This poet was second son to the rev.
Mr. Joseph Trapp, rector of Cherington in Gloucestershire,
at which place he was born, anno 1679. He received
the first rudiments of learning from his father, who
instructed him in the languages, and superintended
his domestic education. When he was ready for
the university he was sent to Oxford, and was many
years scholar and fellow of Wadham College, where
he took the degree of master of arts. In the
year 1708 he was unanimously chosen professor of poetry,
being the first of that kind. This institution
was founded by Dr. Henry Birkhead, formerly fellow
of All-Souls, and the place of lecturer can be held
only for ten years.
Dr. Trapp was, in the early part of
his life, chaplain to lord Bolingbroke, the father
of the famous Bolingbroke, lately deceased. The
highest preferment Dr. Trapp ever had in the church,
though he was a man of extensive learning, was, the
rectory of Harlington, Middlesex, and of the united
parishes of Christ-Church, Newgate Street, and St.
Leonard’s Foster-Lane, with the lectureship
of St. Lawrence Jewry, and St. Martin’s in the
Fields. The Dr’s principles were not of
that cast, by which promotion could be expected.
He was attached to the High-Church interest, and as
his temper was not sufficiently pliant to yield to
the prevalence of party, perhaps for that very reason,
his rising in the church was retarded. A gentleman
of learning and genius, when paying a visit to the
Dr. took occasion to lament, as there had been lately
some considerable alterations made, and men less qualified
than he, raised to the mitre, that distinctions should
be conferred with so little regard to merit, and wondered
that he (the Dr.) had never been promoted to a see.
To this the Dr. replied, ’I am thought to have
some learning, and some honesty, and these are but
indifferent qualifications to enable a man to rise
in the church.’
Dr. Trapp’s action in the pulpit
has been censured by many, as participating too much
of the theatrical manner, and having more the air
of an itinerant enthusiast, than a grave ecclesiastic.
Perhaps it may be true, that his pulpit gesticulations
were too violent, yet they bore strong expressions
of sincerity, and the side on which he erred, was the
most favourable to the audience; as the extreme of
over-acting any part, is not half so intolerable as
a languid indifference, whether what the preacher
is then uttering, is true or false, is worth attention
or no. The Dr. being once in company with a person,
whose profession was that of a player, took occasion
to ask him, ’what was the reason that an actor
seemed to feel his part with so much sincerity, and
utter it with so much emphasis and spirit, while a
preacher, whose profession is of a higher nature,
and whose doctrines are of the last importance, remained
unaffected, even upon the most solemn occasion, while
he stood in the pulpit as the ambassador of God, to
teach righteousness to the people?’ the player
replied, ’I believe no other reason can be given,
sir, but that we are sincere in our parts, and the
preachers are insincere in theirs.’ The
Dr. could not but acknowledge the truth of this observation
in general, and was often heard to complain of the
coldness and unaffected indifference of his brethren
in those very points, in which it is their business
to be sincere and vehement. Would you move your
audience, says an ancient sage, you must yourself be
moved; and it is a proposition which holds universally
true. Dr. Trapp was of opinion, that the highest
doctrines of religion were to be considered as infallibly
true, and that it was of more importance to impress
them strongly on the minds of the audience, to speak
to their hearts, and affect their passions, than to
bewilder them in disputation, and lead them through
labyrinths of controversy, which can yield, perhaps,
but little instruction, can never tend to refine the
passions, or elevate the mind. Being of this
opinion, and from a strong desire of doing good, Dr.
Trapp exerted himself in the pulpit, and strove not
only to convince the judgment, but to warm the heart,
for if passions are the elements of life, they ought
to be devoted to the service of religion, as well as
the other faculties, and powers of the soul.
But preaching was not the only method
by which, this worthy man promoted the interest of
religion; he drew the muses into her service, and that
he might work upon the hopes and fears of his readers,
he has presented them with four poems, on these important
subjects; Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell.
The reason of his making choice of those themes on
which to write, he very fully explains in his preface.
He observes, that however dull, and trite it may be
to declaim against the corruption of the age one lives
in, yet he presumes it will be allowed by every body,
that all manner of wickedness, both in principles and
practice, abounds amongst men. ’I have
lived (says he) in six reigns, but for about these
twenty years last past, the English nation has been,
and is so prodigiously debauched, its very nature
and genius so changed, that I scarce know it to be
the English nation, and am almost a foreigner in my
own country. Not only barefaced, impudent, immorality
of all kinds, but often professed infidelity and atheism.
To slop these overflowings of ungodliness, much has
been done in prose, yet not so as to supersede all
other endeavours: and therefore the author of
these poems was willing to try, whether any good might
be done in verse. This manner of conveyance may,
perhaps, have some advantage, which the other has not;
at least it makes variety, which is something considerable.
