SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE. TEMPLE, SIR WILLIAM, an English statesman and diplomat; born at London, 1628; died at Moor Park, Surrey, January 27, 1699. He studied at Cambridge; travelled for six years on the Continent; then went to Ireland, where his father, Sir John Temple, was Master of the Rolls. In 1665 he was sent to Germany on a diplomatic mission, and upon his return was made a baronet, and appointed English Resident at Brussels. In 1668 he negotiated the "Triple Alliance" between England, Holland, and Sweden, against Louis XIV. of France; and was made English Ambassador to Holland. He subsequently performed important diplomatic services, and in 1679 was urged by Charles II. to accept the position of Secretary of State. But he preferred to live in retirement at his seat of Moor Park. Temple's writings are of a miscellaneous character. The most important of them are "Observations upon the United Provinces of the Netherlands," and "Essays on the Origin and Nature of Government." Among his "On Ancient and Modern Learning; essays are ""On Gardening; "On Heroic Virtue;" "On Popular Discontents;" "On Health and Long Life." ON GARDENING. WHOEVER begins a garden ought, in the first place and above all, to consider the soil, upon which the taste not only of his fruits, but his legumes, and even herbs and salads, will wholly depend; and the default of soil is without remedy: for, although all borders of fruit may be made with what earth you please (if you will be at the charge), yet it must be renewed in two or three years, or it runs into the nature of the ground where it is brought. Old trees spread their roots farther than anybody's care extends, or the forms of the garden will allow; and, after all, where the soil about you is ill, the air is too in a degree, and has influence upon the taste of fruit. What Horace says of the productions of kitchen gardens, under the name of caulis, is true of all the best sorts of fruits, and may determine the choice of soil for all gardens: As to the size of a garden, which will, perhaps, in time, grow extravagant among us, I think from four or five to seven or eight acres is as much as any gentleman need design, and will furnish as much of all that is expected from it, as any nobleman will have occasion to use in his family. The best figure of a garden is either a square or an oblong, and either upon a flat or a descent; they have all their beauties, but the best I esteem an oblong upon a descent. The beauty, the air, the view, make amends for the expense, which is very great in finishing and supporting the terrace walks, in levelling the parterres, and in the stone stairs that are necessary from one to the other. The perfectest figure of a garden I ever saw, either at home or abroad, was that of Moor Park in Hertfordshire, when I knew it about thirty years ago. It was made by the Countess of Bedford, esteemed among the greatest wits of her time, and celebrated by Doctor Donne, and with very great care, excellent contrivance, and much cost; but greater sums may be thrown away without effect or honor, if there want sense in proportion to money, or if nature be not followed, which I take to be the great rule in this, and perhaps in everything else, as far as the conduct not only of our lives, but our governments. And whether the greatest of mortal men should attempt the forcing of nature, may best be judged by observing how seldom God Almighty does it himself, by so few true and undisputed miracles as we see or hear of in the world. . . . I may perhaps be allowed to know something of this trade, since I have so long allowed myself to be good for nothing else, which few men will do, or enjoy their gardens, without often looking abroad to see how other matters play, what motions in the state, and what invitations they may hope for into other scenes. For my own part, as the country life, and this part of it more particularly, were the inclination of my youth itself, so they are the pleasure of my age; and I can truly say that, among many great employments that have fallen to my share, I have never asked or sought for any one of them, but often endeavored to escape from them, into the ease and freedom of a private scene, where a man may go his own way and his own pace in the common paths or circles of life. "But, above all, the learned read, and ask By what means you may gently pass your age, What lessens care, what makes thee thine own friend, Or else a private path of stealing life.” These are questions that a man ought at least to ask himself, whether he asks others or no, and to choose his course of life rather by his own humor and temper than by common accidents or advice of friends; at least, if the Spanish proverb be true, that a fool knows more in his own house than a wise man in another's. The measure of choosing well is, whether a man likes what he has chosen; which, I thank God, has befallen me; and though, among the follies of my life, building and planting have not been the least, and have cost me more than I have the confidence to own, yet they have been fully recompensed by the sweetness and satisfaction of this retreat, where, since my resolution taken of never entering again into any public employments, I have passed five years without ever going once to town, though I am almost in