Chapter 146
'As a security for making good the articles, the patentee did, by indenture enrolled in chancery, a.s.sign and make over his patent to trustees, in the indenture named, for the uses above-mentioned.
'In the mean time the first half yearly payments to the annuitants, amounting to 3750 l. became due, and the company not being yet compleated, the patentee himself discharged it, and has never reckon'd that sum to the account between him and the company; which he might have done by virtue of the articles on which he gave admission to the sharers.
'For the better explanation of this scheme it will be necessary to observe, that while the shares were selling, he grew apprehensive that the season would be past, before the fifty pounds per share they were to furnish by the articles could be contributed: He therefore gave up voluntarily, and for the general good, 20,000 l. of his own 25,000 guineas purchase money, as a loan to the company till the expiration of the patent, after which it was again to be made good to him, or his a.s.signs; and this money so lent by the patentee, is all the stock that ever has been hitherto employed by the company.
'But instead of making good the above-mentioned conditional covenant, the board proceeded to unnecessary warmth, and found themselves involved still more and more in animosities, and those irregularities which naturally follow groundless controversy. He would therefore take upon himself the hazard and the power of the whole affair, accountable however to the board, as to the money part; and yet would bind himself to pay for three years to come, a profit of forty s.h.i.+llings per annum upon every share, and then deliver back the business to the general care, above the reach of future disappointments.
'What reasons the gentlemen might have to refuse so inviting an offer is best known to themselves; but they absolutely rejected that part of it, which was to fix the sole power of management in the patentee. Upon which, and many other provocations afterward, becoming more and more dissatisfied, he thought fit to demand repayment of five hundred pounds, which he had lent the company; as he had several other sums before; and not receiving it, but, on the contrary, being denied so much as an acknowledgment that it was due, withdrew himself intirely from the board, and left them to their measures.
'Thus at the same time have I offered my defence, and my opinion: By the first I am sure I shall be acquitted from all imputations; and confirmed in the good thoughts of the concerned on either side, who will know for the future what attention they should give to idle reflections, and the falsehood of rumour; and from the last, I have hopes that a plan may be drawn, which will settle at once all disputed pretensions, and restore that fair prospect, which the open advantage of last year's success (indifferent as it was) has demonstrated to be a view that was no way chimerical.--
'They know how to judge of malicious insinuations to my prejudice, by this _one most scandalous example_, which has been given by the endeavours of some to persuade the out-sharers that I have made an extravagant _profit_ from the _losses_ of the adventurers. Whereas on the contrary, out of _Twenty-five Thousand Guineas_, which was the whole I should have received by the sale of the shares, I have given up _Twenty Thousand Pounds_ to the use of the company, and to the annuities afterward; and three thousand seven hundred and fifty pounds more I paid to the annuitants, at Lady-Day 1715, on the company's account; and have never demanded it again, in consideration of their disappointments the first year.
'So that it plainly appears, that out of twenty-five thousand guineas, I have given away in two articles only, twenty-three thousand seven hundred and fifty pounds for the public advantage. And I can easily prove, that the little remainder has been short of making good the charges I have been at for their service; by which means I am not one farthing a gainer by the company, notwithstanding the clamour and malice of some unthinking adventurers: And for the truth of all this, I appeal to their own _Office-Books_, and defy the most angry among them to deny any article of it. See then what a grateful and generous encouragement may be expected by men, who would dedicate their labours to the profit of others.
November the 30th. 1716. A. HILL.'
This, and much more, too tedious to insert, serves to demonstrate that it was a great misfortune, for a mind so fertile of invention and improvement, to be embarra.s.sed by a narrow power of fortune; too weak alone to execute such undertakings.
About the same year he wrote another Tragedy, int.i.tled [Transcriber's note: 'intiled' in original] the Fatal Vision[2], or the Fall of Siam (which was acted the same year, in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields) to which he gave this Motto out of Horace.
I not for vulgar admiration write; To be well read, not much, is my delight.
And to his death he would declare in favour of that choice.--That year, he likewise published the two first books of an Epic Poem, called Gideon (founded on a Hebrew Story) which like its author, and all other authors, had its enemies; but many more admirers.
But his poetic pieces were not frequent in their appearance. They were the product of some leisure hours, when he relaxed his thoughts from drier study; as he took great delight in diving into every useful science, viz. criticism, history, geography, physic, commerce in general, agriculture, war, and law; but in particular natural philosophy, wherein he has made many and valuable discoveries.
Concerning poetry, he says, in his preface to King Henry the Vth, where he laments the want of taste for Tragedy,
'But in all events I will be easy, who have no better reason to wish well to poetry, than my love for a mistress I shall never be married to: For, whenever I grow ambitious, I shall wish to build higher; and owe my memory to some occasion of more importance than my writings.'
