedham, (as before) was kind enough to make a
literatim transcript for me (with the permission of the College
authorities). The MS. is headed "Verses giuen to the L. Treasurer vpon
Newyeares day vpon a dosen of Trenchers by Mr. Davis." In the margin
against "The Lawyer," in the same handwriting as the Verses, is this:
"This is misplaced, it should be before the physisn," and similarly
against "The Country Gentleman," also in the same handwriting, is:
"This is misplaced, in the original it is before the mr chant."
There is nothing to give any clue as to the precise New Year's day upon
which the Verses were furnished to the Lord Treasurer; but unless I
very much mistake, they were the "cobweb" of his "inuention" enclosed
in that letter which Mr. J. Payne Collier supposed to have gone with a
gift-copy of "Nosce Teipsum." The letter speaks for itself:—
"Mr. Hicks. I have sent you heer inclosed that cobweb of my
invention which I promised before Christmas: I pray you present
it, commend it, and grace it, as well for your owne sake as mine:
bycause by your nominacion I was first put to this taske, for which
I acknowledge my self beholding to you in good earnest, though the
imployment be light and trifling, because I am glad of any occasion
of being made knowne to that noble gentl. whom I honore and admire
exceedingly. If ought be to be added, or alter'd; lett me heare from
you. I shall willingly attend to doo it, the more speedily if it
be before the terme. So in haste I commend my best service to you.
Chancery Lane, 20 Jan. 1600. Yours to do you service very willingly,
Jo. Davys." (Bibl. Account, V. I., pp. 193-4; no specification of
source beyond S. P. O.)
The handwriting of the copy in Downing College belongs to the close
of the 16th or to the earliest years of the 17th century. The second
marginal note above would seem to show that the transcript was made
from the original, then perhaps being circulated from hand to hand.
Specimens of variations may interest. In "The Courtier," l. 1, for
'liu'd' the MS. reads 'serued': l. 4, "from them that fall" for "such
as fall": l. 5, "my" for "a rich array": in the "Divine," l. 1, "one
cure doth me contente" for "and I from God am sent": l. 3, "true kinde"
for "kind true": l. 5, "Nor followe princes' Courts" for "Much wealth
I will not seeke ": "The Souldier," l. 6, "brag" for "boast": "The
Physitian," l. 1, "prolonge" for "vphold" and "life" for "state": l. 2,
"I" for "me" (bis): l. 6, "time & youth" for "youth and time": "The
Lawyer," l. 1, "My practice is the law" for "the Law my calling is":
ll. 5-6,
"Some say I haue good gifts, and love where I doe take
Yet never tooke I fee, but I advisd or spake,"
for
"Nor counsell did bewray, nor of both parties take,
Nor euer tooke I fee for which I neuer spake."
"The Merchant" l. 2, "vnknowne worlds ... kingdomes doth" for "unknowne
coasts ... countries to": "The Married Man," l. 4, "choise" for
"chance": "The Wife," l. 1, "my" for "our": l. 2, "Thither am I ...
where firste" for "I thither am ... from whence": l. 3,
"I goe not maskd abroad to visit, when I do
My secrets I bewray to none but one or two,"
for
"I doe not visite oft, nor many, when I doe,
I tell my mind to few, and that in counsell too."
"The Widowe" l. 1, "dyinge" is inserted here before "husband": l.
3, "love" for "haue": l. 6, "Nor richer then I am, nor younger would
I seeme" for "Nor younger then I am, nor richer will I seeme": "The
Maide," l. 4, "of" for "on": l. 5, "but" for "yet." These embrace all
save orthographical and other slight variants. As derived from an
authentic autograph MS. the Downing College copy is interesting and
its variants serve further to illustrate the letter to Hicks wherein
Davies expresses his willingness to make any changes—which alone
might have led Mr. Collier to see that he could not possibly refer to
"Nosce Teipsum," which was then published.