sight of it, and have a house there always ready to receive me. Nor has this been any sort of affectation, as some have thought it, but a mere want of desire or humor to make so small a remove; for when I am in this corner, I can truly say, with Horace: "Me when the cold Digentian stream revives, THE RIGHT OF PRIVATE JUDGMENT IN RELIGION. WHOSOEVER designs the change of religion in a country or government by any other means than that of a general conversion of the people, or the greatest part of them, designs all the mischief to a nation that use to usher in or attend the two greatest distempers of a state- civil war or tyranny; which are violence, oppression, cruelty, rapine, intemperance, injus tice; and, in short, the miserable effusion of human blood, and the confusion of all laws, orders, and virtues among men. Such consequences as these, I doubt, are something more than the disputed opinions of any man, or any particular assembly of men, can be worth, since the great and general end of all religion next to man's happiness hereafter is their happiness here. Now the way to our future happiness has been perpetually disputed throughout the world, and must be left at last to the impressions made upon every man's belief and conscience, either by natural or supernatural means; which impression men may disguise or dissemble, but no man can resist. For belief is no more in a man's power than his stature or his feature; and he that tells me I must change my opinion for his, because 't is the truer and the better-without other arguments that have to me the force of conviction - may as well tell me I must change my gray eyes for others like his that are black, because these are lovelier or more in esteem. A man that tells me my opinions are absurd or ridiculous, impertinent or unreasonable, because they differ from his, seems to intend a quarrel instead of a dispute; and calls me fool or madman, with a little more circumstance, though perhaps I pass for one as well in my senses as he, as pertinent in talk, and as prudent in life. Yet these are the common civilities, in religious arguments, of sufficient and conceited men, who talk much of right reason and mean always their own, and make their private imagination the measure of general truth. But such language determines all between us, and the dispute comes to an end in these words at last, which it might as well have ended in at first-that he is in the right, and I am in the wrong. The other end of religion—which is our happiness here — has been generally agreed upon by all mankind, as appears in the records of all their laws, as well as their religions, which come to be established by the concurrence of men's customs and opinions; though in the latter case that concurrence may have been produced by divine impressions or inspirations. For all agree in teaching and commanding, in planting and improving, not only those moral virtues which conduce to the felicity and tranquillity of every man's private life, but also those manners and dispositions that tend to the peace, order, and safety of all civil societies and governments among men. ALFRED TENNYSON. ALFRED TENNYSON (became Baron Tennyson of Aldworth in 1883), Poet Laureate of England; born at Somersby, Lincolnshire, August 6, 1809; died at Aldworth House, near Haslemere, Surrey, October 6, 1892. At seven Alfred was sent to the grammar school, at eight he wrote his first verses, modelled on Thomson's "Seasons," and he used most of his leisure time writing verse, producing, between the age of twelve and thirteen, an epic, on the Walter Scott model, and at fourteen a blank-verse drama. In March, 1827, "Poems by Two Brothers" appeared, confessedly written by Charles and Alfred. On February 28, 1828, Alfred and Charles matriculated at Trinity College, Cambridge. On June 6, 1829, it was announced that Alfred had won the prize medal for his poem in blank verse, "Timbuctoo." Next year appeared his first serious volume, "Poems, Chiefly Lyrical." It was favorably, but not enthusiastically, received. At the end of 1832 appeared the volume known as "The Poems of 1833." September 15, 1833, Hallam, Alfred's nearest friend, and betrothed to Emily, the poet's sister, died in Vienna. The severity of the blow to the poet was such that for a time he meditated suicide. A ten-years' silence was broken in 1842 by the publication of two volumes. With these came the assurance of his fame, for the literary world echoed with praise of them. In 1845, Sir Robert Peel was induced by Richard Monckton Milnes to read "Ulysses," and the result was a Government pension. From this time on, the poet's path was one of steadily growing fame, wealth, and honors. In 1847 appeared "The Princess." In June, 1850, appeared "In Memoriam," an elegy on Hallam. In November he was appointed Poet Laureate, through Prince Albert's admiration for "In Memoriam." He was offered a baronetcy by Gladstone in 1873, and again by Disraeli in 1874, which he declined. In 1883, however, he accepted the peerage offered him by the Queen, on the recommendation of Gladstone, and became Baron Tennyson d'Eyncourt. His death was painless, after a brief illness. He was buried in the Poets' Corner, Westminster Abbey, near Chaucer. His other principal poems were published in the following order: "Maud" (1855); "The Idyls of the King" |