The four last things are manifestly subjects of the
utmost importance. If due réflexions
upon Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell, will not reclaim
men from their vices, nothing will. This little
work was intended for the use of all, from the greatest
to the least. But as it would have been intolerably
flat, and insipid to the former, had it been wholly
written in a stile level to the capacities of the
latter; to obviate inconveniences on both sides, an
attempt has been made to entertain the upper class
of readers, and, by notes, to explain such passages
in divinity, philosophy, history, &c. as might be
difficult to the lower. The work (if it may be
so called) being partly argumentative, and partly
descriptive, it would have been ridiculous, had it
been possible to make the first mentioned as poetical
as the other. In long pieces of music there is
the plain recitativo, as well as the higher, and more
musical modulation, and they mutually recommend, and
set off each other. But about these matters the
writer is little sollicitous, and otherwise, than
as they are subservient to the design of doing good.’
A good man would naturally wish, that
such generous attempts, in the cause of virtue, were
always successful. With the lower class of readers,
it is more than probably that these poems may have
inspired religious thoughts, have awaked a solemn
dread of punishment, kindled a sacred hope of happiness,
and fitted the mind for the four last important period;
But with readers of a higher taste, they can have
but little effect. There is no doctrine placed
in a new light, no descriptions are sufficiently emphatical
to work upon a sensible mind, and the perpetual flatness
of the poetry is very disgustful to a critical reader,
especially, as there were so many occasions of rising
to an elevated sublimity.
The Dr. has likewise written a Paraphrase
on the 104th Psalm, which, though much superior in
poetry to his Four Last Things, yet falls greatly
short of that excellent version by Mr. Blacklocke,
quoted in the Life of Dr. Brady.
Our author has likewise published
four volumes of sermons, and a volume of lectures
on poetry, written in Latin.
Before we mention his other poetical
compositions, we shall consider him as the translator
of Virgil, which is the most arduous province he ever
undertook. Dr. Trapp, in his preface, after stating
the controversy, which has been long held, concerning
the genius of Homer and Virgil, to whom the superiority
belongs, has informed us, that this work was very
far advanced before it was undertaken, having been,
for many years, the diversion of his leisure hours
at the university, and grew upon him, by insensible
degrees, so that a great part of the Aeneis was actually
translated, before he had any design of attempting
the whole.
He further informs us, ’that
one of the greatest geniuses, and best judges, and
critics, our age has produced, Mr. Smith of Christ
Church, having seen the first two or three hundred
lines of this translation, advised him by all means
to go through with it. I said, he laughed at
me, replied the Dr. and that I should be the most impudent
of mortals to have such a thought. He told me,
he was very much in earnest; and asked me why the
whole might not be done, in so many years, as well
as such a number of lines in so many days? which had
no influence upon me, nor did I dream of such an undertaking,
’till being honoured by the university of Oxford
with the public office of professor of poetry, which
I shall ever gratefully acknowledge, I thought it
might not be improper for me to review, and finish
this work, which otherwise had certainly been as much
neglected by me, as, perhaps, it will now be by every
body else.’
As our author has made choice of blank
verse, rather than rhime, in order to bear a nearer
resemblance to Virgil, he has endeavoured to defend
blank verse, against the advocates for rhime, and shew
its superiority for any work of length, as it gives
the expression a greater compass, or, at least, does
not clog and fetter the verse, by which the substance
and meaning of a line must often be mutilated, twisted,
and sometimes sacrificed for the sake of the rhime.
’Blank verse (says he) is not
only more majestic and sublime, but more musical and
harmonious. It has more rhime in it, according
to the ancient, and true sense of the word, than rhime
itself, as it is now used: for, in its original
signification, it consists not in the tinkling of
vowels and consonants, but in the metrical disposition
of words and syllables, and the proper cadence of
numbers, which is more agreeable to the ear, without
the jingling of like endings, than with it. And,
indeed, let a man consult his own ears.
Him th’Almighty pow’r
Hurl’d headlong, flaming from the
aetherial sky,
With hideous ruin and combustion, down
To bottomless perdition; there to dwell
In adamantine chains, and penal fire;
Who durst defy th’Omnipotent to
arms.
Nine times the space that measures day
and night
To mortal men, he with his horrid crew
Lay vanquish’d, rowling in the fiery
gulph,
Confounded, tho’ immortal
Who that hears this, can think it
wants rhime to recommend it? or rather does not think
it sounds far better without it? We purposely
produced a citation, beginning and ending in the middle
of a verse, because the privilege of resting on this,
or that foot, sometimes one, and sometimes another,
and so diversifying the pauses and cadences, is the
greatest beauty of blank verse, and perfectly agreeable
to the practice of our masters, the Greeks and Romans.