IV. Dacus not Samuel Daniel. Turning to Epigrams 30 and 45 (pp.
30, 45) the reader will find in Dyce's note to the latter that he
identified 'Dacus' with Daniel, and the passage whereon he based the
identification. I passed his note though not at all satisfied with
the parallel of "dumb eloquence" to the Epigram's "silent eloquence."
Epigram 30 points rather to a rhymster of the John Taylor Water-Poet
type, and if one had patience to make the search "silent eloquence"
should doubtless be found in one or other of his many books—clumsily
appropriated from Sir Philip Sidney. Then the "dumb eloquence" of the
Complaint of Rosamond which Dyce quotes, was to the King not "to his
Mistress"—even if it were what the Epigram hints "silent eloquence."
En passant the phrases and variants on it was one of the aped phrases
of the gallants and poetasters of the day. Jonson who disliked Daniel,
ridicules the stanza in a way that informs us it was affected by them.
Griffin in his Fidessa also has it in his "dumb message of my hidden
grief." Further: Davies of Hereford in his "Scourge of Folly" who must
have known his namesake's use of Dacus calls him Dacus the pot-poet
and speaks as much against his character as our Davies does against his
rhymes—all of which was curiously inapplicable to Samuel Daniel. At
the time Davies of Hereford wrote Daniel was a gentleman of the Queen's
bed-chamber. Lastly—and conclusively—Sir John Davies praises three
English poets in his "Orchestra" (Elizabethan edn.) of whom one is
Daniel:—
"O that I could old Gefferie's Muse awake
Or borrow Colin's fayre heroike stile,
Or smooth my rimes with Delia's servant's file."
(Vol. I. p. 212). It is a pleasure to be able to vindicate Sir John
Davies from abuse of so genuine a Poet-contemporary as Daniel, and
Daniel from so weighty an adverse judgment, had it really been
Davies's. To the same good friend who has so helped me elsewhere—Dr.
Brinsley Nicholson—I owe thanks for these too-long-delayed corrections.
V. Marston and 'Orchestra.' But if Harrington and Davies of Hereford
praised, there were others who had their jeers at Orchestra, e.g. John
Marston in his 11th Satire of his Scourge of Villanie, in ridiculing
the gallant who thinks of nothing but dancing, as he afterwards does
Luscus, who talks of nothing but Plays, and vents only play-scraps,
says (1599).
"Who ever heard spruce skipping Curio
Ere prate of ought but of the whirle on toe.
Praise but Orchestra, and the skipping art,
You shall command him, faith you have his hart
Even capring in your fist."
Then there follows (meo judicio) a reminiscence or two of the poem
itself, and a laugh at the "worthy poet." Thus in 'Orchestra,' st. 59,
we have
"According to the musicke of the spheres,"
and st. 60,
"And imitate the starres cælestiall."
and st. 71, speaking of Castor and Pollux:
"Where both are carried with an equall pace
Together iumping in their turning race,"
and where, though 'iumping' is of course used in the sense not of our
'jumping' (leaping) but in that of equal or agreeing, as in "jump where
may find Cassio," or as where the folio (I. 1) has "just as this same
hour" the 4o Hamlet has "jump at this dead hour"; yet it has for the
context an unlucky sound and association. Hence Marston wickedly and
waggishly continues:
"A hall, a hall
Roome for the spheres, the orbs celestiall
Will daunce Kemps jigge; they'le revel with neate jumps;
A worthy poet hath put on their pumps.
O wits quick traverse but sance ceo's slowe,
Good faith 'tis hard for nimble Curio.
Ye gracious orbes, keepe the old measuring
All's spoilde if once yee fall to capering."
VI. Hymnes to Astræa. I adhere to Sir John Davies' own form of
Astraea in the collective edition of 1621. Doubtless he and the Printer
meant it for "æ' not 'œ' inasmuch as besides Astraea's mythological
reign in the golden age over a people that became too wicked for her,
she became the constellation Virgo, as celebrated, among others, by
Barnfield in his Cynthia.[54] The whole of Hy. I. shows this, where
the flattery was specially apt to the subject on account of making
Astraea the daughter of Aurora: and so Hy. V. of the Lark: and Hy. XXI.
A. B. G.