A plague to him, who'd be a plague to me.
I value quiet at a price too great,

To give for my revenge so dear a rate:
For what do we by all our bustle gain,
But counterfeit delight for real pain?

If Heaven

date of many years would give,
Thus I'd in pleasure, ease, and plenty live.
And as I near approach'd the verge of life,
Some kind relation (for I'd have no wife)
Should take upon him all my worldly care,
Whilst I did for a better state prepare.
Then I'd not be with any trouble vex'd,
Nor have the evening of my days perplex'd;
But by a silent and a peaceful death,
Without a sigh, resign my aged breath.
And when committed to the dust, I'd have
Few tears, but friendly, dropt into my grave.
Then would my exit so propitious be,

All men would wish to live and die like me.

JORN

PHILIP S.

OHN PHILIPS wurde den 3osten Dezember 1676 geboren. Er besuchte die Schule zu Winchester, erwarb sich hier bei seinen ausgezeichneten Talenten gute Kenntnisse, vorzüglich in der Griechischen und Lateinischen Sprache, und bezog 1694 das Christ-Church - College zu Oxford. Hier setzte er die Lektüre der Alten fort, kultivirtè sein dichterisches Genie vornehmlich durch das Studium der Werke Milton's, vernachlässigte indessen auch nicht die andern Wissenschaften; am meisten zog ihn Naturgeschichte überhaupt, und Botanik insonderheit an sich: 1703 machte er das Gedicht the Splen 'did Shilling bekannt, und dieses verschaffte ihm einen solchen Ruf, dafs St. John (nachmaliger Lord Viscount Boling broke) und die Tories ihm den Auftrag gaben, ein Gedicht auf den Sieg zu Blenheim zu schreiben, wahrscheinlich als Gegenstück zu dem von Addison, zu welchem Halifax und die Whigs Veranlassung gegeben hatten. Blenheim unsers Dichters erschien 1705, und selbst die

Das

Freunde von Addison's Campaign gaben zu, dafs dasselbe erträglich sey. 1706 erschien sein gröfstes Werk the Cider, ein Lehrgedicht in zwei Gesängen, zu welchem er bereits zu Oxford den Plan entworfen hatte, den er nachmals zu London ausführte. Dusch, im ersten Theile der Briefe zur Bil dung des Geschmacks S, 158, tadelt an demselben, dafs es einige Episoden enthalte, die von dem Gedicht selbst ohne Schaden getrennt werden könnten; er läfst indessen dem dogmatischen Theile desselben vollkommene Gerechtigkeit wiederfahren. Eben darauf läuft auch das Urtheil seines neusten Biographen Anderson hinaus, welcher von diesem Lehrgedicht sagt: It was read with universal approbation, as an imitation of Virgil's Georgic which emulated the beauties of the finest production of antiquity. It continued long to be read and is entitled to this peculiar praise, that it is founded in truth; that the precepts it contains are exact and just; and that it is therefore at once a book of entertainment and of science. Wir theilen aus demselben die Anweisung mit, wie man einen Obstgarten anlegen soll; ferner die schöne Episo de, welche die Beschreibung eines Erdbebens enthält, und die sich auf eine dunkle Tradition und auf gewisse Ruinen einiger alten Schlösser gründet, die man noch zu Hereford an trifft; und endlich eine Stelle, woraus man unsern Dichter als Maler ländlicher Sitten kennen lernen kann. Verbote es nicht die Beschränktheit des Raums, so würden wir noch einige andere Episoden, vorzüglich diejenigen mittheilen, welche Philips aus der Englischen Geschichte entlehnt, und die er schön und geschickt eingeleitet, und mit pathetischen Zügen angefüllt hat. Unter seinen wenigen andern Gedichten findet man noch eine Englische und Lateinische Ode to Henty St. John Esq. 1706, enthaltend eine Danksagung für Wein und Taback, womit der Lord den Dichter beschenkt hatte; ferner Bachanalian Song, und ein Gedicht überschrieben: Cerealia. Philips starb den 15ten Februar 1708, im 32sten Jahre seines Alters, und wurde zu Hereford begraben; nachmals wurde ihm ein Denkmal in der Westminsterabtei errichtet. Über seinen dichterischen Karakter füllt Johnson folgendes Urtheil: What study could confer, Philips had obtained; but natural deficience cannot be supplied. He seems not born to greatness and elevation. Vielleicht ist dieser Kunstrichter, wie oft, so auch hier etwas zu strenge. Was den sittlichen Werth unsers Dichters betrifft, so ist

darüber nur Eine Stimme; alle räumen es ihm ein, dafs er stets die Pflichten des Menschen und Bürgers gewissenhaft erfüllt habe. Seine Werke findet man im 21sten Bande der Johnsonschen, im 6ten der Andersonschen und 66sten Theile der Bellschen Ausgabe. Johnson und Anderson haben auch ihren Ausgaben Nachrichten von seinem Leben vorgesetzt.