This can be done but rarely in rhime; for if it were
frequent, the rhime would be in a manner lost by it;
the end of almost every verse must be something of
a pause; and it is but seldom that a sentence begins
in the middle. Though this seems to be the advantage
of blank verse over rhime, yet we cannot entirely condemn
the use of it, even in a heroic poem; nor absolutely
reject that in speculation, which. Mr. Dryden
and Mr. Pope have enobled by their practice.
We acknowledge too, that in some particular views,
what way of writing has the advantage over this.
You may pick out mere lines, which, singly considered,
look mean and low, from a poem in blank verse, than
from one in rhime, supposing them to be in other respects
equal. For instance, the following verses out
of Milton’s Paradise Lost, b. ii.
Of Heav’n were falling, and these
elements
Instinct with fire, and nitre hurried
him
taken singly, look low and mean:
but read them in conjunction with others, and then
see what a different face will be set upon them.
Or less than of this frame
Of Heav’n were falling, and these
elements
In mutiny had from her axle torn
The stedfast earth. As last his sail-broad
vans
He spreads for flight; and in the surging
smoke
Uplifted spurns the ground
Had not by ill chance
The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud
Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried
him
As many miles aloft. That fury stay’d;
Quench’d in a boggy syrtis,
neither sea,
Nor good dry land: night founder’d
on he fares,
Treading the crude consistence.
Our author has endeavoured to justify
his choice of blank verse, by shewing it less subject
to restraints, and capable of greater sublimity than
rhime. But tho’ this observation may hold
true, with respect to elevated and grand subjects,
blank verse is by no means capable of so great universality.
In satire, in elegy, or in pastoral writing, our language
is, it seems, so feebly constituted, as to stand in
need of the aid of rhime; and as a proof of this,
the reader need only look upon the pastorals
of Virgil, as translated by Trapp in blank verse, and
compare them with Dryden’s in rhime. He
will then discern how insipid and fiat the pastorals
of the same poet are in one kind of verification, and
how excellent and beautiful in another. Let us
give one short example to illustrate the truth of
this, from the first pastoral of Virgil.
MELIBAEUS.
Beneath the covert of the spreading beech
Thou, Tityrus, repos’d, art warbling
o’er,
Upon a slender reed, thy sylvan lays:
We leave our country, and sweet native
fields;
We fly our country: careless in the
shade,
Thou teachest, Tityrus, the sounding groves
To eccho beauteous Amaryllis’ name.
TITYRUS.
O Melibaeus, ’twas a god to us
Indulged this freedom: for to me
a god
He shall be ever: from my folds full
oft
A tender lamb his altar shall embrue:
He gave my heifers, as thou seest, to
roam;
And me permitted on my rural cane
To sport at pleasure, and enjoy my muse,
TRAPP.
MELIBAEUS.
Beneath the shade which beechen-boughs
diffuse,
You, Tityrus, entertain your Silvan muse:
Round the wide world in banishment we
roam,
Forc’d from our pleasing fields,
and native home:
While stretch’d at ease you sing
your happy loves:
And Amaryllis fills the shady groves.
TITYRUS.
These blessings, friend, a deity bestow’d:
For never can I deem him less than God.
The tender firstlings of my woolly breed
Shall on his holy altar often bleed.
He gave my kine to graze the flowry plain:
And to my pipe renew’d the rural
strain.
DRYDEN.
Dr. Trapp towards the conclusion of
his Preface to the Aeneid, has treated Dryden with
less reverence, than might have been expected from
a man of his understanding, when speaking of so great
a genius. The cause of Trapp’s disgust
to Dryden, seems to have been this: Dryden had
a strong contempt for the priesthood, which we have
from his own words,
“Priests of all professions are
the same.”
and takes every opportunity to mortify
the usurping superiority of spiritual tyrants.
Trapp, with all his virtues (for I think it appears
he possessed many) had yet much of the priest in him,
and for that very reason, perhaps, has shewn some
resentment to Dryden; but if he has with little candour
of criticism treated Mr. Dryden, he has with great
servility flattered Mr. Pope; and has insinuated, as
if the Palm of Genius were to be yielded to the latter.
He observes in general, that where Mr. Dryden shines
most, we often see the least of Virgil. To omit
many other instances, the description of the Cyclops
forging Thunder for Jupiter, and Armour for Aeneas,
is elegant and noble to the last degree in the Latin;
and it is so to a great degree in the English.
But then is the English a translation of the Latin?
Hither the father of the fire by night,
Thro’ the brown air precipitates
his flight:
On their eternal anvil, here he found
The brethren beating, and the blows go
round.
The lines are good, and truely poetical;
but the two first are set to render
Hoc tunc ignipotens caelo
descendit ab alto.
There is nothing of caelo ab alto
in the version; nor by night, brown air, or
precipitates his sight, in the original.
The two last are put in the room of
Ferrum exercebant vasto Cylopes in
antro,
Brontesque, Steropesque, & nudus
membra Pyraemon.
