Mr. JOHN CLEVELAND.
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This eminent Poet, the Wit of our age, was born at Hinckley, a small Market Town in the County of Leicester, where his Father was the Reverend and Learned Minister of the place. Fortes creantur e fortibus, and bred therein under Mr. Richard Vines his School-master, where he attained to a great perfection in Learning, by choicest Elegancies in Greek and Latin, more elegantly English; so that he may be said to have lisped wit, like an English Bard, and early ripe accomplished for the University.
From a loving Father and learned School-Master, he was sent to Christ Colledge in Cambridge, where he proved such an exquisite Orator, and pure Latinist, as those his Deserts preferred him to a Fellowship in St. Johns. There he lived about the space of nine Years, the Delight and Ornament of that Society; what service as well as reputation he did it, let his excellent Orations and Epistles speak: To which the Library oweth much of its Learning, the Chapel much of its pious Decency, and the Colledge much of its Renown.
He was (saith Dr. Fuller) a general Artist, pure Latinist, exquisite Orator, and (which was his Master-Piece) eminent Poet; whose verses in the time of the Civil War begun to be in great request, both for their Wit and Zeal to the King's Cause, for which indeed he appeared the first, if not only Champion in verse against the Presbyterian party. His Epistles were pregnant with Metaphors, carrying in them a difficult plainness, difficult at the hearing, plain at the considering thereof. His lofty Fancy may seem to stride from the top of one Mountain to the top of another, so making to it self a constant Level and Champian of continued Elevations.
These his eminent parts preferr'd him to be Rhetorick Reader, which he performed with great Applause; and indeed, what was it in which he did not excel? This alone may suffice for his Honour, that after the Oration which he addressed to that incomparable Prince of Blessed Memory, Charles the First; His Majesty called for him, gave him his hand to Kiss, and (with great expressions of kindness) commanded a Copy to be sent after him, whither he was hasting that night.
Such who have Clevelandiz'd, that is, endeavoured to imitate his Masculine stile, yet could never go beyond his Poem of the Hermaphrodite; which though inserted into Mr. Randolphs Poems (one of as high a tow'ring Wit as most in that age;) yet is well known to be Mr. Clevelands; it being not only made after Mr. Randolph's death, but hath in it the very vein and strain of Mr. Cleveland's Writing, walking from one height to another, in a constant Level of continued Elevation. And indeed so elaborate are all his other pieces of Poetry, as to praise one were to detract from the rest, and are not to be the less valued by the Reader, because most studyed by the Writer: Take but a taste of the Loftiness of his stile, in those verses of his called Smectymnuus.
Smectymnuus! the Goblin makes me start, I'th' name of Rabbi Abraham, what art? Syriack? or Arabick? or Welsh? what skilt? Ap all the Brick-layers that Babel built. Some Conjurer translate, and let me know it; Till then 'tis fit for a West-Saxon Poet. But do the Brother-hood then play their prizes, Like Mummers in Religion with Disguizes? Out-brave us with a name in rank and file, A name which if't were train'd would spread a mile; The Saints Monopoly, the zealous Cluster, Which like a Porcupine presents a Muster.
Thus he shined with equal Light and Influence, until that great defection of Loyalty over-spread the Land, and Rebellion began to unvizard it self; of which no Man had more sagacious Prognosticks, of which take this one instance; when Oliver Cromwell was in Election to be Burgess for the Town of Cambridge, as he ingaged all his Friends and Interests to oppose it; so when it was passed, he said with much passionate zeal, That single vote ruined both Church and Kingdom; such fatal events did he presage from his bloody Beak: For no sooner did that Harpey appear in the University, but he made good what was predicted of him, and he amongst others, that were outed for their Loyalty, was turned out of his Fellowship at St. Johns; out of which Loyal Colledge was then ejected Dr. Beal the Master, thirteen Batchellors of Divinity, and fourteen Masters of Art, besides Mr. Cleveland.
And now being forced from the Colledge, he betook himself to the Camp, and particularly to Oxford the Head quarter of it, as the most proper and proportionate Sphere for his Wit, Learning, and Loyalty; and added no small Lustre to that famous University, with which it shined before.
Here he managed his Pen as the highest Panegyrist (witness his Rupertismus, his Elegy on the Bishop of Canterbury, &c.) on the one side to draw out all good inclinations to vertue: and the smartist Satyrist, exemplifi'd in the Rebel Scot, the Scots Apostacy, which he presented with such a Satyrical Fury, that the whole Nation fares the worse for it, lying under a most grievous Poetical Censure. Such also were his Poem of The mixt Assembly, his Character of a London Diurnal, and a Committee-Man; Blows that shakes triumphing Rebellion, reaching the Souls of those not to be reached by Law or Power, striking each Traytor to a Paleness, beyond that of any Loyal Corps, that bled by them; such Characters being as indelible as Guilt stabs beyond Death.
From Oxford, his next stage was the Garrison of Newark, where he was Judge Advocate until the Surrender thereof; and by an excellent temperature of both, was a just and prudent Judge for the King, and a faithful Advocate for the Country. Here he drew up that excellent Answer and Rejoynder to a Parliament Officer, who had sent him a Letter by occasion of one Hill, that had deserted their side, and brought with him to Newark the sum of 133 l. and 8d. I shall only give you part of Mr. Clevelands Answer to his first Letter, by which you may give an Estimate of the rest.