He had acquired so deep an insight in law, that he has from his arguments and demonstrations obliged some of the greatest council (formally) under their hands, to retract their own first-given opinions.
He wrote part of a Tract of War; another upon Agriculture; but they are left unfinished, with several other pieces.
In his younger days he bought a grant of Sir Robert Montgomery (who had purchas'd it of the lords proprietors
His person was (in youth) extremely fair, and handsome; his eyes were a dark blue, both bright and penetrating; brown hair and visage oval; which was enlivened with a smile, the most agreeable in conversation; where his address was affably engageing; to which was joined a dignity, which rendered him at once respected and admired, by those (of either s.e.x) who were acquainted with him--He was tall, genteelly made, and not thin.--His voice was sweet, his conversation elegant; and capable of entertaining upon various subjects.--His disposition was benevolent, beyond the power of the fortune he was blessed with; the calamities of those he knew (and valued as deserving) affected him more than his own: He had fort.i.tude of mind sufficient to support with calmness great misfortune; and from his birth it may be truly said he was obliged to meet it.
Of himself, he says in his epistle dedicatory to one of his poems,
'I am so devoted a lover of a private and unbusy life, that I cannot recollect a time wherein I wish'd an increase to the little influence I cultivate in the dignified world, unless when I have felt the deficience of my own power, to reward some merit that has charm'd me:'--
His temper, though by nature warm (when injuries were done him) was as n.o.bly forgiving; mindful of that great lesson in religion, of returning good for evil; and he fulfilled it often to the prejudice of his own circ.u.mstances. He was a tender husband, friend, and father; one of the best masters to his servants, detesting the too common inhumanity, that treats them almost as if they were not fellow-creatures.
His manner of life was temperate in all respects (which might have promis'd greater length of years) late hours excepted which his indefatigable love of study drew him into; night being not liable to interruptions like the day.
About the year 1718 he wrote a poem called the Northern-Star, upon the actions of the Czar Peter the Great; and several years after he was complimented with a gold medal from the empress Catherine (according to the Czar's desire before his death) and was to have wrote his life, from papers which were to be sent him of the Czar's: But the death of the Czarina, quickly after, prevented it.--In an advertis.e.m.e.nt to the reader, in the fifth edition of that poem, published in 1739, the author says of it.
'Though the design was profess'd panegyric, I may with modesty venture to say it was not a very politic, perhaps, but an honest example of praise without flattery.--In the verse, I am afraid there was much to be blamed, as too low; but, I am sure there was none of that fault in the purpose: The poem having never been hinted, either before or after the publication, to any person (native or foreigner) who could be supposed to have interest in, or concern for, its subject.
'In effect, it had for six years or more been forgot by myself--and my country,--when upon the death of the prince it referred to, I was surprized by the condescension of a compliment from the empress his relict, and immediate successor; and thereby first became sensible that the poem had, by means of some foreign translation, reach'd the eye and regard of that emphatically great monarch, in justice to whom it was written.'
Soon after he finished six books more of Gideon; which made eight, of the twelve he purpos'd writing; but did not live to finish it.
In 1723 he brought his Tragedy called King Henry the Vth, upon the stage in Drury-Lane; which is (as he declares in the preface) a new fabric, yet built on Shakespear's foundation.
In 1724, for the advantage of an unhappy gentleman (an old officer in the army) he wrote a paper in the manner of the Spectators, in conjunction with Mr. William Bond, &c. int.i.tled the Plain Dealer; which were some time after published in two volumes octavo. And many of his former writings were appropriated to such humane uses; both those to which he has prefixed his name, and several others which he wrote and gave away intirely. But, though the many imagined authors are not living, their names, and those performances will be omitted here; yet, in mere justice to the character of Mr. Hill, we mention this particular.
In 1728, he made a journey into the North of Scotland, where he had been about two years before, having contracted with the York-Buildings Company, concerning many woods of great extent in that kingdom, for timber for the uses of the navy; and many and various were the a.s.sertions upon this occasion: Some thought, and thence reported, that there was not a stick in Scotland could be capable of answering that purpose; but he demonstrated the contrary: For, though there was not a great number large enough for masts to s.h.i.+ps of the greatest burthen; yet there were millions, fit for all smaller vessels; and planks and banks, proper for every sort of building.--One s.h.i.+p was built entirely of it; and a report was made, that never any better timber was brought from any part of the world: But he found many difficulties in this undertaking; yet had sagacity to overcome them all (as far as his own management extended) for when the trees were by his order chain'd together into floats, the ignorant Highlanders refus'd to venture themselves on them down the river Spey; till he first went himself, to make them sensible there was no danger.--In which pa.s.sage however, he found a great obstacle in the rocks, by which that river seemed impa.s.sible; but on these he ordered fires to be made, when by the lowness of the river they were most expos'd; and then had quant.i.ties of water thrown upon them: Which method being repeated with the help of proper tools, they were broke in pieces and thrown down, which made the pa.s.sage easy for the floats.