FROM THE

CIDER.

I. *).

Whoe'er expects his labouring trees should bend

With fruitage, and a kindly harvest yield,
Be this his first concern, to find‘a_tract
Impervious to the winds, begirt with hills
That intercept the Hyperborean blasts
Tempestuous, and cold Eurus' nipping force,
Noxious to feeble buds: but to the west
Let him free entrance grant, let Zephyrs bland
Administer their tepid genial airs;

Nought fear he from the west, whose gentle warmth
Discloses well the earth's all-teeming womb,

Invigorating tender seeds; whose breath

Nurtures the orange, and the citron groves,

Hesperian fruits, and wafts their odors sweet

Wide through the air, and distant shores perfumes.
Nor only do the hills exclude the winds:

But when the blackening clouds in sprinkling showers
Distil, from the high summits down the rain
Runs trickling; with the fertile moisture cheer'd,
The orchards smile; joyous the farmers see
Their thriving plants, and bless the heavenly dew.

2. **)

But if it please the sun's intemperate force

To know, attend; whilst I of ancient fame
The annals trace, and image to thy mind,
How our forefathers (luckless men!) ingulft.
By the wide-yawning earth, to Stygian shades
Went quick, in one sad sepulchre inclos'd.

*) Book I. **) Cider, Book I.

In elder days, ere yet the Roman bands Victorious, this our other world subdued, A spacious city stood, with armest walls Sure mounded, and with numerous turrets crown'd, Aerial spires, and citadels, the seat

Of kings, and heroes resolute in war,

Fam'd Ariconium *): uncontroul'd and free,

Till all-subduing Latian arms prevail'd.
Then also, though to foreign yoke submiss.
She undemolish'd stood, and ev'n till now
Perhaps had stood, of ancient British art
A pleasing monument, not less admir'd
Than what from Attic, or Etruscan hands
Arose; had not the heavenly Powers averse
Decreed her final doom; for now the fields
Labour'd with thirst; Aquarius had not shed.
His wonted showers, and Sirius parch'd with heat
Solstitial the green herb: hence 'gan relax
The ground's contexture, hence Tartarian dregs,
Sulphur, and nitrous spume, enkindling fierce,
Bellow'd within their darksome caves, by far
More dismal than the loud disploded roar
Of brazen enginry, that ceaseless storm
The bastion of a well-built city, deem'd
Impregnable: th' infernal winds, till now
Closely imprison'd, by Titanian warmth
Dilating, and with unctuous vapours. fed,
Disdain'd their narrow cells; and, their full strength
Collecting, from beneath the solid mass
Upheav'd, and all her castles rooted deep

Shook from their lowest seat: old Vaga's stream,
Forc'd by the sudden shock, her wonted track.
Forsook, and drew her humid train aslope,-.
Crankling her banks: and now the lowring sky,
And baleful lightning, and the thunder, voice
Of angry Gods, that rattled solemn, dismay'd
The sinking hearts of men. Where should they turn
Distress'd? whence seek for aid? when from below
Hell threatens, and ev'n Fate supreme gives signs.

*) Ariconium, ein Ort in Britannia Romana.

Of wrath and desolation? vain were yows,
And plaints, and suppliant hands to heaven erect!
Yet some to fanes repair'd, and humble rites
Perform'd to Thor, and Woden, fabled gods,
Who with their votaries in one ruin shar'd,
Crush'd, and o'erwhelm'd. Others in frantic mood
Run howling through the streets, their hideous yells
Rend the dark welkin; Horror stalks around,
Wild-staring, and his sad concomitant,
Despair, of abject look; at every gate
The thronging populace with hasty strides
Press furious, and, too eager of escape,
Obstruct the easy way; the rocking town
Supplants their footsteps; to and fro they reel
Astonish'd, as o'er-charg'd with wine; when lo!
The ground adust her riven mouth disparts,
Horrible chasm, profound! with swift descent:
Old Ariconium sinks, and all her tribes,
Heroes, and senators, down to the realms

Of endless night. Meanwhile, the loosen'd winds
Infuriate, molten rocks and flaming globes
Hurl'd high above the clouds; till all their force
Consum'd, her ravenous jaws th' earth satiate clos'd.
Thus this fair city fell, of which the name
Survives alone; nor is there found a mark,
Whereby the curious passenger may learn-
Her ample site, save coins, and mouldering urns,
And huge unwieldy bones, lasting remains
Of that gigantic race; which, as he breaks
The clotted glebe, the plowman haply finds,
Appall'd. Upon that treacherous track of laud,
She whilome stood; now Ceres, in her prime,
Smiles fertile, and with ruddiest freight bedeck`d,
The apple-tree, by our fore-fathers blood
Improv'd, that now recalls the devious Muse,
Urging her destin'd labours to pursue.

3. *)

The
he farmer's toil is done; his cades mature
Now call for vent; his lands exhaust permit

*) Cider, Book II.