Sixthly, Beloved it is so, that our Brother and fellow-Labourer in the Gospel is Start aside; then this may serve for an use of instruction, not to trust in Man, or in the Son of Man. Did not Demas leave Paul, did not Onesimus run from his Master Philemon? Also this should teach us to employ our Talents, and not to lay them up in a Napkin; had it been done among the Cavaliers, it had been just, then the Israelite had spoiled the Ægyptian: but for Simeon to plunder Levi, that—that—&c.
This famous Garrison was maintained with much courage and resolution against the Besiegers, and not surrendred but by the King's special Command, when first he had surrendred himself into the hands of the Scots; in which action of that Royal Martyr, we may conclude our Cleveland Vates, both Poet and Prophet: For besides his passionate resentment of it in that excellent Poem, The Kings disguise; upon some private intelligence, three days before the King reached them, he foresaw the pieces of Silver paying upon the banks of Tweed, and that they were the price of his Sovereigns Blood, and predicted the Tragical events.
Thenceforth he followed the fate of distressed Loyalty, subject to the Malice and Vengeance of every Fanatick Spirit, which seldom terminates but in a Goal, which befel this learned Person, being long imprisoned at Yarmouth: where living in a lingering Condition, and having small hopes of coming out, he composed an Address to that Idol at White-Hall, Oliver Cromwell, written with such Tow'ring Language, and so much gallant Reason, as looked bigger than his Highness, shrinking before the Majesty of his Pen, as Felix trembled before Paul. So obtaining his Liberty, not by a servile Submission, but rather a constrained Violence, neither injuring his Conscience, nor betraying his Cause.
And so now with Daniel being delivered out of the Lyons Den, he was courted to several places, (which contended as emulously for his abode, as the seven Grecian Cities for Homers Birth;) at last he setled in Grays-Inn, which when he had enobled with some short time of his residence, an intermitting Fever seized him, whereof he dyed, on Thursday Morning, April the 29. 1658. from whence his Body was brought to Hunsden-House, and on Saturday being May-day, was buried at Colledgehill-Church; His dear Friend Dr. John Pearson (afterwards Lord Bishop of Chester) preached his Funeral Sermon, who rendred this Reason; why he cautiously declined all commending of the Party deceased, Because such praising of him would not be adequate to any expectation in that Auditory; seeing some, who knew him not, would think it far above him, while those, who knew him must needs know it far below him.
Many there were who sought to eternize their own Names by honouring his; some by Elegies, and other Devices, amongst the rest one made this Anagram upon his name.
J O H N C L E A V E L A N D.
H E L I C O N I A N D E W.
The difficult Trifle (saith one) is rather well endeavoured, than exactly performed. More happy were those Wits, who descanted on him and his works in Verse, although so eminent a Poet was never interred with fewer Elegies than he; for which we may assign two Reasons, One that at that time the best Fancies of the Royal Party were in restraint, so that we may in part think their Muses confin'd, as well as their Bodies. Secondly, not to do it to the heighth, were in a manner to dispraise him. However I shall adventure to give you an instance in two, whereof the first of Mr. Edward Martin of London.
Ye Muses do not me deny; I ever was your Votary. And tell me, seeing you do daign T'inspire and feed the hungry Brain; With what choice Cates? With what choice Fare? To Cleaveland's fancy still repair? Fond Man, say they, why do'st thou question thus? Ask rather with what Nectar he feeds us.
The other by Mr. A.B. printed before Mr. Cleveland's Works.
Cleaveland again his sacred head doth raise, Even in the dust crown'd with immortal Bayes, Again with verses arm'd that once did fright Lycambe's Daughters from the hated Light, Sets his bold foot on Reformations neck, And triumphs o'er the vanquisht Monster Smec; That Hydra whose proud heads did so encrease, That it deserv'd no less an Hercules. This, this is he who in Poetick Rage, With Scorpions lash'd the Madness of the age; Who durst the fashions of the times despise, And be a Wit when all Mankind grew wise. When formal Beards at Twenty one were seen, And men grew Old almost as soon as Men: Who in those daies when reason, wit, and sence Were by the Zealots grave Impertinence Ycliped Folly, and in Ve-ri-ty Did savour rankly of Carnality. When each notch'd Prentice might a Poet prove. For warbling through the Nose a Hymn of Love, When sage George Withers and grave William Prin, Himself might for a Poets share put in: Yet then could write with so much art and skill, That Rome might envy his Satyrick Quill; And crabbed Persins his hard lines give ore, And in disdain beat his brown Desk no more. How I admire the Cleaveland! when I weigh Thy close-wrought Sense, and every line survey! They are not like those things which some compose, Who in a maze of Words the Sense do lose. Who spin one thought into so long a thread, And beat their Wit we thin to make it spread; Till 'tis too fine for our weak eyes to find, And dwindles into Nothing in the end. No; they'r above the Genius of this Age, Each word of thine swells pregnant with a Page. Then why do some Mens nicer ears complain, Of the uneven Harshness of thy strain? Preferring to the vigour of thy Muse Some smooth weak Rhymer, that so gently flowes, That Ladies may his easy strains admire, And melt like Wax before the softning fire. Let such to Women write, you write to Men; We study thee, when we but play with them.