This affair was carried on to a very good account, till those concern'd thought proper to call off the men and horses from the woods of Abernethy, in order to employ them in their lead mines in the same country; from which they hoped to make greater advantage.
The magistrates of Inverness paid him the compliment of making him a present of the freedom of that place (at an elegant entertainment made by them on that occasion) a favour likewise offered him at Aberdeen, &c.
After a stay of several months in the Highlands, during which time he visited the duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Gordon, who distinguished him with great civilities, he went to York, and other places in that country; where his wife then was, with some relations, for the recovery of her health; but his staying longer there (on that account) than he intended, had like to have proved of unhappy consequence; by giving room for some, who imagined (as they wished) that he would not return, to be guilty of a breach of trust that aimed at the destruction of great part of what he then was worth; but they were disappointed.
In that retirement in the North, he wrote a poem int.i.tled, The Progress of Wit, a Caveat for the use of an eminent Writer. It was composed of the genteelest praise, and keenest allegorical satire; and it gave no small uneasiness to Mr. Pope: Who had indeed drawn it upon himself, by being the aggressor in his Dunciad.--This afterwards occasioned a private paper-war between those writers, in which 'tis generally thought that Mr. Hill had greatly the advantage of Mr. Pope. For the particulars, the reader is referred to a s.h.i.+lling pamphlet lately published by Owen, containing Letters between Mr. Pope and Mr. Hill, &c.
The progress of wit begins with the eight following lines, wherein the SNEAKINGLY APPROVES affected Mr. Pope extreamly.
Tuneful Alexis on the Thames' fair side, The Ladies play-thing, and the Muses pride, With merit popular, with wit polite, Easy tho' vain, and elegant tho' light: Desiring, and deserving other's praise, Poorly accepts a fame he ne'er repays: Unborn to cherish, SNEAKINGLY APPROVES, And wants the soul to spread the worth he loves.
During their controversy, Mr. Pope seemed to express his repentance, by denying the offence he had given; thus, in one of his letters, he says,
'That the letters A.H. were apply'd to you in the papers I did not know (for I seldom read them) I heard it only from Mr. Savage[4], as from yourself, and sent my a.s.surances to the contrary: But I don't see how the annotator on the D. could have rectified that mistake publicly, without particularizing your name in a book where I thought it too good to be inserted, &c.[5].'
And in another place he says,
'I should imagine the Dunciad meant you a real compliment, and so it has been thought by many who have ask'd to whom that pa.s.sage made that oblique panegyric. As to the notes, I am weary of telling a great truth, which is, that I am not author of them, &c.'
Which paragraph was answer'd by the following in Mr. Hill's reply.
'As to your oblique panegyric, I am not under so blind an attachment to the G.o.ddess I was devoted to in the Dunciad, but that I know it was a commendation; though a dirtier one than I wished for; who am neither fond of some of the company in which I was listed--the n.o.ble reward, for which I was to become a diver;--the allegorical muddiness in which I was to try my skill;--nor the inst.i.tutor of the games you were so kind to allow me a share in, &c.'--A genteel severe reprimand.
Much about the same time he wrote another poem, called Advice to the Poets; in praise of worthy poetry, and in censure of the misapplication of poetry in general. The following lines here quoted, are the motto of it, taken from the poem.
Shame on your jingling, ye soft sons of rhyme, Tuneful consumers of your reader's time!
Fancy's light dwarfs! whose feather-footed strains, Dance in wild windings, thro' a waste of brains: Your's is the guilt of all, who judging wrong, Mistake tun'd nonsense for the poet's song.
He likewise in this piece, reproves the above named celebrated author, for descending below his genius; and in speaking of the inspiration of the Muse, he says,
I feel her now.--Th'invader fires my breast: And my soul swells, to suit the heav'nly guest.
Hear her, O Pope!--She sounds th'inspir'd decree, Thou great Arch-Angel of wit's heav'n! for thee!
Let vulgar genii, sour'd by sharp disdain, Piqu'd and malignant, words low war maintain, While every meaner art exerts her aim, O'er rival arts, to list her question'd fame; Let half-soul'd poets still on poets fall, And teach the willing world to scorn them all.
But, let no Muse, pre-eminent as thine, Of voice melodious, and of force divine, Stung by wits, wasps, all rights of rank forego, And turn, and snarl, and bite, at every foe.
No--like thy own Ulysses, make no stay Shun monsters--and pursue thy streamy way.
In 1731 he brought his Tragedy of Athelwold upon the stage in Drury-Lane; which, as he says in his preface to it, was written on the same subject as his Elfrid or the Fair Inconstant, which he there calls, 'An unprun'd wilderness of fancy, with here and there a flower among the leaves; but without any fruit of judgment.'--