Vasto in antro, in the first
of these lines, and the last line is entirely left
out in the translation. Nor is there any thing
of eternal anvils, or hers he found, in the
original, and the brethren beating, and the blows
go round, is but a loose version of Ferrum exercebant.
Dr. Trapp has allowed, however, that though Mr. Dryden
is often distant from the original, yet he sometimes
rises to a more excellent height, by throwing out
implied graces, which none but so great a poet was
capable of. Thus in the 12th book, after the
last speech of Saturn,
Tantum effata, caput glauco contexit
amictu,
Multa gemens, & se fluvio Dea
condidit also.
She drew a length of sighs, no more she
said, But with an azure mantle wrapp’d her
head; Then plunged into her stream with deep despair,
And her last sobs came bubbling up in air.
Though the last line is not expressed
in the original, it is yet in some measure implied,
and it is in itself so exceedingly beautiful, that
the whole passage can never be too much admired.
These are excellencies indeed; this is truly Mr. Dryden.
The power of truth, no doubt, extorted this confession
from the Dr. and notwithstanding many objections may
be brought against this performance of Dryden, yet
we believe most of our poetical readers upon perusing
it, will be of the opinion of Pope, ’that, excepting
a few human errors, it is the noblest and most spirited
translation in any language.’ To whom it
may reasonable be asked, has Virgil been most obliged?
to Dr. Trapp who has followed his footsteps in every
line; has shewn you indeed the design, the characters,
contexture, and moral of the poem, that is, has given
you Virgil’s account of the actions of AEneas,
or to Mr. Dryden, who has not only conveyed the general
ideas of his author, but has conveyed them with the
same majesty and fire, has led you through every battle
with trepidation, has soothed you in the tender scenes,
and inchanted you with the flowers of poetry?
Virgil contemplated thro’ the medium of Trapp,
appears an accurate writer, and the Aeneid as well
conducted fable, but discerned in Dryden’s page,
he glows as with fire from heaven, and the Aeneid is
a continued series of whatever is great, elegant,
pathetic, and sublime.
We have already observed, in the Life
of Dryden, that it is easier to discern wherein the
beauties of poetical composition consist, than to
throw out those beauties. Dr. Trapp, in his Praelectiones
Poeticae, has shewn how much he was master of every
species of poetry; that is, how excellently he understood
the structure of a poem; what noble rules he was capable
of laying down, and what excellent materials he could
afford, for building upon such a foundation, a beautiful
fabric. There are few better criticisms in any
language, Dryden’s dedications and prefaces
excepted, than are contained in these lectures.
The mind is enlarged by them, takes in a wide range
of poetical ideas, and is taught to discover how many
amazing requisites are necessary to form a poet.
In his introduction to the first lecture, he takes
occasion to state a comparison between poetry and
painting, and shew how small pretensions the professors
of the latter have, to compare themselves with the
former. ’The painter indeed (says he) has
to do with the passions, but then they are such passions
only, as discover themselves in the countenance; but
the poet is to do more, he is to trace the rise of
those passions, to watch their gradations, to pain
their progress, and mark them in the heart in their
genuine conflicts; and, continues he, the disproportion
between the soul and the body, is not greater than
the disproportion between the painter and the poet.
Dr. Trapp is author of a tragedy called
Abramule, or Love and Empire, acted at the New Theatre
at Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, 1704, dedicated to the
Right Honourable the Lady Harriot Godolphin. Scene
Constantinople. The story is built upon the dethronement
of Mahomet IV.
Our author has likewise written a
piece called The Church of England Defended against
the False Reasoning of the Church of Rome. Several
occasional poems were written by him in English; and
there is one Latin poem of his in the Musae Anglicanae.
He has translated the Paradise Lost into Latin Verse,
with little success, and, as he published it at his
own risk, he was a considerable loser. The capital
blemish of that work, is, the unharmonious versification,
which gives perpetual offence to the ear, neither
is the language universally pure.
He died in the month of November 1747,
and left behind him the character of a pathetic and
instructive preacher, a profound scholar, a discerning
critic, a benevolent gentleman, and a pious Christian.
We shall conclude the life of Dr.
Trapp with the following verses of Mr. Layng, which
are expressive of the Dr’s. character as a critic
and a poet. The author, after applauding Dryden’s
version, proceeds thus in favour of Trapp.
Behind we see a younger bard arise,
No vulgar rival in the grand emprize.
Hail! learned Trapp! upon whose brow we
find
The poet’s bays, and critic’s
ivy join’d.
Blest saint! to all that’s virtuous
ever dear,
Thy recent fate demands a friendly tear.
None was more vers’d in all the
Roman store,
Or the wide circle of the Grecian lore,
Less happy, from the world recluse too
long,
In all the sweeter ornaments of song;
Intent to teach, too careless how to please,
He boasts in strength, whate’er
he wants in ease.